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Madness | Chpt.30

Chapter Title: “The Storm”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character (Eva)

Word Count: 7,519

Warnings: Fluff and angst (what else is new?)

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

Summary: Eva reconciles with Thor, and Aurora seeks comfort in the storm.

A/N: I’m sorry once more for the delay. I’ve been working out the coming chapters as the story comes to a close, and I’m pulling things that don’t seem as important and adding things that need to be added. It’s taken quite a while to edit this chapter, but I hope you enjoy it. Thank you all a thousand times over for reading this; it truly means the world to me.

Tagged: @teddyboobear @alledeglyfunny @xletmetaste-yoursmilex @itsknife2meetu @mynameisyara @j-j-ehlby-writes @jillilama-blog (anyone who wants to be tagged can message me and ask. It’s not a problem at all)

The movie came to a close quicker than I anticipated. Aurora had been so invested in watching that one movie that not even Tony could deny her, no matter how badly I saw he wanted to. The movie was nothing spectacular, and if I was given the opportunity to watch it again, I wouldn’t; however, Aurora seemed to be fond of it, so the movie held a special place in my heart. As I sat between Steve and Tony, I stole glances at her in the darkened room, her face illuminated by the light from the television, and I watched as she mouthed each line of dialogue as if it were her own. She was entranced by the movie, loving every moment of it. Tony offered once to swap places with me so that he wasn’t between the two of us, but I couldn’t take that risk. I couldn’t be so close to her when all I had worked for was teetering on the edge. If I gave in and embraced the life I so desperately desired, it could crumble in my grasp. I had to be patient.

Once it was over, I retired to my room with only a few words to everyone. I didn’t want to make it obvious that I was preparing to leave the following morning before they awoke. There was no sense in causing a scene, so I said my goodbyes as informally as possible. I hugged each of them and wished them goodnight, not knowing whether that would be the final time we spoke or saw each other. Either way, I wanted them to remember me as I was, not how I left them. Steve held me for longer than the others, knowing what this was. I knew that he fought himself not to follow me back to my room to stay the night by my side, but in the end, he released me and retired to his room with a grief-stricken heart that left mine a little heavier. The only one who had the nerve to follow me to my room was the very man I had no desire to speak to, the man who stabbed me with the knife I gave him.

Upon entering my room, I left the door open for Thor to enter behind me. The click of the latch caused me to wince, unsure of whether or not I would be having another argument with a man I knew as one of my very best friends. I took my normal spot standing before the glass wall with my arms crossed over my chest. The lamp on the bedside table offered the only light in the room, and I watched my reflection in the window as the rain pelted the glass, “you’re still upset with me, and I can understand why,” I noted, interrupting the deafening silence that surrounded us, “you’re upset with me, but she can’t sleep during a thunderstorm. I’m not asking for myself-I’ve slept through many a storm-but...for her sake, can you please stop this?” I asked, continuing to gaze out at the blackened sky.

“I’m not doing this,” he replied, his voice barely cutting through the quiet air surrounding us.

I scoffed, “says the God of Thunder!”

“Yes! I’m saying that I haven’t been doing this and that I’ve tried to stop it, but it keeps coming back,” he insisted, taking his place beside me. Instead of staring out the window at the rain, though, I felt his gaze on my cheek, but I couldn’t bring myself to look into his eyes. After what happened during our previous interaction, I felt small in his presence. I did the best I could with what I was given when it came to my daughter, but I couldn’t help but feel guilty for all the ways I had hurt Thor with my decision to send Aurora away. He was there for me when Loki wasn’t. He was there for me when Loki decided to leave me in the garden, forcing me to raise our daughter alone. Thor was by my side through it all, even when Loki failed to be. While I understood why Loki did what he did and how he was all but forced down the path he went down, Thor stayed by my side. I had no right to call him my friend after what I had done to him. He shared a connection to Aurora; she was his family, and I tore her away from him. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, but he continued to study me, “I’m saying that I have no control over this because there is another-one more powerful than I-whose link to this world is so deep, so profound, that the bat of her lashes sends hurricanes across the ocean, the drop of a tear causes a thunderstorm, and her laughter blows away the clouds to reveal the sun. I’m telling you that this isn’t me.”

My jaw clenched involuntarily as I processed his words. He couldn’t be serious. I shook my head, not willing to believe in such claims, “you can’t possibly be insinuating that this has anything to do with me.”

“This has everything to do with you,” he argued as the heat of his gaze felt like it would burn a hole right through me, “when we thought you were dead, the universe wept for you. The skies opened up with a rain that-if you hadn’t come back-wouldn’t have stopped until it washed away every trace of humanity. When you awoke, the clouds in the sky cleared, and the sun began shining like it was meant to shine for you and only you. When you saw her for the first time in so long, the sun shone brighter than before, but it was quickly swallowed up by the rain once more. Lately, the sky has been covered in clouds, but when you spent the day with her and Natasha, the sun came back out. Tonight, you are struggling with a grief that I cannot understand, and this is the evidence of it,” he argued his point, gesturing out the window at the rain.

I watched the raindrops hit the window and cascade down the glass, doing what Tony often did as a child. He would choose two raindrops that were close to one another, and he would bet on which one would reach the bottom first. We would often play the game together as Howard and Maria argued in the other room, but I made sure that Tony’s laughter and the sound of my voice drowned out the muffled hollering. It wasn’t a game of calculations or numbers, but it was a game of luck. We just had to hope we chose the right one. I shook my head again, trying to drown out my own fear with the sound of the rain on the window, “this isn’t me. This can’t be me,” I insisted, my voice quivering as I thought that I could hold any power at all. The universe would’ve been better off if I had stayed dead because the power I couldn’t shake would’ve been a threat no longer. I couldn’t control it, and I didn’t have anyone to teach me how to handle it. There was only one who promised to teach me, one who was burdened with the same power, but...I couldn’t trust him. My heart told me to run to him, told me that he could be saved, but I didn’t know if I was willing to sacrifice my everything for his anything. I didn’t know if I could trust that Ezra wouldn’t try to turn me against myself.

Thor’s voice ripped me from my own fearful thoughts, “you know who you are as well as I know who you are,” he remarked, his words sending a shiver down my spine. I didn’t want to talk about my parentage or the fact that I was an abomination. I didn’t want to add fuel to the fire in my heart that told me I wasn’t good enough for any of the good things in my life, for the man I loved, for the children I gave life to, for the friends I would give my life for, or for the blade of grass tied around my finger. There were so many voices that told me I was worthy of the love I received, but there was that one-the voice that hid in the darkest recesses of my mind-that told me I was worth nothing because of where I came from, and that voice was the loudest one. Instead of berating me, though, Thor continued with pride emanating from his chest and a smile on his lips, “there should be no question in your mind that you’re capable of this-that you’re far more powerful than I could ever even hope to be.”

“Don’t say that!” I hissed under my breath. The anger shot through me like a fire in my veins.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “why not?”

“Because what if I’m the one who needs to be stopped?!” I snapped, turning to face him as the rage manifested itself once more in a physical form. My eyes shone red in his, causing my heart to drop. I wished that it would stop. I wished that I could convince myself that I had no special gifts at all because what if my special gifts were terrifying ones? I brought my hands up to show him the proof of what I was becoming. Not even the persistent tears in my eyes could drown away the vivid, blood red hue in my eyes or the burning in my hands as my veins appeared to have the same blood red fire coursing through them. Just like he had before, Thor winced away from me when he saw this part of me. I had been able to control my anger all my life, but with every sudden change that had been happening, I lost control. I blinked away the tears or frustration, “what if the darkness swallows me whole, and I can’t do anything about it? What if your father was right all those years ago when he wanted me to be locked away in the dungeons if I were to stay? What if he was right to be afraid of me? What if I’m the villain in this story?”

“Then you’ll rewrite it!” his voice boomed, cutting off my questioning. He had more faith in me than I did; however, even Odin had more faith in me than I did, which spoke volumes of my relationship with myself.

“What if I can’t?” I asked, my voice softening as fear took the place of the anger. I was afraid of myself-of what my presence could do to the people I loved. Life was easier when I believed I was just a simple sorceress, but when I was brought back to the land of the living, I felt more powerful than ever before, which left me terrified because I lost all sense of control I thought I had. Closing the space between us, my eyes locked with Thor’s, “I feel like I’m not the one holding the quill.”

“Then you take it!” he huffed, his hands trembling as my fear left him feeling just as uncertain of the future. He looked to me for a sense of stability, and I couldn’t be that foundation for him in that moment. His eyes scanned the room, almost as if he was searching for an answer hidden in a darkened corner, and when he turned his eyes back to me, I saw his renewed faith in me, “you take it and you do what I believe you can do-what I’ve always believed you could do: you write the ending the way you believe it was meant to be. You have the power to change the tide of this war with Cul, and you act like this new power has somehow changed you, but this power isn’t new. This power has always been a part of you, laying dormant in the recesses of your heart until the time was right. Now is the time to learn how to control it, and everyone will be there to help you, to guide you, and to support you. My father was wrong about you. He was wrong about everything I know to be true about both you and my brother. Loki’s not an abomination, and neither are you. You are our last hope, Eva. You’re Asgard’s last hope at defeating Cul and his armies, and I understand that you’ve given more than enough of your life and blood to serving the throne; however, I’m not asking you to serve the throne...I’m asking you to serve your people once more...as the princess of Asgard,” he insisted, his voice filled with determination and unwavering support.

I shook my head, his words leaving a bad taste in my mouth. Attempting to laugh it off, I nearly made myself sick. The sudden fluttering of butterflies wings in my abdomen was a harsh reminder of all the reasons why I should ignore my responsibilities to Asgard and to the ones I loved. For a fleeting moment, I entertained the idea of staying on Midgard with my children and ignoring the needs of my people, allowing them to be slaughtered. The mere thought caused a panic to race through me, so I shook it off, “don’t call me that,” I requested, the title not sounding quite right.

He smiled, seeing how uncomfortable it made me. He knew that it was a light request, so he would take the opportunity to tease me in the future about it, but the time for teasing and childish banter was tabled for the time being. The smile fell from his face as his eyes became filled with memories that I was not present for, memories I wished to decipher, but he asked once-many years ago-that his mind be off limits to me, “I never understood why Heimdall seemed to have a deeper loyalty to you than to my father, how he could bring himself to bend-even break-the rules for you. When I read your letter and discovered that you had come to Midgard, I demanded he send me here. I didn’t know what I wanted to do, really, but I just wanted to be close to you. Heimdall always referred to you as a princess, but on that night, I told him that he must listen to my command because I was the prince of Asgard. He told me that you were the princess, and his loyalty began to make more and more sense. It wasn’t until I discovered your parentage that I realized why he called you that, why he served you, why his loyalty has never been to the throne as long as you were alive. His sword has always been at your feet, and it’s not only because you’re the princess of Asgard: it’s because you are the light that leads the weary travellers home. You’re the foundation that empires are built upon, and he believes in you as a leader, as a warrior, and as a ruler. Your father may have been usurped, but you still hold a claim to the throne-one that many people would be happy to see you sit upon.”

“I want nothing more to do with that throne-I never have,” I confessed. The burden of holding an entire kingdom in my hands was a daunting idea in and of itself, and those who could remember Cul’s reign were sure to harbor animosity toward me once they discovered my true parentage. I was sure it wouldn’t be kept secret for too long should a war reach us. I wasn’t fit to rule, and I had to make Thor understand such things, “I wanted to marry Loki for love, not the throne or the royal titles that would come with it. I wanted to fight in Asgard’s wars for light and life, not for the throne. I serve my people because I cherish every life I encounter, not because I desire the throne. After this war is finished, I wish to never even see that throne room again for the rest of my life,” I snickered, remembering all the times I had been reprimanded for my wild behaviors in that throne room and all the times I spoke out against the Allfather. My youth was slowly lost in that throne room, and I couldn’t bear to lose anything else, “besides, I’m not meant to be chained to a throne, and you know that. I’m like the wind: wild and ever-changing. I could never rule the way past kings have ruled.”

He shrugged, “well, maybe it’s time for a change. Perhaps Asgard needs a queen.”

“It already has a queen: your mother,” I reminded him, not wishing to speak of the matter anymore. It was an idea that was good for nothing but the imagination, for it would never come to fruition anyway. I smiled, brushing past him as I made my way over to the bed, “you should go get some sleep. Midgard has us both lost in our own dreams, and we could both use some rest.”

“I have one last thing to say. It’s the reason why I followed you into your quarters tonight,” he interjected. He shifted his weight, wringing his hands together before our eyes connected. With a deep breath, he finally spoke, “I’m sorry,” he blurted out, his voice like a low rumble. Before I could offer up my words of forgiveness and my own apologies, he continued, “you are the woman I’ve always been in love with, but even more than that...you’re my best friend. The way I spoke to you-the words I said to you-are abhorrent, and they caused irreparable damage to the very fabric of our friendship. You have no reason to forgive me, for I should never be forgiven. I used my words as ammunition against you because your decision to save your child’s life was hurtful to me. I never considered the alternatives or the fear that lead you to your decision to bring her here. Instead, all I saw was how that decision impacted me and how it hurt her, but I never realized that it’s very possible that she wouldn’t be alive to hurt if you hadn’t made the most difficult decision of your life. Instead of supporting you the way friends are supposed to, I was angry with you and treated you with contempt. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me the most, and I judged your decision as an outsider to the situation. My heart has been heavy with guilt since our last discussion, so I came in here tonight to apologize and hope that you could find it in your heart to forgive me for what I have done.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. You spoke to me as your friend who was hurt, and I find myself grateful that you care so deeply about my well-being and the health and happiness of my daughter to fight for her. I saw you advocate for my child, and while it wasn’t necessary, it gave me a sense of peace. Should I die, she will have you there to always advocate for her and keep her best interests in mind. She will be surrounded by people who will love her and protect her,” I explained, offering up a smile, “I wish you would have asked me why I did what I did because my decision was born out of my unconditional love for her. Not a day goes by that she’s not the very first thought I have in the morning and the very last thought I have before falling asleep. I love her more than I’ve ever loved another living thing. I look at her, and I see every happy memory I’ve ever had. She is sweet-natured like your brother, but she is wild like me. When this war with Cul is over and my presence will not present her with any harm, I will piece my family back together, and this pain will be a memory of my past. Once this is over, I will finally be happy.”

*Aurora’s POV*

Every bolt of lightning struck more than just the surface of the world, it also struck fear in my heart. I didn’t understand why a sound so natural would be one that scared me so much, but it left me trembling on the floor, staring out at the darkened sky. The rain fell hard enough that it drowned out the dwindling conversations around the apartment-like living quarters of the tower. Natasha and Clint were still throwing their usual banter back and forth, catching up as much as they could before Clint left the following day. He had opened up to me about the alternate life he lived aside from S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers. He spoke of his wife, Laura, and his children, Cooper and Lila. He discussed with Natasha how he and his wife were eager to have another baby, and Natasha would jokingly name the non-existent child after herself. Clint told her about his interest in building an addition onto his house, and she would recommend different colors if he was looking for a change. I was left entranced in most of their conversations, but it wasn’t for the banter or the friendly smiles back and forth.

I lost myself in the idea of having my own little family with a mother and father and siblings. I lost myself in the idea of going outside with my father and having him chase me around a field until he finally caught me. I lost myself in the idea of helping my mother redecorate our home on a whim because she needs a change of scenery. I lost myself in the idea of bickering with my siblings, which would lead to us eventually making up with each other and causing mischief that would drive any normal parent to the brink of insanity; however, our parents would love us all the more for it. I lost myself in the idea of my father overhearing my mother talking about adding an addition to our home, and he would surprise her with the necessary supplies before they both worked on renovations together, laughing and falling even more in love with every passing moment. I lost myself in the idea of a family that I could call my own. The team was my family, but I still dreamed of the one I must’ve had at one point when I was too young to remember.

There was another crack of thunder that startled me out of my silent dreaming. I flinched at the sound, and I knew that it was time to make the usual trek into one of five rooms. I could sleep with Natasha, but I knew that when I woke up, she would be holding me so tightly that I wouldn’t be able to move until she awoke. I could sleep with Bruce, but he was the lightest sleeper I knew; therefore, my nightmares that left me struggling to breathe would only frighten him just as much. I could sleep with Clint, knowing that he could offer me the most father-like care, but he had to leave in the morning; I didn’t want to be a bother. I could sleep with Steve, but he didn’t sleep when I was with him. Instead, he resorted to staying awake to watch over me whilst he read or lost himself deep in thought. Tony was the only other option, since Thor and Eva were both made “off limits” to me, and Tony may have needed me just as much as I needed him.

Before I could push myself off the floor, I caught the reflection of my own eyes in the glass. Eva’s eyes were the same color, but when I saw hers for the first time, I felt whole. Strangers we encountered while we were out with Natasha often did a double-take at Eva and I before noting that we looked like we were somehow related. I tried to laugh it off the way Natasha did, but I couldn’t help but wish that there was truth to it. While Eva was distant with me, there was something about her that my very essence was connected to. I loved her without knowing a single thing about her. I knew that she had a love of literature and that she was an Asgardian, but my knowledge was far too limited to claim love for her; however, love was present each time I even thought of her. No matter how many times she tried to push me away, I was pulled back to her by my own heart.

Another crack of thunder had me scrambling up off the floor. I slipped out of my bedroom, closing the door behind me and making sure to turn the handle to keep from the signature clicking sound of the latch that would give me away. I made my way to Tony’s room, my feet padding along the cold floor. My pace quickened with each crack of thunder until I reached Tony’s bedroom. I hoped that he would be in there and not in his workshop again. He had spent night after night in the workshop, refusing to sleep until he found a cure for the Extremis serum. Bruce helped him most of the time, but Tony worked non-stop. It was his way of coping. He told me that at one point, coping came in the form of drinking, but he claimed that he had made a promise to my mother that he would stop. He struggled to keep that promise when they brought Eva to the tower, though. When I visited him in his workshop, he would sit with a glass of his favorite whiskey right next to him, eyeing it every now and then. He claimed that the bottle hadn’t been opened since shortly before he made the promise to my mother.

I knocked on his bedroom door and breathed a sigh of relief when he called out for me to come in. I opened the door just wide enough to slip into the room and see him scribbling notes into one of the various journals he kept. It was no secret that he was still working on figuring out the Extremis and how it affected Eva. He wanted to have a solution before she left, which he feared would happen any day. Each time he looked at her, his expression was mixed between fear, endearment, and immeasurable guilt. He hadn’t spoken much to her since she woke up, but he sat with her day in and day out while she was still unconscious. I found him countless times passed out, leaning against the wall outside of her bedroom. Each and every time-after helping him back to his room-I found my way back to her room. Too afraid to open the door-I sat in the spot that was still warm from when Tony occupied it, and I fell asleep with dreams of a faceless woman with an all-too-familiar voice. Tony slept outside her room because he blamed himself for what happened. If anything could possibly be Tony’s fault, he felt guilty for it. I didn’t know why I slept outside her room.

He cast his eyes over to me without a word before turning his attention back to the words he was scribbling into his journal. I was silent as I entered the room and proceeded to crawl into the bed next to him, making myself as small as possible under the blankets. I curled my body as close to his as I could get, feeling safe around the people who swore their lives to me for some ungodly reason. As soon as I found a suitable and comfortable position, he closed the journal and pulled off his glasses, setting them both on the bedside table. He let out a long yawn and adjusted himself so that he could lay on his back, “can’t sleep?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow as he cast a fleeting glance over at me before turning it back to the ceiling. Another crack of thunder caused us both to flinch. I shook my head as my response, clutching the blankets around me and pulling them tighter. Sensing my fear, he did what he always did. He wrapped an arm around me and pulled my body flush against his, surrounding me in his warmth. I felt safe with Tony, but I also felt so much fear. I knew that should my life be on the line, he would sacrifice his to save mine, and I wasn’t worth such a tremendous sacrifice. I feared the depth of his love for me because it could only hurt him. Once he relaxed his muscles, he let out a long breath, “yeah, me neither,” he replied, rubbing circles onto my back.

I rested my head against his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat, allowing it to lull my heart back into a steady rhythm. Tony and I-much like the rest of the team and I-were connected in a way that was unexplainable. The connection was the same one I felt with Eva, even though few words had been exchanged between the two of us. The connection made it impossible to imagine a life without them, and when I thought of the prospect of not seeing one of them for even a single day, it tore me apart. I hated being away from Tony when he sent me to live with Steve, and I hated being away from Steve when I lived with Tony. It was a connection that breathed life into my heart, but it also caused such extreme misery. I loved without limits, almost as if my very soul was the same as the soul within each of the people I loved so dearly. I felt that connection especially with Eva. The idea of her departure caused even more panic in me, so I turned my focus back to Tony, “tell me a story,” I pleaded, thinking that maybe this time would be different. Rest never came to me during thunderstorms; however, it didn’t stop me from trying. This would’ve been a first if it happened.

“You really know how to put me on the spot, don’t you?” Tony chuckled, resting his right hand on his abdomen, his thumb gently brushing my forearm that was draped across his waist in an attempt to pull myself as close to him as possible. I didn’t trust many people, but I trusted Tony. With his left hand, he stroked my temple, brushing my hair back like he did whenever I was feeling sad. I listened as his breath hitched and his heart skipped a beat, but when I turned my gaze up to his face, he didn’t show the signs of fear that I anticipated. Instead, he wore such an endearing smile, as if he were reliving memories that had been living on the surface more so recently than ever before, “once upon a time, there was a princess, the most beautiful, delicate woman to grace the face of this world. She was gentle like people expected her to be as a princess, but she was fierce with a tongue sharper than any sword she ever wielded.”

“She watched over the world, and she hung the moon and the stars in the night sky to guide home every weary traveller, and she captured each of their hearts even though she promised herself to another. Her beloved, the prince of the land, was a gentle soul, and it was fitting that they end up together. They were two sides of the same coin, but they also couldn’t have been more different in some aspects. Fate pulled them apart time and time again, but the princess never lost hope even when her prince did. The prince was...different,” he searched for the right word and landed on that one, which he clearly didn’t think fit the description of the character, “the prince was kind and shy, but many people cast him aside. He wasn’t a warrior like other princes had been before him. Instead, he preferred books and nature. He was soft-spoken and gentlemanly. He helped the princess hang the moon and stars in the night sky because he cared about the weary travellers just as much as she did, but the people didn’t see his kindness and gentleness as strengths like they did in her. This drove him to build up walls around his heart, and he thought that he had to prove himself in order to earn her love. Little did he know, he would have her love no matter what.”

“The prince became a man the princess didn’t know, and she took to the cliffs, ready to throw herself off. The water crashed against the rocks and drowned out her own tears. Right before she leapt from the cliff, she heard the desperate pleas of a man out at sea. You see, there was a lowly craftsman-a man who didn’t belong out on the sea-who set out to fish in order to satiate his own hunger, and he was lost in an unforgiving storm. His boat wouldn’t last through the night, and he was afraid of dying. The sky was so thick with clouds that looked to be made of soot, making it impossible for him to even see with the help of the moon and stars that the princess had hung for people like him,” he choked out, that part of the story hitting a soft spot for him. I knew that the story was far more than just a work of fiction. It was a story about my parents, and he was the craftsman. I figured it out the moment he mentioned that the princess hung the stars in the night sky. Those were the only words I could remember my mother saying to me. I could remember nothing else.

Tony continued, his voice thick with emotion, “the craftsman was ready to give up just like she was, even though he was terrified of what would happen if he did. He was just so tired of fighting the storm, so he was ready to succumb to it. Then, he heard a distant voice. It was a song. The princess-even in her moment of grief and sorrow-pushed aside her emotions to guide him home. He followed the sound of her angelic voice, rowing himself toward the shore. When he reached the shore, he fell into the sand at her feet. She had descended from the cliff to stand on the shore to greet him when he finally returned. Tears blurred his vision when he looked up to take in the face of his savior, and his heart nearly stopped. He hadn’t expected the princess. He never expected that a princess would ever concern herself with a peasant like himself, but she did. She was far more beautiful than people described her, more stunning than he could even fathom himself. The moment he saw her, he fell madly in love with her. She was his saving grace, but what he didn’t know was that she had found another purpose, and it was to continue to save all those she could even while her heart was aching.”

“The princess and the craftsman became closer and closer as time passed, and they helped each other. Each day, he fell deeper and deeper in love with her, but he knew in his heart that it wasn’t meant to be between the two of them. He knew that her heart and soul were still promised to the prince, and he was happy if they could find happiness together. Her love saved her prince, and they found happiness together once more. The prince was saved from himself, and no matter how badly the craftsman wished she would end up in his arms, he knew that the princess was always meant to be with the prince. Instead, the craftsman promised his craft to her, and from that moment on, she lived within his heart. Everything he crafted was tinged with the color of her eyes, even if it was as small as an emerald on the hilt of a sword. He incorporated a piece of her into everything he did, and as he got to know the prince-a man he grew to consider a friend-he found a way to include the sky blue hue of his eyes into his work as well. In his work, the prince and princess would live forever, and he found a way to keep them close even when they seemed to be worlds away,” he finished, forcing a smile onto his face as he spoke. There was a sorrow in him when he told the story, a sort of homesickness that came whenever I asked about my parents.

“Is there something wrong with me?” I asked, biting my bottom lip to keep it from quivering as the emotion washed over me. It felt as if I was in a state of constant confusion. What had I done that was so wrong that they left me? If they were these beautiful, amazing, miraculous people who strived to help everyone, what was so wrong with me? Sensing Tony’s confusion, I continued, trying to explain my question a bit more, “you tell me all about how they loved the world, how they were the type of people who would take a bullet for a complete stranger because they had so much love in their hearts, so why couldn’t they love me like that?”

Tony pulled away from me to prop himself up onto his elbow and stare down at me. His eyes had never been so serious in all the time I’d known him, “I never want you to think that you weren’t loved by them-that you aren’t still loved. Your mother made the most difficult decision of her life when she decided to give you to me. She told me every little thing about you, every little idiosyncrasy that united to make you the girl she loved so fiercely. I never want to hear you even insinuate that you weren’t loved because your mother loved you more than she ever loved another living thing. She loved you more than she loved herself. She loved you until it hurt,” he explained before resting back onto the bed next to me, allowing me to pull our bodies close together once more. It was the most difficult concept to wrap my head around-how two people could love me so deeply but send me away. I didn’t understand it. Before my thoughts could run their course, Tony’s voice sounded again as he stared up at the ceiling, “your mother and father were meant to have children, but fate hurled hardship after hardship their way. Fate was cruel to your parents, and in order to protect you, a difficult choice had to be made. Never think...not even for a moment, that the decision to leave you with me was made lightly or that it wasn’t made with your best interests in mind. You are with me because your mother made a choice that hurt her so deeply, but that choice was born of nothing but pure, unadulterated love. Fate had other plans for your mother and father, plans that they were undeserving of. Fate was cruel to you, too. I remember how your mother cried when she brought you to me, how she wept as she spoke her final words to you. I watched her heart shatter that day as I held her in my arms, and I wished with all I had that I could just fix it. That’s what I do: I fix things. I just couldn’t fix what she needed me to.”

His words caused a jolt of sadness to surge through me like a bolt of lightning. I wished to hear her recollection of it. I wanted to hear the gentle quiver in her voice as she told me of the most difficult day of her life. I wanted to hear it because I wanted to comfort her. My dreams were simple, and that was one of them. I cleared my throat, “she’s the princess in the story, and you’re the craftsman. You loved her,” I remarked, feeling an immediate pang of guilt for putting him on the spot, but it disappeared when his breath hitched and his heart skipped a beat. I smiled at the thought of them together. Tony would’ve made such a good father, and he was the closest thing I ever had to one. I felt a sense of wholeness when I imagined a little family with him and my mother, but something still didn’t feel right about it. My voice cut through the silence once more, “I only remember one thing about my mother. I don’t remember her face, her name, or even the sound of her voice. All I can remember are the words she said to me. She told me that she hung the moon and stars in the sky so that they would watch over me throughout the night, and if I were to ever feel lonely, all I needed to do was look up into the sky, and I would find her here amongst them. I can...I can remember that. She was the princess in your story, and you...loved her.”

He nodded his head, and I lifted my head just enough to see a stray tear fall from the corner of his eye, slide past his temple and make a home somewhere in his dark hair, “if I could choose one woman to marry, if I could be totally selfish, I would choose her. A fair few of us who met your mother have fallen in love with her. She was this ethereal being who you couldn’t help but become entranced by. She could lure you in with her physical beauty-a gentleness and a wildness unlike any I’d ever seen before. Then, once you heard her laugh, once you saw that smile, once you felt the warmth of her heart, it was over,” he wore a fond smile, “I loved them both in different ways. It’s hard to admit this, but your father deserved her far more than I ever did. He deserved nothing but happiness and joy, and she brought that to him. They were meant to find each other in every reality and every lifetime, and all I ever wanted was to see them happy.”

I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep, but with each crack of thunder and flicker of lightning outside, I was startled back awake over and over again. Just when I was on the brink of falling asleep, I was pulled back into full consciousness. The desperate attempts to drown out the sound of the storm were in vain. Tony’s steady heartbeat could only offer me so much solace, and his quiet breathing wasn’t nearly loud enough for me to use as a way to ignore the sky that opened up with such agony. Before I knew what I was doing, I was padding down the hallways, pacing back and forth between the living area and the library. I could stay up all night and watch movies, or I could lose myself in a few books in the library. I couldn’t make up my mind, and in my pacing, my feet decided on a new direction, and I was involuntarily pulled toward Eva’s bedroom. She didn’t want to see me, and I didn’t expect her to want to comfort me. I couldn’t help but wonder, though...what if?

The princess was my mother, and Tony said that her eyes were green. My eyes were green, and Eva’s eyes were green. People mistook us for being related when we were out shopping with Nat. Tony seemed to have strong feelings for Eva, which were only heightened after all the tragedies that unfolded recently. He slept by her side and worked tirelessly on a cure for the Extremis serum. Tony was also vocal about his love for my mother. Perhaps it was my exhaustion or my desperation for a mother-figure to bond with, but I secretly wished that the woman on the other side of the door was my mother. Eva built up walls, but I saw little bits and pieces of the woman within those walls, and she was the person I was looking for. I didn’t know what my past looked like, but I knew that I wanted her to be a part of my future.

With another crack of thunder, I wrapped my hand around the doorknob, knowing somewhere deep in my soul that Eva was the only one who could chase away the storm.

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the-marvel-imagines-blog · 5 years

Text

Madness | Chpt. 29

Chapter Title: “Only Forever”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character (Eva)

Word Count: 7,554

Warnings: Fluff, angst (what else is new?), soft Steve

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

Summary: After Ezra’s departure, Eva is confronted by Steve with a bouquet of flowers and a letter.

A/N: Thank you all so much for being patient. My mood has lifted in recent days, and I decided that it was finally time to post an update to my favorite piece that I’ve ever worked on. It may not seem like much, but this chapter meant a lot to me. Thank you all a thousand times over for reading this; it truly means the world to me.

After Ezra’s departure, I had time to think about what was to come. My time on Midgard was coming to an end, and I wished to leave as soon as possible. At one point, I had a nearly nonexistent desire to return to Asgard, for my role as a leader was being questioned by the Allfather. With time, though, I knew the danger that was quickly closing in on my home. No matter how badly I wished to live in peace, I couldn’t bring myself to do so while there was war raging on throughout the universe. In the silence, I made a silent promise to myself that this would be my final night on Midgard before I left the following morning. I would say no formal farewells to my companions, for if I watched the sorrow build in their eyes, my fear was that I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to leave. They knew that my return to Asgard was inevitable, but my date of departure wasn’t set in stone, or so they thought.

I thought of the life I could create with my children and Loki once the threat from Cul was eliminated. A seed of hope was planted as I imagined all that would follow this war should Loki and I live through it together. We would marry and have as many children as we desired. He would meet his daughter, and he would be there for the birth of our next child and every single one that followed. I yearned to return partly to hold him close and divulge the information that Tony had figured out in only a handful of interactions. Gods, I should’ve known better than to think that I could hide anything from that man. Even Ezra was aware of my “condition,” which made me even more fearful for the life of my unborn child. If he knew, it wasn’t too hard to believe that Cul would also know.

Just as my thoughts began taking a darker turn, my hands trembling just as violently as my knees-like leaves in the wind-there was a knock on my bedroom door. I wrung my hands, calming my nerves as I turned to face the door, “come in,” I called out, my voice quivering as my fear remained on the surface.

The door opened just wide enough for Steve to slip his massive frame into the room. The sight of him took my breath away. He looked stunning. He was dressed in an eerily similar outfit as the one he had worn on the night we met. Deep brown trousers were held up by a pair of matching suspenders with vertical gold stripes that matched the color of his hair. His white button up dress shirt was well pressed, and his brown and gold striped tie. In his hands, he held a record and a bouquet of daisies, flowers I watched him draw during the war from time to time. He would sit alone, and I would lower the veil over his eyes as I sat beside him, not wanting to bring him any ounce of confusion or fear. He drew the flowers over and over again, and I was left in awe as I watched him. I furrowed my eyebrows, but before I could ask what he was doing, he answered for me, “Tony tells me that you plan on leaving soon, so...I gotta take my chance,” he said, giving me that familiar coy smile. He was still the same man I met at the expo all those years ago. He was still the shy, innocent, marvelous young man that earned a place in my heart the moment our eyes met.

I gazed down at myself, feeling underdressed in one of the many day dresses Natasha pressured me into buying the day Tony gave her his credit card to take both Aurora and I shopping. Aurora grew out of her clothes quickly, but I could sense that her growth was coming to a gradual halt. A few too many of the clerks at the various stores we went to had commented that Aurora and I looked so much alike, causing me to wince at their words. Natasha played it off and laughed about how it was just “phenomenal genes” to keep them from assuming any further into our relationship. With Tony’s credit card, Natasha pressured me into picking out more and more clothes until I had an entire wardrobe, even though I insisted on leaving as soon as possible. She claimed that even if I left before wearing them all, I’d have them for when I returned, not willing to think any differently. Natasha had lost enough, and it would be unfair for me to ask her to willingly lose me as well. As I stared down at the dress that reached my knees, a soft green that Nat claimed made my eyes look “even more stunning than usual,” I clasped my hands in front of my waist. There was a bashfulness that I was filled with as Steve’s eyes drank me in, “I’m definitely underdressed for the occasion,” I claimed, our eyes meeting and dancing with that familiar friendliness.

He grinned, “you’re even more breathtaking than yesterday, and you’ll be even more beautiful tomorrow than you are today. You could wear a paper bag, and I’d still be the one who’s underdressed,” he joked, his eyes still sparkling the same way they did when we first met. He knew war just as I had, but it didn’t break his spirit. The man he used to be, the fighter with a youthful spirit, was still alive inside him. That same boyishness got the best of him when his eyes reconnected with mine after he seemingly studied every piece of me. He cleared his throat with a deep blush rising to his cheeks, “I got these for you,” he stammered, closing the space between us in a few graceful strides as he held out the bouquet of daisies. His eyes flickered away from mine, and I was reminded of the shy boy I met all those years ago.

I reached out for the flowers, our hands brushing against each other when I gripped the stems. I brought them up to my nose, breathing in the sweet smell of them. Admiring them, I spoke, not thinking of the impact my words would have, “you used to draw these in your notebooks at night,” I murmured, my fingers trailing delicately over the smooth white petals. Steve’s breath hitched, and there was a stunned silence that fell between us. I would have to explain that to him. I glanced up at him, “I used to sit right beside you in your isolation, and I’d watch you draw these all day. You’d draw them in vases, growing wildly, in the hands of a woman-”

He cut me off, “they were yours,” he interjected, his eyes searching mine for any ounce of disgust or shock. I knew that there was a love between the two of us that was more than just platonic, that he felt things for me that I couldn’t bring myself to feel for anyone else but Loki, and the man who stood before me was never upset with me over that. He found none of the disgust he feared, but I watched my eyes fill with surprise as his response sunk in. Steve continued, “daisies symbolize purity and innocence...love. Not a day went by that I didn’t think of you. I’d go to sleep and dream about you-the most incredible woman I’d ever met in all my life. You were more than just your outer beauty, and I knew that the moment we shook hands the night of the expo. No other woman even gave me the time of day, brushing me off like I was a pest, but you looked me in the eyes and treated me like I mattered. You were at the forefront of my mind every single day after that, and you embodied exactly what the daisies symbolized: purity, innocence, and love. I always dreamed of coming back from the war, finding you, and giving you a bouquet of daisies. You were the purest thought I had during the war, so I drew the daisies as I daydreamed of you...the girl I should’ve danced with when I had the chance. With that said, I have a chance now, so I was wondering if you would care to dance with me?” he asked with hope-filled eyes.

I smiled up at him as he waited for my answer with bated breath. He looked at me with the same anticipation as Loki did when he asked me to marry him. Both men had entertained the scenario that I would deny them of their proposition, but they both should’ve known me better, “I may step on your toes,” I murmured, recalling the words he once said to me.

Those blue eyes lit up with pure joy, “well, as long as I can step on your toes a few times, we’ll make a great pair,” he echoed the same words I used all those years ago. Stepping away from me, he walked over to the record player in the room; Tony had them littered throughout the tower, vastly preferring the sound of records over anything else. He had an old soul like his father. I placed the bouquet of daisies on the nightstand, “I heard this song the night of the expo after we parted ways, and it’s been my favorite song ever since. This record was the first thing I bought after they...defrosted me. It was my touchstone to the past where I thought I left you, and I mourned you every night after they brought me back to the world. I thought I’d never see you again, so I listened to this song and cried, thinking of how stupid I was to pass up the opportunity to dance with you.”

The music began, and he turned to look at me. We closed the space between us, but once we stood before each other, the confidence he had only seconds prior seemed to disappear as the bashful young man returned to him. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, gazing down at me behind those long lashes. I stepped closer to him, pressing my body against his and snapping him out of the trance he seemed to fall into. His right arm snaked around my waist, and he held my right hand with his left one, pressing it to his chest, covering it with his own. My left hand rested delicately against his arm, “dance with me like it’s the last time,” I pleaded, gazing up into his eyes as I lost myself in the sheer love I felt for him. My future was uncertain, and it could very well be our first, last, and only dance.

He smirked, “well, if this is the last time I’ll ever hold you, you should know that I’m never letting you go,” he murmured as we began to sway back and forth to the gentle melody. The lyrics carried a great weight for Steve, and with every new verse, his arm tightened around me. He mourned me more than once before, and he was terrified of ever having to go through that again. He rested his head against mine, and I listened intently to the gentle humming that was born deep in his chest. Midway through the song, he sung the lyrics that clearly held a deeper meaning to him than I realized, “do you think I’ll remember how you look when you smile? Only forever-that’s putting it mild,” he sang, his voice becoming thick with tears. I did the only thing that felt right in the moment, and I pulled myself even closer to him, our bodies flush against the other. I rested my head on his shoulder, breathing in the sweet smell of him. He buried his face in my hair, and we danced through the remainder of the song in complete silence as I drank in every lyric because it was his way of professing his love to me.

His hold on me tightened as our song came to an end and the next one began. The sudden lift in the tempo didn’t stop the slow swaying of our bodies. He didn’t pick up the pace, and neither did I. It was as if he wasn’t even listening to the music anymore, but instead, he listened to me the way I listened to him. I listened to the sound of him shifting his weight from side to side, his steady breathing, the slow rhythm of his heartbeat, and the sound that occurred when my fingers danced along his shirt. We lost ourselves in the moment and each other. I was brought back to a simpler time when I was in his arms, a time when Loki and I loved without boundaries and restrictions. Steve brought me back to simplicity, and I found myself able to enjoy the little moments of silence once more. I loved the noise-the constant sound of life-but there was a beauty in the silence that I had forgotten about until that moment in his strong arms. After two songs of the two of us swaying back and forth, casting wordless glances at one another, I finally spoke, “you’re missing the jacket,” I noted, remembering the one article of clothing he was wearing the night we met that he wasn’t wearing when he entered my room to ask me to dance.

He snickered, “it was a tragedy that I wore that thing in the first place,” he joked, burying his face into my hair before he kissed the top of my head.

I pulled back just enough to catch the blue eyes that warmed my very soul. He was deeper than others witnessed. They saw the tip of the iceberg, not the fullness of it that rested beneath the surface of the water. I saw through the blue eyes that were flecked with green and bits of gold, and I saw right into that remarkable soul. So many people saw the hero but failed to see the man; they failed to see that the hero was the man, that the two were interchangeable. I smiled up at him, which caused that adoring grin to tug at his own lips, “you were a very handsome young man back in the 40’s, Captain, and you’re still just as handsome. Not a single thing changed in my mind. You got taller, and you grew into the clothes, but you’re still the same hopeless romantic, honorable, selfless, spectacular man. Don’t sell yourself short. The jacket looked good on you,” I replied, stroking the back of his neck with my left hand.

“The jacket was what sold you on me, huh?” he laughed, the room brightening around us even as the night drew nearer. It was the last night, and it could potentially be the final hours I would spend with some of the people I loved so dearly. The laughter fell away, and he cleared his throat. I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering what happened to turn the moment into such a solemn one, but I couldn’t speak when I caught the tears in his eyes. My heart began to ache as he spoke, “I dressed this way because...I can’t have that night back. That was the last night of love and laughter...the last carefree night I had in my life, and I took it for granted. I took you for granted. I wanted to keep just one piece of it alive because the only other thing that stayed the same was you. We aren’t hearing the music live, and you don’t have on that stunning blue dress, and Howard isn’t jumping off of a stage to get your attention, and Loki’s not standing beside you with his pinky brushing yours every few minutes, and...Bucky-” his voice faltered as one single tear betrayed him. The second it fell, he reached up to wipe it away, but I was faster. My fingers brushed the tear from his cheek, and I cradled his face in my hand, waiting for another one to fall. His bottom lip quivered, but he pressed through to finish what he started...he always finished what he started, “Bucky isn’t looking at you like you’re the only woman in the world-like you’re the only person he’s ever even seen-even though he brought two pretty girls with him that night. Howard isn’t here, Loki isn’t here, and Bucky isn’t here, so I had to do everything in my power to trick myself into thinking that we were hurled back in time to when things were simpler, better, happier,” he explained, swallowing back his emotions.

I stopped swaying with him, and he followed suit, his body coming to a halt in my arms. My hands cupped his cheeks, our eyes melting into each others like the ocean meeting the land. Pushing myself up, I pressed a kiss to his forehead, lingering there for a long moment as the bittersweetness he felt poured into me, our two souls bleeding into one just like it had so long ago. We felt the sorrow and the joy together. He leaned into me, his right arm pulling me flush against his strong body. Pulling my lips from his forehead, I pressed my forehead to his, drinking in the way it felt to have someone hold me the way he did. Loki held me like I was his love from the beginning of time; the way he held me was familiar and filled with beautiful sentiments. Steve held me like every moment was our very first moment, like he was falling in love with me for the first time every second he held me, but I couldn’t love him the way he deserved. His nose brushed against mine, causing a sad smile to flicker across my lips.

I leaned back once more to gaze up into his eyes, “you’re right, Steve. Bucky and Howard aren’t here. Loki isn’t here. You and I, though...we are here,” I reminded him, knowing that he was still living in the past-something I did far too often. The world around us became heavier and heavier with each passing day, and there were moments in our history that were filled with the warmth of love we wished to drown ourselves in, warmth that didn’t exist in our present. Still, there was goodness in each moment, little specks of light in even the darkest night, moments of peace in the chaos, moments of joy in the misery. I continued to stroke his cheek as he leaned into my touch, “I don’t like dating myself, but...I’ve been alive for a long time-over a thousand years-and losing people, especially people you love so dearly, never gets easier. You dressed like this to bring back that night when there were three other people with us who aren’t here anymore. One of which, you may see again someday, but Howard and Bucky…” my voice broke, and I knew that I couldn’t continue down that path without breaking down into a mess of tears, “the point is that we can’t find our only happiness in the past, Steve...that’s no way to live. Neither of those men would’ve wished that on us, especially not on you,” I murmured, clearing my throat to hold back the tears that threatened to fall the moment my voice broke. In a desperate attempt to lighten the mood, one of my most endearing memories of Howard surfaced, and I let out a laugh that seemed to come from nowhere, “you know, Howard asked me to marry him that night. After Bucky left, Howard and I danced, and he asked me to leave Loki to marry him instead. He told me that he’d buy me the biggest, most beautiful ring in all of New York, and we’d have the most lavish wedding. Gods, I can remember it like it was yesterday.”

“I would’ve gone dancing just to see that!” he exclaimed before the two of us lost ourselves in a fit of giggles, remembering the man we both harbored such a great love for. Steve wasn’t around to see Howard’s downfall, but I was. Still, I had a deep love for the man. As our laughter died down, another song began, and Steve began swaying once more, pulling me back into the movements with him. We fell into a perfect rhythm with one another, continuing to snicker at Howard’s lack of subtlety when it came to his feelings for me. He was bold, but he was normally much more charismatic and smooth. With me, he was upfront about his intentions, and he was a man of spontaneity at one point in his life. Once the laughter died away completely, Steve’s voice pulled at the one loose end I didn’t want to talk about, the string that was attached to the one person I could no longer imagine a single day without. I kept hearing her, and I felt her presence day in and day out. It was making it impossible to even consider leaving without her, but I had to, “she wants to get close to you, Eva. I know you don’t want to believe it, but she does,” he spoke, his voice wavering as he brought up the subject that I so diligently fled from.

I shook my head, “I won’t let her,” I murmured, my heart aching at the very idea of letting her close enough to tear down the wall I built up between us. I worked so hard to keep her at a distance, knowing that the safest place for her was as far away from me as she could get. Then, I was swept right back into her love like I never left in the first place, which made me realize that I was still just a scared little girl, afraid to lose the people I loved. She was the most important person in my story, even if I had to make her a background character to keep her alive until the end.

“Why not?” he asked, his voice suddenly filled with conviction, “I mean, I know that this is killing you, and it’s killing her, too. She’s intrigued by you. She knows there’s something different between the two of you,” he explained, pulling away just enough to gaze down into my watery eyes. Speaking about her was almost as hard as looking at her. Knowing that I introduced a light into the universe and then abandoned her-the wish and dream I hoped for every day and night for as long as I could remember-made me sick to my stomach. I was no good for her. I abandoned her like I had been abandoned. I knew the pain of not knowing and the confusion that came with trying to figure out the solution to a puzzle that was missing too many pieces. I put my own child through that, and that made me a monster. Steve continued through the lump in his throat that formed the moment he saw the tears in my eyes, “the day we got here, she caught a glimpse of your face, and that was enough for her. That girl slept on the floor outside your room every single night because every time she tried to come in, she was given a reason not to. I caught her in here with you one day, holding your hand and just watching you as you slept, like she was sitting vigil at the bedside of her closest friend...her mother. You didn’t get to see it, but I did. I saw love in its truest form when I watched her with you. All she wants is to know where she belongs, and she’s being pulled to you by fate, just like I am. If you opened up to her and let her in, if you gave her back the knowledge of who you are-who she is-there’s nothing to be gained from this but happiness and love. You’re worthy of those things, Eva. You may not believe it, but you are.”

“You wouldn’t care for me if you knew where I came from,” I murmured, my voice low with shame as I thought of the darkness my life was born from. It was only a matter of time before I found my way back to that darkness, and I couldn’t pull the people I loved there with me, “you’d probably hate me,” I forced a laugh that was cut short when my eyes filled to the brim with tears. One lone tear broke away from the whole and streamed down my cheek, but it wasn’t quick enough because before it could make it to my chin, Steve’s delicate fingers swept it away before resuming its place covering my hand that rested on his chest.

“I don’t think I would,” he argued, shaking his head as he dismissed the very idea that he could ever bring himself to hate me. I didn’t know why it seemed so unfathomable to him, though. I hated myself since before I could even remember, hated the very essence of who I was because how could I love myself when the people who were meant to love me couldn’t even bring themselves to do that? I hated myself even after I learned that my mother’s decision to give me up wasn’t born of disdain but for a fear of what would come of my future if I was close to her. I hated myself because even after finding out where I came from, what I was meant to be, I realized that I was the embodiment of every childhood fear I ever had. Unlike Hjalmar, I wasn’t afraid of the dark as a child, and that always confused my father; however, it made sense to me when I discovered who I was. I wasn’t afraid of the darkness because I was the darkness-I was born in it, lived it, felt it. I was afraid of death, and I became the embodiment of that, the offspring of death and destruction. That was my beginning, and I used that knowledge to fuel my self-loathe. Steve couldn’t see it, though. He loved with no logic or reason...and I saw it written all over his face that day. I heard it in his words, “we don’t have the liberty of choosing our beginnings.”

Smiling at the purity of his words, I shook my head, dismissing them the same way he dismissed my insistence that he would hate me. He would understand someday, and if he didn’t understand, I would make him understand, “Odin doesn’t see it that way. I’m a threat to the whole of Asgard. He knows who my parents are, and he never had any great love for Loki. Odin treated me like I was a castaway in Asgard all my life until I made a name for myself and pledged to fight for the throne. The first time I received any acknowledgement as an Asgardian was when I promised him my blood and life. I wanted to prove myself, but Odin continued to harbor resentment toward me, a resentment I never understood until recently,” I noted, my voice falling low once more as the image of her flashed before my eyes. It seemed like only yesterday, she was this tiny infant in my arms, a little life that I brought into the world with eyes that matched mine and hair that was identical to her father’s. She was perfect. She was everything I always dreamed I could be and more. She was my dream-the dawn of my new life. My bottom lip quivered, “Aurora is the product of two of the beings Odin fears the most. She was born of my blood, which is the same blood that runs through the veins of one of the most powerful and dangerous Asgardian Gods in history and Death herself. All this time I thought that I could somehow make our realm safer for her by rehabilitating Loki, but...I am the reason why she’ll never be safe.”

Steve didn’t even bat an eyelash at the revelation that I was the daughter of Death, that the very entity that embodied darkness and mortality was the very being that brought me into existence. There wasn’t even a fleeting look of fear in his eyes. He was the first person I told, the first of my loved ones who I trusted with my parentage, and he didn’t even pay it any mind. It was the same reaction he would’ve had if I told him that my favorite color was blue. All he did was smile down at me, determination clear in those crystal eyes, “then come back,” he insisted, his voice filled with hope that I would agree to the idea that he was about to lay out for me, “I have some free space in the apartment, and you can stay as long as you want. You told me that you managed to free Loki once already, so do it again and bring him here. He may have a difficult time getting people to warm up to him after...everything that happened, but we all just want to see you happy. I know him from before. I know the man he used to be, and if you say that he’s returned to that person-if you say that he’s even half the man he once was-I’d be glad to call him a friend again. You’re the glue that holds this team together, Eva. There’s so much love here for you, and there’s more than enough to spread that to Loki, too.”

Tears of joy streamed down my cheeks as I felt the warmth of Steve’s loyalty to me. It was the kind of warmth that pierced right through the surface of my skin and spread the comfort right into my bones. He brushed away the tears as I smiled up at him. The mere idea that I could piece my family back together-the idea that so many people were willing to help me accomplish that-was overwhelming. It dawned on me that it was the perfect moment to tell Steve. The tears dried, and I tried to fight back a grin, “you say that there’s more than enough love to spread to Loki, but...what about someone else?” I asked, hinting to the secret that only Tony knew about. The process was happening just as fast as before, and it wouldn’t be long until my secret was visible.

“Absolutely!” he exclaimed, his eyes bright with excitement, “Tony told us about Harley and Kaia when he was giving his full recollection of what happened. They’re more than welcome to come with you if you decide to come and stay with me. They belong wherever you are. Aurora has her own room right now, but she’d have no problem sharing her space. She barely even sleeps in there anyway. I usually find her on the floor by one of the windows in the middle of the night,” he added as the small piece of information hit my heart like a train. I had my theories as to why she did that, but I needed to hear it from her.

Not wanting to give Steve another reason to worry about me, I proceeded, a glimmer of excitement amongst the overwhelming fear, “no...I mean...what about one more?”

“Your father?” he asked, still not getting the hint. I felt like I’d have to all but shout it at him for him to realize what I was insinuating, but before I could hint at it again, he continued, a fond smile on his face at the thought of my father, “Aaldir was here for as long as he could before he had to go back to Asgard, but he and I got along really well, actually. Tony might have the most amount of space, but I can make a good argument as to why you should stay with me. My apartment might be a tight fit, especially with three Asgardians, two children, and myself, but the more the merrier. Your father is more than welcome to come along. I sleep on the couch most nights anyway.” I laughed at his obliviousness and silently hoped that he would never change. The world was unkind to him all his life, but he maintained that boyish innocence through it all. “I’m glad to make any renovations you’d need, too. I’m handy with tools,” he added, hoping it would sway me in the right direction. The man was willing to do absolutely anything for me.

I let out a long breath, one I didn’t know I had been holding until my chest fell. The weight slipped from my shoulders the moment our eyes met, “what about a nursery?”

His eyes brightened with life, and he pulled away even more as those twinkling blue eyes flickered between me and my loosely covered abdomen. The purest smile plastered itself on his face, “wait...you...are you pregnant?” he asked, struggling to find the right words, unsure of how he should ask.

His pure joy at the mere idea that I was with child caused my heart to swell with love. Too emotional to speak, I simply nodded my head, biting my bottom lip to suppress the smile. The fear of the future bled away as Steve’s excitement took hold of me. He threw his arms around my waist. The warmth of his life essence encircled mine and surrounded it with the love and care I was in desperate need of. No matter how much bloodshed I had caused or how much I had seen-no matter how many battlefields I stood upon-there were times when I needed someone to hold me and times when I needed to feel protected. As I buried my face into his shoulder, my grin became even wider, “all I know is that the situation in Asgard needs to be resolved before this child is born, and then I’ll be free to commit treason and bring Loki here. Then, I can finally have my family the way I always dreamed of: together.”

I felt the sudden change within him, which caused me to pull away just enough to see that the joyous smile was evicted from its home on his lips, and it was replaced by a tight frown. The idea of me riding into a war that could potentially claim my life was upsetting for him, and I knew because the tables turned between us, “if you need help, you always know that this...strange and dysfunctional family is here for you. We would bleed for you, Eva. Never forget that.”

The mere thought of them taking on Cul and Ezra caused a wave of fear to crash into me, nearly causing my knees to buckle. A chill rolled through me. I knew that they would fight and bleed for me, that they would die for me, but I wouldn’t let them. I refused to risk the lives of my people even if it was for the greater good, “Cul and Ezra are my problems, and-”

He cut me off, his voice strong and stern, “and you’re ours! You came down to Earth during some of our greatest times of need, and you risked your life to protect us. We’re willing to do the same for you. I’m willing to be thrown into space if it means I can help keep two-three-” he gestured down to my abdomen, “-of my favorite people safe and reunite my other favorite person with her family,” he added, smiling at the mere mention of Aurora.

“You’re so good, Steve Rogers-far too good for this world and all you’ve been through,” I noted, resting my head back onto his shoulder as our swaying picked back up again.

“I could say the same about you,” he smiled, his heart rate slowing back down as he pushed the idea of the future away from us, trying desperately to focus on the present. Every so often, his heart would speed up and skip a beat, and I wondered if it was because he caught himself thinking about the future and all the unknowns that came with it. After a few long moments of silence between us, he laughed, “I guess we're both a bit lucky that our dance took this long to come about. My clothes fit much better, and I’m a little less clumsy.”

I smirked, gazing up into his eyes, “but you’re still the same man you were all those years ago, and I wouldn’t change that for the world.”

“I haven’t changed much, but I can finally manage myself around you, which is probably the biggest change aside from the fact that I’m taller than you now,” he teased me, taking pride in the handful of inches that he stood above me.

“You seemed to do well back then,” I noted as the fingers of my left hand began stroking the back of his neck. Occasionally, they would rake through his soft golden locks, but his hair wasn’t long enough for my fingers to lose themselves-not the same way they did in Loki’s wild raven hair. For a moment, I wondered what Steve would look like with the long hair that so many Asgardian men donned, and the thought of it made my cheeks flush with color.

Even though he couldn’t possibly know what I was thinking, I watched as blood rushed to Steve’s cheeks the same way it did to mine. He fought back a coy smile, trying to hide his blush, but I had already seen it. Knowing that I wouldn’t call attention to it, he cleared his throat and proceeded with the conversation, “you clearly don’t remember it the same way I do. I would’ve stepped on your toes over and over again because I would’ve been hopelessly lost with a woman like you in my arms. I’m still just as lost, but I can mind my feet a little better,” he grinned, clearly not giving himself enough credit. The moment I opened my mouth to argue against his claim, he continued, his face becoming solemn, “I still have the biggest crush on you. I’m not afraid to say it. I’m still madly, hopelessly, irrevocably in love with you, and that will never change. I sit up most nights, and I tell myself that in another life-in another alternate reality-maybe there’s a version of me who is living his happily ever after with you as his wife. He’s the one who got the happy ending with a dog and a handful of kids with you. He had the courage to dance with you that night in 1943, and you fell just as hopelessly in love with him as he was with you. I tell myself that he’s in his own reality, happier than ever because he can grow old beside the woman of his dreams, but this version of me...I’m happy because you’re on your way to being happy, and that is all that matters to me. I know I can’t have you, but you’re the love of my life, Eva, and that’s just how the story goes.”

Our swaying came to another abrupt halt as his words began to sink in. I wasn’t taken aback by any of them, but what I was taken aback by was his willingness to tell me with so much confidence. He was still the shy man that he used to be, but he spoke his truth with conviction. As I turned his words over and over again in my mind, he took the opportunity to keep speaking, “I have something for you,” he murmured, reaching into his pants pocket. He didn’t give me much time to process what he said previously before he changed the subject, but I knew that I would have plenty of time to think about it later in the night. From his pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper. He gazed down at it, clearing away the lump in his throat before he spoke, “Bucky...” he stopped, the mere mention of his late friend bringing about a sadness that left me feeling the hole in my chest once more. The one I couldn’t save. The soldier. Bucky. He pressed on, tears forming in his crystal blue eyes, “he left me two separate letters the day he was shipped out. One was for me, filled with some sentimental words and some words about you. The other...well, he asked that the other be given to you if I ever saw you again. He didn’t care if it was a year down the line or even if it was after he...was gone. I think he knew in his heart that we would find each other again, so...I kept it on me ever since. It’s time that I gave it to its rightful owner.”

He held his hand out. The fragile, worn piece of paper looked like it had been through it all, which it had. Steve kept it on his person, and it showed. In Steve’s hand rested the final words I would have from Bucky. They wouldn’t be the ones filled with fear and sorrow that I heard when I held him in the snow. The words in the snow were fearful, but they quickly bled into ones of amazement and love. He kept claiming that he knew it would be me that he would see in his last moments, that he was right. I didn’t want him to be right. I didn’t want there to be a final moment for him. As I stared down at the letter, I was left in disbelief. He thought of me right before he left. He made sure to write a letter for his best friend and for a girl he only met once, a girl he danced with for a handful of songs, a girl he held for only a fraction of his life. He thought of me enough to write me a letter, almost like he knew that he didn’t want to leave me with the words in the snow with blood all around us. I was unable to speak. I was rendered completely and utterly speechless as I stared down at the folded note. I couldn’t even move it to take it from Steve’s hand.

Sensing my inability to even move, Steve brushed past me and placed the note on my nightstand. I watched him, my eyes wide as I continued to process everything that was happening. All the while, I was also busy trying to shove my last memories of Bucky back into the box that made that loss more manageable, “I know you plan on leaving tomorrow,” Steve blurted out, his back facing me as he positioned the note just so on the nightstand. When he turned to face me, I saw the fear of the unknown in his eyes, but I was just as fearful that someone else knew. How could he know? I didn’t tell anyone or even write it down for anyone to find. Perhaps he could simply feel it, “I know that there’s nothing I can do to stop you, but...you need to come back. I’m telling you that I need you to come back because I’m not finished. I will never be finished. There may be a few chapters of my life without you, but I won’t settle for a story that ends without you still by my side as my best friend, the love of my life, and the woman who would’ve let me step on her toes. I can’t kiss you the way I want to or love you the way I want to or marry you, so...please don’t make me live my life without you, too, Eva. I can’t do that. Don’t ask me to do that,” he begged before a rapid knocking on the door pulled our attention.

Steve called out the invitation to enter the room as I still hadn’t recovered from any of what just happened, but he seemed to be doing fine. I suddenly took notice of everything. Every single one of my senses felt like it was on overdrive. I heard the light squeak of the doorknob as it turned and the way the air caught the door as it opened just enough for Natasha to poke her head into the room. I heard the way she shifted on her feet, and I smelled the sweetness of her delicate perfume from all the way across the room. I was hyper-aware of everything around me. Natasha smiled, adding light to the room that seemed to darken in my sadness. My heart-like Steve’s-skipped a beat as I was brought back to the present, “when you two fossils are done with your love-fest in here, we have a movie night to tend to. The cookies are finally perfected, thanks to yours truly, so I’d better not be the only one eating them!”

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the-marvel-imagines-blog · 5 years

Text

Madness | Chpt. 28

Chapter Title: “The Nameless Ones”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character (Eva)

Word Count: 9,274

Warnings: Some light angst, Depressed!Loki, mentions of suicidal thoughts, Aaldir being such a dad

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

Summary: Aaldir makes a difficult decision to protect the ones he loves, and Eva shares a heart-to-heart with her enemy.

A/N: Once again, I want to apologize for another unexpected hiatus I went on. As it turns out my “short depressive episode” turned out to be much longer than I anticipated, and that’s partially my fault. It’s still ongoing, but I’m working through it. Thank you so much for the words of encouragement from those who reached out. You give me so much love, and I hope that it’s deserved <3

*Loki’s POV*

The last time I saw her, I kissed her and whispered into her ear how excited I was for the next time we would see each other. I missed her before she even left. The anticipation of seeing her again, of our future conversations of running away together to get married, left me giddy with excitement that night. However, when I felt the sudden void filling my chest, Ezra’s reaction did nothing but confirm what I already knew. She died. She died, and I wasn’t there with her. For weeks, I’d been begging for death and destroying my cell until my furniture was taken from me in an attempt to protect me from myself. The moment I realized the empty feeling in my soul, I broke the chaise lounge chair in my room, and I hid one of the legs. I fashioned it into a knife that I planned to plunge into my heart that night when the guards weren’t looking. All I wanted was to be with her, to take back every moment of heartbreak I put her through and hold her in my arms one more time. I wanted to breathe in the scent of the forest that was upon her hair and make her a crown of twigs, leaves, and flowers that she would wear with pride. I wanted to kiss her, drinking in the very soul that connected us.

Ezra, upon seeing what I was trying to do, warned the guards who confiscated my makeshift weapon along with every piece of furniture that could’ve possibly been turned into an object that could cause me harm. I didn’t understand his reasoning for it. He hadn’t said much after confessing that he and Eva were siblings, and it shocked me to know that she had come from such filth. She was the embodiment of purity and light, and he was the embodiment of tainted goods and darkness. Part of me doubted their relationship, but his conviction and worry seemed to be genuine when he spoke to Thor that day. He seemed truly terrified for her well-being. Ezra paced around his cell all day until the moment I felt the void, and I was certain that he felt it, too, for he fell to his knees, a dark mist spreading through his cell as his eyes turned bright red. Eva’s had done that before, but I told myself that it was nothing more than a coincidence.

Sitting in the silence, I did nothing but stare up at the ceiling day in and day out. I couldn’t sleep without seeing her face and entertaining the countless scenarios that could’ve taken place, so I didn’t sleep. I didn’t eat because I felt sick to my stomach whenever I tried. I didn’t even want to breathe, but my body betrayed me, forcing me to continue living a life that was void without her. The only hope I had left was that we would meet each other in whatever came after this. There was a plan I had lined up for later that night, a plan to end this, to finally be embraced by the peace that eluded me for far too long. I’d be with her soon. I didn’t dare to close my eyes for too long for fear that sleep would pull me into its cold abyss, and I’d be left dreaming of all the ways she could’ve died. No one was permitted to see me, so I would never know. Odin had been keeping a closer eye on the dungeons lately, but the reason was unclear to me. There were more guards, and there were no more visits from Frigga in the last few weeks.

Fearing that if I continued laying on the floor, I’d fall asleep, I pulled myself up, leaning my body against the wall in a seated position. Everything I did felt like an inconvenience. I couldn’t even be bothered to clean the dried blood off my hands from where I tried to destroy anything and everything I could get my hands on to use in a desperate attempt to take my own life. I was lost without her light. My actions would’ve disappointed her had she seen me, but I hoped she would forgive me. Scattered across the room were the leather-bound books she had gifted to me, filled with her letters and poems to me. Early in the mornings, I would wake up alone in bed to see her sitting at the desk Aaldir had built for me, penning poetry to me, clad in nothing more than a sheet. She didn’t enjoy sleep the way others did. Even though it offered a freedom from the worries of the world, she wished to drink in every single moment. On rare occasions, she would fall asleep before me to leave me in awe of her beauty. However, most of the time, she was still awake when I fell asleep, and she was awake before I woke up in the morning.

There were times when I would be unable to sleep, and I’d find my way out of the bed after gazing upon the ever beautiful visage of my muse. She offered me so much inspiration and brought about a sense of wonder into my life. Colors were more vibrant with her, the world smelled sweeter, the flowers bloomed more beautifully in her wake. There wasn’t a single word in any language throughout the universe that could properly describe the way she made me feel, to properly describe the beauty of my life when she was close to me. As I cracked open the book, it was as if the world came alive once more. It was her love pouring out of the book as if the leather-bound work was her heart itself. My eyes skimmed over the words as shameless tears streamed down my cheeks.

Loki,

I have a question I cannot wait until morning to ask, but the view of you sleeping under the light of the moon leaves me helplessly, infinitely more in love with you than I was even a second ago; therefore, I cannot bring myself to wake you, but I pray you understand this. I want to know if you would change the mind of fate if she decides someday that we should no longer be together. Would you fight destiny in order to love as freely as we do now? I do not know why this concerns me on this night, but my dreams have not been kind to me as of late. I do not doubt our loyalty to one another, but I am in need of reassurance in the rarest circumstances. I awoke this morning to watch your sleeping face, your eyelashes casting shadows onto cheeks that I have been lucky enough to caress for so long, and my first thought was one of unyielding love. Gods, it hurts to love you this much, almost as if my heart will burst at the seams from the sheer amount of disbelief and joy. How could a man so flawlessly imperfect be in love with a girl like me? What stars aligned to give me this consciousness in this reality where I get to fall in love and sleep next to you each and every night. I yearn for the day we are married, Loki, but until then, I will crawl back into bed with you and drink in the peace of you. I love you, and I love you more.

I flipped through even more pages. Tears blurring my vision as her words brought about the countless memories that Thanos locked away in my mind. When I saw her, those memories were dug up, springing back to life with such ferocity. In each letter, each poem, each quick sketch of me, I felt the warmth of her love filling my heart like she was still alive. It was both the most comforting thing and the thing that made me wish to join her all the more. Right before I could read through another letter, I felt a familiar presence. While it wasn’t the one I had been hoping for, when my eyes met Aaldir’s, I was thankful that he had come to see me. It had been far too long since I’d seen the man I harbored so much love and admiration for. He raised the woman I wanted to marry. Though I believed our souls had loved each other since the beginning, he loved her before I had the chance to, and he trusted me to continue on the tradition of loving her as endlessly as he did. I failed.

His dark brown eyes took in the sight of me with a hint of disbelief. He’d never seen me quite like this. He saw me the day I fell from the bridge, but that man was one of madness. He was thirsty for the control and power that had been ripped away from him. That man was desperate to be free to love the woman he was destined to be with, so he betrayed himself and her to gain control. The man became in the wake of her absence, though, was a miserable shell of the man he knew me to be. I closed the book, raking my fingers through my hair until the got caught in the tangled mess, “are you here to tell me how she died?” I choked out, wiping the tears from my cheeks. I failed to wipe them away fast enough, though, “are you here to rub it in my face how I was only gifted a single night with her before she was ripped away from me once more? Did you come here to remind me that my lovers eyes-which lit up my world like the morning sun-will never meet mine again? Or did you come here to show me mercy-to grant me the death I’ve been begging for since I felt the emptiness in my chest?” I asked, my eyes finally meeting his.

Before he could answer my questions, though, I continued, not knowing if I could handle the answers. I was afraid that he would give me the details of her death, tell me that she had a warrior’s end like she was deserving of, but that wasn’t what I dreamed for her. I didn’t dream that she would die in battle. I dreamed of living out our lives and dying in peace. That was, after all, what she did after a lifetime of fighting Odin’s wars. I continued, “you are, after all, the God of Mercy, so I ask you to strike hard and fast, to send me into her loving arms-a fate I’ve longed for since the start of my pathetic excuse for an existence. I ask you to bury us both beneath the tree where we celebrated our love, beneath the tree where we would have been married. I ask you to forgive me for all I’ve done, for if I had not spoiled our love, perhaps she wouldn’t have been claimed by Death so early. I would’ve been free to go to Earth with her, and there would have been a chance she could have survived. Please, let me be with her,” I begged, my voice breaking as the tears continued to stream down my cheeks.

“You will be with her, but it will not be in death,” he blurted out through the lump in his throat. His words sparked a hope within me, but understanding that I couldn’t possibly form the question he knew was sitting in my heart, he continued his explanation, “she’s still very much alive and recovering on Midgard. By the time we got to her she was-” he cleared his throat, unable to murmur the word. It was a word neither of us ever wanted to associate with her, but I knew what he meant. He forced back the tears, “your brother struck her with a bolt of lightning that restarted her heart, and she remained in a comatose state on the very brink of death for over a week before she finally woke up. I wish I could have come sooner, but I had other matters to tend to. If it wasn’t for Thor’s decision in the heat of the moment, I’m convinced she would’ve been lost forever, but she has fully recovered. Look inward, and you will see that she’s still very much alive.”

I calmed my mind in the way only Eva could teach me how to. Frigga tried to teach me since I was a young boy, but Eva was the one who broke through to me. I drowned out every bit of white noise that clouded my mind from the voices that told me she was dead and that it was my fault to the various scenarios of her death that rose up to greet me whenever I closed my eyes. My eyes fluttered closed as the dungeons became silent. I heard nothing, no voices, no movements, no small voice in the back of my mind telling me the horrible lies that I believed to be truths for so long. All that existed was nothingness. Only in that vast nothing did I feel that ever-present vibration that came with her mere existence. She was still alive. The moment I felt the void, it overcame me to the point that I could feel nothing else. The sound I created drowned out the calming presence she held within my heart. Upon realizing that she was still alive, my heart lightened as a wave of relief hit me, “she’s still on Midgard. Why?” I asked, opening my eyes to meet Aaldir’s.

“She wishes to return home to you, but there is much you have yet to learn,” he answered without truly answering anything at all. Aaldir had always been gifted at that, especially when he was covering up for Eva and I. Mistakes we made were always fixed and dismissed by Aaldir, especially in the presence of Odin who treated it like his ultimate quest to punish the two of us. Aaldir was a master at answering with a nonanswer. He frowned, the expression never looking quite right on his face, “I’m afraid I cannot share the details with you at this moment, for your situation is about to change momentarily. Odin asked for my counsel on what should happen to you in the wake of the coming storm. I know war well enough to know that Cul will come to us to reclaim what is his.”

“You may know war, but you do not know my father!” Ezra interjected from his cell, his voice deep and rough as he spoke of his father. It was one of the more shocking things I discovered in our time in the dungeons. Cul described to me the intricacies of Eva’s parentage, shared stories of his father, and exchanged only a few words about his mother. He spoke much more softly of her than he did his father, a man he clearly harbored respect or fear toward; it was difficult to tell the difference in those crazed eyes.

Aaldir cast his gaze over his shoulder at Ezra, “I’ve known men like your father all my life, and-”

Ezra cut him off, his eyes flashing red as the rage trailed down into the veins of his hands, causing them to glow with the same unrelenting fire, “there are no men like him!” he yelled words that were so familiar to me, words that were similar to those I declared on Midgard.

“The nine realms in all their differences have each experienced their fair share of tyranny, death, and destruction that have come at the hands of those who shared the same archetypal labyrinth of characteristics as your father. I’ve known men like him, and I’ve defeated men like him,” Aaldir argued back, shaking his head in clear disappointment. He had been through more than most men and women could claim. He’d seen so much war and ruin in his time, so much death. I wished to know who he was as a boy, to get a glimpse of the child that still lived within him. I saw the twinkle of hope and youth in his sad eyes when he looked at Eva and Hjalmar, but the universe had never been particularly kind to him, even though he offered up nothing but kindness and mercy. I wished to know if this was the man he always dreamed he would become...or if I was the only one who disappointed my younger self. Aaldir continued with conviction, his voice turning into a low growl that held more rage than that of the wild wolves in his woods as he pulled me from my darkening thoughts, “if he comes to us, if he threatens my family or the people I love, I will do it again.”

“She’s not your family!” Ezra snapped, the fire burning even brighter in his eyes, “she belongs to you as much as the air in my lungs belongs to me. It is fleeting. You have tried to tame the wind, and you will see soon enough that you failed.”

“You will try to test her loyalty, and you will lose,” Aaldir barked, his voice never faltering. For all intents and purposes, Eva was his daughter. He raised her from the time she was a baby, and he showed her the unconditional love that every child needed. He didn’t try to tame the wildness in her because he knew that it was what made her who she was: a little girl he would give his life for since day one. He never tried to tame her, but we both knew that Ezra spoke of something much more sinister. He believed that there was an evil within her that just had to be coaxed out, that it had been laying dormant for a thousand years because the light was kept from shining on that part of her being. We all knew better. She wasn’t that person...she couldn’t be.

He doesn’t know death yet; he hasn’t met me.

Her words continued to echo in my mind, and I knew she was in danger. It wasn’t until recently that I saw her unquenchable thirst for revenge, that I witnessed the anger that was silent within her for a millenia and suddenly began to speak. It was no surprise that the change occurred with Ezra’s arrival on Midgard, or maybe it was after I left her in the garden. There was so much time that we spent apart from one another that I couldn’t pinpoint the moment her fear sparked a rage in her. Ezra would know how to corrupt that, how to bring about a darkness that the universe has never seen from her, and I couldn’t let that happen. While it was obvious that she could protect herself, this would be an unfair fight. She didn’t know what she was capable of...I didn’t even know what she was capable of. What she could become didn’t matter to me, though, but I would fight until my last breath to keep her from destroying herself. If she did fall into the pit of darkness that Ezra seemed to know all too well, it would destroy her if she found the light afterward, “there’s something she doesn’t share with you that she does with us...blood. She will accept her place with us, or we will paint the streets of Asgard red and force her hand,” Ezra threatened, a twisted grin forming on his lips. I watched as Aaldir became tense. His jaw clenched as he thought of the potential danger that Asgard would be put in. If Cul’s plan unfolded the way Ezra claimed it would, if they laid waste to Asgard, Eva would willingly sacrifice herself to stop it. They were planning on forcing her hand. In Aaldir’s silence, Ezra took the opportunity to continue, “the great wolf is fearful. She will learn how to be strong despite your weakness.”

A rustling that sounded a short distance from the entrance of the dungeons pulled Aaldir’s attention before he turned his gaze back over to me, ignoring Ezra’s threats, “Cul will come here regardless of the next steps we take, so I took it upon myself to convince the Allfather that you could pose a great threat should Cul find you and release you,” he explained, my heart dropping at the sound of those words. He finally lost his faith in me, just as so many others had. He didn’t even lose his faith when he fought me on the bridge, aiding my brother in a desperate attempt to save me from myself. Tears welled up in my eyes as I felt nothing but sheer disappointment in myself. I lowered my eyes, unable to look at him as the shame washed over me, “you should know me well enough by now to know that I don’t believe that, but Cul doesn’t know the winding halls of these dungeons as well as a handful of us do. You need to know that I said what I said to ensure your safety in the war to come. If he knows where you are, he’ll use you to get to Eva, and if that doesn’t work, he’ll execute you. I gave her my word to protect you. This is the best I can do,” he explained with conviction.

My eyebrows furrowed. This was our first interaction after everything I had done. I was prepared for him to hate me for what I put his family through. I abandoned them all when I abandoned Eva, but he forgave me before I even had the opportunity to apologize. What deed had I performed that was wholesome enough to deserve people like him in my life? He treated me like more of a son than Odin ever did, taking me into his home and seating me at his table as if I was one of his own. Even when I was cast aside, I knew that there was always a place for me in that cottage. The lump in my throat rendered me unable to speak, but Ezra took the silence as an opportunity to threaten a man who had done nothing to deserve that treatment, “my father will find him regardless of the steps you take to hide him, and if he can’t, we’ll find him together,” he hissed, madness building in his voice. I glared at him as his eyes flickered over to me, “my father is a hunter, and by being her beloved, you have made yourself his prey. These dungeons aren’t deep enough to hide you away from him, especially when capturing you would be rewarded with her surrender.”

Before I could speak in an attempt to defend her strength to a man who clearly knew very little about her, Aaldir turned his attention back over to a man whose mere presence seemed to cause him so much grief and guilt combined, “you will be joining him, Ezra,” he confessed, his voice thick with unshed tears, “I failed to protect you before, and I’d sooner die than let that happen again,” he continued, his eyes telling a story I didn’t know the plot to. There was something in the past that I wasn’t gifted the knowledge of, but I knew that with time, Eva would explain everything to me. While her past didn’t define who she was, it would shape pieces of her, and I knew that if she was aware of her lineage, it was tearing her apart.

“If you think this sentiment will save you, it won’t,” Ezra hissed, his eyes glowing red as even more rage coursed through him. He frightened me on a deeper level than even Thanos had managed. Ezra knew so much about Eva without even truly knowing her. Thanos didn’t know what made her tick the way Ezra seemed to. The man who bore a striking resemblance to her, knew that I was one of the few pieces of weakness in her heart. My love was as immovable as a mountain, but when it came to her loved ones, she was a leaf in the wind. He knew exactly how to wind her up and play her like a music box. For one of Asgard’s greatest enemies to know such intimate details about its greatest defender was bone-chilling.

Aaldir shook his head, “I’m not planning on it saving me. In fact, I plan on meeting my end when I face your father on the battlefield, but if I can protect you from him the way I couldn’t do when you were just an innocent child, when my hand was forced, my death will be worth something. I still see you as my son just as much as Eva is my daughter.”

“You’re not our father!” Ezra screamed, pounding his fist against the wall as the blackened mist continued to spread around him. He was crazed.

The God of Mercy flinched away from the words that stung, a reaction that I guessed would’ve been similar to someone plunging a knife through his heart. The words cut through him, but he collected himself quickly, offering a kind smile to the man who threatened his home, his daughter, and himself. There was a history there that I was uncertain of, a history that I wished would play before me like a long forgotten memory that was pulled to the surface. There was so much pain, yet so much love in Aaldir’s deep brown eyes as he looked at Ezra, “you have no idea what I would’ve done to keep you both,” he murmured, his voice as calming as the sound of the water lapping against the shore. It brought me back to sinking my toes in the sand with Eva by my side when we travelled up to Maine to stay in one of Howard’s many beachfront homes in an attempt to go about our stay on Midgard as domestically as possible. If I held the memory close enough, it would keep me warm in the cold depths of the dungeons. Aaldir continued, “there’s a piece of you-one that was buried deep when your father tore your innocence away-that is glad that I spared her and gave her the life you were both meant to have. You still love her, and that’s part of the reason why you want to get to her before your father does. You know what he’ll do to her, and you’d rather die than watch that happen. You may hate me; you may despise me, but for a short time, you were mine. I saw you as my son, a child that was deserving of love and nurturing just as any. I didn’t see you as a monster.”

“What about now?” Ezra asked, the mist falling away from him as his eyes returned to the color of spring. He was calm, filled with the serenity that Aaldir managed to instill in so many. There was a vulnerability in him that I never expected, and for just a moment, I saw Eva’s light in him.

“I still don’t,” Aaldir answered, cementing himself as one of the most forgiving men I’d ever known in all my life. He represented the mercy that a ruler should’ve had, and I saw that same merciful side in Eva even though she wasn’t his blood, “little more than a thousand years ago, your mother brought the two of you to me with tears in her eyes. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen at that point in my life. There was so much darkness in her, but when she held the two of you, there was nothing but light. She only wanted what was best for you both. Before she left, I promised her that I would protect you and your sister with my life, and that’s what I’m going to do until I take my last breath. Even if it is you who drives the sword through my heart, it matters not to me. I am a man of my word,” he stated, a vision of the future flashing across his eyes. Of all the people I had lost in my life, his death would prove to be one of the hardest, “when this is all over, I hope you can forgive me for this. The lower dungeons will not be kind to you, but you will be safe there until this ends.”

I shook my head, “I don’t care about my safety. It would mean nothing without her. If Asgard is dangerous, keep her away.”

He chuckled, that familiar twinkle in his deep brown eyes. It was always present when he spoke of her, as if she were a goddess and he was just a mere mortal, “you’ve known my daughter for over a thousand years; therefore, you should know by now that she maintains an undying loyalty to the people she loves. If she thinks that her presence on Asgard could keep you safe-could keep anyone safe-I would be unable to convince her otherwise. I’d sooner be able to move a mountain with my bare hands than turn her away from you. Such is love, though, Loki. A goddess walks among us each day, a bringer of life, and you hold her whole heart; cherish it,” he advised me, “should we never meet again, should I experience my warriors death on the battlefield-”

I cut him off, angry that he would be so cruel as to bring up a part of life that I knew to be inevitable. None of us could escape death, but there was no need for preemptive goodbye’s. I cared not to wallow in misery that had not greeted me, yet. Losing him would’ve been like losing the only father I ever had, and the mere thought of it was enough to make me crumble, “speak not of such things!” I snapped at him, feeling the heat of anger in my chest. He would die an old man after Eva and I welcomed our children into the world. He needed to have time with them, to give them the same pieces of joy that he bestowed upon Eva, Hjalmar, and myself while we were growing up. He wasn’t finished. There was still more time.

“I wish for you to know this,” he struggled to speak. His tears were those of grief for a life that he had a feeling would be cut short. Part of his grief, I knew, was that he would be leaving his daughter in the world, hoping only that he had helped her build a sturdy enough foundation to build the rest of her life upon. He was aware of his importance in the lives of those around him. It hurt my heart to watch the man, who taught me how to be a man, crack ever so slightly before me. I knew that he needed to say the words in his heart before he left, so I remained silent, watching as he steadied his trembling hands, “the moment I held her in my arms for the first time, I wished for one thing and one thing only: I wished for her to be happy. I wished for her to find that happiness in herself first, and she did. Then, I wished for her to spread that happiness and kindness to the world, and she did. I prayed for the universe to send her whatever man or woman she would tie her soul to for an eternity, and the sky opened up to shine its light on you. You were the happiness I wished for her since she was just an infant who could’ve been lost in my arms. You were everything I hoped for and more,” he confessed, causing my heart to swell with uncontainable pride. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I struggled to hold them back.

“Even in the moments that darkened her skies, you continued to teach her. Your absence made her more sure of herself. Your fall from the Bifrost made her even more passionate about life, about spreading the love you still filled her with to the world around her. What happened in New York made her stronger than ever before. She broke, but she learned how to put herself back together, binding the pieces of her shattered spirit back together with gold so that she would shine more beautifully than ever before. Now, she burns with the intensity of a dying star, but she will not fade. You taught her how to love herself by loving her so deeply. You should know that I love you as if you were my own, for you are the light my daughter wanders to when she is uncertain,” he continued, those words finally breaking me. The tears began to flow silently down my cheeks as I bit my bottom lip to stop it from quivering. I loved him like a father. He protected me and loved me, and it took such a long time for me to realize that my actions didn’t affect their love for me. He still stood before me with the same paternal love in his eyes for me as he did before I tore apart everything good I ever had, “you have given her a lifetime of happiness and a lifetime of strength. I am forever grateful, and you are forever loved. I care not of what name you hold, for you are my family. I look forward to the day when I can hand the very heart of my life over to you under the eyes of the Gods because I know that she will be treated like a queen even without a crown.”

*Eva’s POV*

My eyes caught the familiar figure standing at the window, staring out at the city. He was the last person I wanted to see, since it was a reminder that my mind would never truly be my own with him around. Ezra’s frame was massive even in the over-the-top room that Tony had given to me as my own personal sleeping quarters; however, I spent every waking moment in the confines of the room, gazing out at the city just as Ezra did. The more he visited my mind, the more I was realizing how similar we were. He admired the humans like I did, but he had no great love for them, which was where we differed. I had a great love for every living thing, but he looked at the Midgardians as insignificant, all-too-temporary creatures. With his back turned to me, I took the opportunity to close the space between us, standing directly beside him. While he was my enemy-an enemy of my people-I still couldn’t shake the bond that we shared, the one that pulled me closer and closer to a man who seemed hell-bent on shattering my world into pieces. Perhaps that was my calling, though. What if I was meant to love the “unlovables” and understand the misunderstood? What if I was meant to empathize with the villains and nurture the blood-soaked, battle-hardened warriors?

As I took my place beside him, the connection growing stronger and stronger with every passing second, I listened to his heartbeat. He was...uncertain? There was a fear in him that I didn’t feel until that moment as we stood beside each other. His normal demeanor faded away, the facade giving way to his true face. His green eyes that perfectly matched mine were no longer harsh and cold, they were distant. He was lost in thought, a million scenarios racing through his mind all at once as he stared out into the night sky. The man he became right before my eyes wasn’t the same man who threatened to kill everyone I loved. As his insecurity threatened to swallow him whole, a comfortable silence formed between us. No words needed to be spoken. My presence beside him was all I could offer: some strange form of support, “you shouldn’t return to Asgard,” he finally warned me, trying to cover up the vulnerability that his words exposed to me.

I snickered, crossing my arms over my chest, “don’t tell me what to do.” My eyes flickered up to meet his as the grin remained a fixture on my lips.

“Do you want to know something?” he asked, a genuine smile forming on his lips. It was becoming one of the strangest encounters I ever had with my enemy, but in the moment, he didn’t feel like my enemy or Asgard’s enemy; he felt like a missing piece of myself-the one I had been looking for all my life.

I shook my head, “not really, no,” I answered with the same playfulness I used to use with Hjalmar. It came so naturally with Ezra in that moment.

“You’re exactly how I pictured you to be, you know?” he asked, turning away from me as if he felt a level of shame in admitting something with so much vulnerability. His words caught me off guard, but I continued to listen intently, watching his facial expression the whole time, “when I found out that I had a sister, a twin who was only a few minutes younger than me, I always pictured her to be this...gentle beauty, filled with the peace I never had the luxury of knowing. Then, there would be a part of her that was wild, a fierceness that would match my own. She would have the sharp tongue and warrior spirit of our father and the beauty and resilience of our mother,” he noted, his voice softening as he spoke of her. There was a clear love there, a connection that I felt with her since before we even met. There was a twinkle in his eye the moment he mentioned her, and I couldn’t ignore that the same twinkle was there when he looked at me a moment ago, “I dreamt of you every night, wondering if you were somewhere in the universe, unable to escape your neverending dreams of me. I wondered what it would be like to be close to you, but the closest I ever came in all those lonely years was in my dreams. Those dreams were the only beautiful things I had.”

“You grew up with our parents...that was something beautiful in and of itself,” I retorted, trying to get him to see that he had something incredibly beautiful, something I wished I could’ve had. While I had the most loving, incredible upbringing with a father and brother who loved me with their whole hearts, there was still a piece of me that yearned for what I did not have. I grew up filled with questions, wondering what I had done that made them not want me. It wasn’t until more than a thousand years into my life that I received the answers I was looking for, but for the first millennia, I was filled with self-doubt and confusion. He didn’t have to live with that. He didn’t wake up in the morning and wonder what his parents looked like or what their names were. He had them.

He shook his head, “if you knew the man our father was, you wouldn’t envy my upbringing in the slightest,” he frowned at his own response. Memories flashed before his eyes, and I fought back the urge to reach out and touch him, knowing that he was only an illusion anyway. I didn’t want to disappoint myself when my hand would inevitably phase through his arm. He cleared his throat and collected himself before continuing to speak, “at night, I would fall asleep in sheer darkness, and I would open my eyes in my dream world of light and beauty where I would chase you around a forest with not a care or fear in the world. I’ve never been partial to wooded areas or dense forests-one could say I was fearful of them-but...you were the one leading me, so it didn’t seem all that terrible. You were always just out of reach, though, which seemed rather fitting. Part of me always hoped you would stay that way forever, that you would never be close enough to see me, to feel what I could do to you, what these hands were made to do,” he cursed himself, glancing down at his slender fingers that were calloused with years of war and destruction.

“They were made to be hands; it’s you who decides what to do with them,” I reminded him before another comfortable silence fell between the two of us. There were so many words that he wished to say-I could feel them-but he refused to speak them. He wished to try to convince me that he was a monster. While I believed that in our previous interactions, there was a doubt in my mind that arose with the one we found ourselves in. I would’ve fought him, and he was aware of that. Not wishing to argue with me, he remained quiet, and I took the opportunity to think on his words. He dreamt of me, and as we stood in the presence of one another, so many of the more inconsequential memories of my childhood came flooding back to me. I remembered the dreams, the ones I awoke from, eager to speak to my father about the boy from them. He brushed them off in front of me, but I could vividly remember the flash of fear in his eyes, “I dreamt of you, too, especially when we were children. The dream was always the same, though-similar to the one you had, but the roles were reversed. I would chase you through the woods, and we would come to this cliff-”

He cut me off, “that was adjacent to the waterfall,” he noted, turning his eyes to meet my own.

I was shocked at how familiar he was of those woods. I knew them like the back of my hand, but I grew up in that forest. Clearly, my dream was one he had often enough to remember such a vivid detail. I didn’t want to ask him questions about his familiarity, but I nodded in response to the one he asked, “the one that was adjacent to the waterfall,” I murmured, staring up into those perfect green eyes that held none of the anger and rage I had seen in them previously, none of the abhorrence he seemed to harbor for me. Those green eyes were filled with the same serenity as those of Death. I saw so much of her grace and patience in his eyes as we stood beside each other, and I couldn’t bring myself to look away, to ignore the sheer beauty of him, “the cliff was high above the water, but it was deep enough that we wouldn’t get hurt should we decide to jump. Still, you always offered to jump first, like you were trying to protect me should the water be too shallow at the bottom. I would watch you jump and pierce the surface of the water, but you never came back up for air. I would jump and stay under the water looking for you until-”

He cut me off again, “until you almost drowned,” he finished for me once more.

“Until I almost drowned,” I echoed his words with a nod. He had the same vision more than once, but I wondered if he was on the other side of them, if he was the one that jumped in after me. I wondered if he stayed under until it felt like the water would crush him as he searched for me. I wondered if he still tried to find me even as he ran out of breath, his lungs beginning to sting and beg for air. I wondered if he woke up crying after he failed to reach me, and if he wished for the dream to come around again because maybe-just maybe-he could succeed the next time around, “and I was always willing to stay under if it meant I could find you, this...seemingly imaginary friend from my dreams, the boy without a name...just like me. Together, we were the nameless ones,” I choked on the lump in my throat, thinking of the years that melancholy seemed to follow me. I was happy, though. I lived a life filled with love, but everything I did was tinged with a hint of sadness because there was a part of me that was missing. I took a deep breath, forcing back every tear that could possibly betray me, “all my life, even in my happiest moments, it was like something was missing, and when I first saw you, I knew that it was you. You were the boy from those buried dreams, the ones that I can only recall when we’re together. You were the missing piece of my life, and I wish I could change that. I want nothing more than for us to have no connection at all because you are everything I never wanted.”

“Gods, tell me what you really think,” he snickered, trying to lighten the mood.

I shook my head, “no, you know what I mean, though, right?” I asked, worried that my previous words came across as me trying to intentionally hurt his feelings. He was far from thin-skinned, but words could sting, “you came to Asgard, posing a threat to my people, especially the ones I love so dearly. My life was flipped upside down when you appeared in Asgard. You’ve been in my head for long enough to know that I was on the brink of pulling Loki back, and when that happened, I’d be able to return to Asgard with our daughter. It was a secret to everyone else, but I can’t keep those secrets from you, apparently. Your presence tore apart the dreams I had to piece my family back together, and you threatened the lives of my love and my child. You fight for the wrong side, Ezra, and that pains me to see. If we meet on the battlefield in the upcoming war that will transpire, it will be even more heartbreaking to do what needs to be done because our connection is so strong. I wish that the connection didn’t exist so that I could stand a chance at walking away from this with the pieces of my heart still salvageable.”

A long silence proceeded my words, and I was left wishing that I could sift through his thoughts the way he somehow managed to sift through mine, no matter how many times I sealed the entrance closed. He spoke at length about out connection and how that played a part in how he was able to so easily access my mind to cast the illusion that he stood before me, but I couldn’t do the same to him. He was a powerful sorcerer, and I knew that he tampered with the darker pools of magic-places I refused to touch because of my fear of the corruption my father and Frigga spoke of so vehemently. I wondered if that was how he managed to invade my thoughts so easily. After a long silence, he finally spoke again, his voice rougher than before, filled with fear and pain, “don’t come back to Asgard,” he insisted, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he spoke. It was as if he was trying to distance himself from me, fearing the vulnerability in his own words and the way his voice trembled ever so slightly, betraying him to clue me in on his fear, “what happens here...let it happen. Stay on Midgard and live amongst the humans for the rest of your days. If you come back, I’ll be forced to follow through with my mission, which was to take you back to Cul by any means necessary. I can promise you that you don’t want the life he would give you. You have no reason to trust me, but I ask that you trust those words.”

“I don’t want a life of violence, but if violence is what your father wants-”

He cut me off, “our father,” he corrected me.

The correction was unnecessary to me, but it meant something to him. Cul was the answer to a question I had since before I could even remember, one of the questions I yearned to know the answer to; however, it was a question and answer I wished to forget if the universe would ever offer me any ounce of mercy. All my life I wanted to know where I came from, but when I discovered my true origins, I wanted nothing more than to forget them, fearing that the answers would leave me tainted. Correcting me, though, meant more to Ezra than just a simple stab at my choice of words. Perhaps he was trying to remind me of the darkness that resided within both of us, a darkness that was placed there by Cul. Maybe it was his way of feeling less alone, by consistently reminding me that we were bound together by blood, “if violence is what he wants, he will be met with a war the nine realms has never seen. I’d sooner die than allow my people to live under tyranny, which is exactly what Cul would bring to Asgard.”

He sighed as if he was feeling defeated by my words of anger and frustration, turning to face me. He gestured down to my abdomen, “your body has healed itself of the poison that coursed through you from the wound on your abdomen. You have grown exponentially more powerful since we last met, and Cul knows how to open those doors to use that power to his advantage. You will become his weapon,” he warned, his tone similar to that of Hjalmar’s when we would sit across from the fireplace late at night as he told me scary stories. Whenever Father would catch us, he would scold my older brother before sending us off to bed, but I would sneak into Hjalmar’s room to sleep with him at night, knowing that if the monsters in his stories did come, he would protect me from them. Ezra continued, “if you return to Asgard, I will have no choice but to break out of this cell and return you to him. It will mean even more chaos and death than if you were to stay away. You’d be sacrificing the Asgardians freedom, but if you return, you will be sacrificing their lives.”

I shook my head, growing more and more heated as he tried to turn me away from my home and my people. I didn’t care about the throne or the man who sat upon it. While I swore an oath to protect the throne, my main priority was always to protect my fellow Asgardians. They were the soul of my home with all their flaws and imperfections. I loved them even in their more questionable moments, and even though there were some that I had a deeper connection to than others, I would have laid down my life for every single one of them. Ezra didn’t understand that, thinking that it would be so easy for me to turn my back on the only home I’d ever known, the people who loved me and raised me, and the memories I made there with people who had gone on ahead of me. It wasn’t. I was going to return home no matter how dangerous my home became, “I know my people. They won’t sit idly by and watch as their home is taken over by a force like Cul; they will fight him and die by the hundreds.”

“But you won’t!” he finally snapped, his eyes burning red as they had on the battlefield. Mine had begun doing so more and more since he arrived on Asgard, but I tried to think of them as independent events, not tied to one another. His anger and rage seemed to bleed into me, feeding the monster that was already alive and well inside the deepest depths of my soul. He gave life to the monster Odin believed I was, the abomination I always knew myself to be. His sudden burst of anger, though, died away quickly when he realized what he had said, and it came as a shock to me, too. His eyes became that familiar, brilliant emerald green once more as he turned to face the window, “you could live your life in Midgard with you daughter and the new life that you bear as we speak. You would face no more war and ruin, just a simple, peaceful life.”

“It seems that I have known nothing but war for all my life, so what is another one?” I asked, shrugging my shoulders at the thought of it. While it would pain me to go to war again, especially fearing for the safety of my unborn child, I was willing to do it again, just as I always have been. War was not in my heart, but when violence came to Asgard, when it threatened the greater good or the fabric of life, I was willing to fight until my last breath. There was a glimmer of hope that someday in the near or far future, there would be a way to go about settling the differences; however, for the time being, when war was brought to the lovers of peace, we fought with the hope that each battle would be the last. I gazed out the window, staring out at the cloudy sky, anticipating another storm, “a warrior doesn’t leave the battlefield before the battle has even begun. I am a warrior of Asgard, and I swore an oath to be the shield that protects the nine realms from tyranny, chaos, and ruin. I swore an oath to serve the living, and Cul poses a threat to the very fabric of life. I fear more my inability to protect my people than even the most brutal death,” I ranted, my eyes flickering over to him to see how he was reacting to it. As if he could feel my gaze on him, he turned his head even further to the side, not wanting me to see him. He cleared his throat roughly, and I knew that my words had impacted him somehow. My heart ached, for I yearned to reach out and touch him. Even though we were enemies, destined to be on opposing sides of the battlefield, I was tied to him. The only thing I could do to comfort him was to try to lighten the mood, so I forced a smile, “besides, if I were to die, you may finally have some peace and quiet in your own mind for once.”

When he turned his gaze back over to me, I saw the wetness in his eyes, causing my heart to implode in on itself. Something was eating him away inside, and I wished to know what it was. I wished to fix whatever I had done that caused him so much grief. The tears, while they were present, would not fall, but as he spoke his final words to me, his voice broke under the pressure of the intensity of that sorrow, “I was willing to stay under the water for you, too, you know.”

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the-marvel-imagines-blog · 5 years

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UPDATE!

With the annual pride parade coming up, me playing a metric ton of World of Warcraft Classic, me working on writing an actual novel, and me seeing “It: Chapter 2″ twice already-and will see it a million times over in the coming week (you should 1000000000000% go watch it even if you’re not partial to horror movies), I haven’t had much time to sit and write or even edit much of anything; therefore, my next chapter of Madness won’t be posted until the middle of this upcoming week, meaning there was another two week mini-hiatus. There are pieces of my life where I’m spiraling out of control, and I’m trying to find joy wherever it may be. Writing always gives me little moments of joy, but in doing so, it often isolates me from people I love, my friends, and my family. I’m not taking a break from it, but during the past couple of weeks, I’ve been busying myself with other things in order to pull myself back together. Thank you all so much for your patience, and I look forward to getting that next chapter to you all.

Much love <3

#update #marvel #marvel imaginnes #mcu #mcu imagines #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic

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the-marvel-imagines-blog · 5 years

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Madness | Chpt. 27

Chapter Title: “The Awakening”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character (Eva)

Word Count: 11,111

Warnings: All the angst, arguments, a little surprise

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

Summary: Thor and Eva have conflicting views on how to handle the situation with Aurora, but Eva’s need to protect her daughter gets in the way of her happiness.

A/N: I’m sorry for the short hiatus I went on. I was in Boston for a bit for the Jonas Brothers concert on the 17th, and then life kind of spiraled out of control for me. I went through a fairly short depressive episode, which made it unbelievably difficult to write anything of acceptable quality. Once again, I’m sorry for suddenly disappearing, and I’m hoping to get back to posting once a week. Thank you all so, so, so much for reading <3

He stood behind me in all his godly glory. I didn’t want to look at him. My arms were crossed over my chest as if I was an adolescent in a petty argument with her guardian, but this didn’t feel petty; I was hurt and felt betrayed. Thor knew how important it was that I stay away from Aurora. I made a promise to not even return to Earth unless the situation was dire or her life was in danger. Otherwise, I made an oath not to return for fear that I would see her. It was like a knife straight though my heart the moment our eyes met the previous week when I woke up. I was kept in the room and in the bed by Thor as Tony and Bruce continued to monitor me, making sure that I was in peak condition before they allowed me to leave. For over a week, I was forced to live in the same building as her, and every morning, I’d wake up with a dread unlike any other, terrified that she would come into the room, that she would look at me for a moment too long, and she would figure out the secret I kept from the universe.

Her.

While I was grateful for the gift Thor had given me-another chance at life-I was furious that this was the place he decided to bring me. Instead of forcibly taking me back to Asgard where Frigga would look after me, I was brought to the last place on Earth I wanted to be. I would’ve rather walked straight onto a battlefield alone with no armor and no weapons. It was a better fate than being forced to look upon the face that brought me so much joy and so much sorrow. Seeing her was like looking at the sun, but it only reminded me of how dark it truly was without her. She was the sip of fresh water in the desert that made you forget about the dry, unforgiving air. She was the cool breeze on a sweltering day that made you forget about the moisture on your upper lip whilst working in the garden. I resented the fact that she was a passing dream that would eventually give way to the nightmare. A life without her was darkness, and I wanted my eyes to adjust. However, each time I looked at her, my pupils would constrict to adjust to the light, and I’d forget about the darkness until I was thrown back into it, scrambling to see once more. Seeing her was like a breath of fresh air into lungs that were slowly filling with blood.

I wanted to see her, to hold her, to speak words of unconditional love to her, to tell her stories of her family, to fall asleep with her body curled up next to me, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t want those things. It was dangerous for her to be a part of me, and as the butterflies twisted in my stomach and that familiar stir occured, I frowned. I was a monster, an abomination, a freak of nature. If what I had been told was true, if I truly was the person Death and Ezra claimed I was, I was walking on a fault line, and I would either work to bring about peace, or I would bring about death and destruction. She could be no part of that. She was pure and innocent and far too good for me. I had her love for a time, and in my moments of darkness, I thought of the way her hair smelled after she ran through the forest, and my heart would lighten. I thought of the way she would throw her arms around my waist, crashing into me as every ounce of love poured from her very soul into my own. I thought of how she would kiss my cheek almost every night before she fell asleep.

Thor huffed, our argument clearly only beginning. He was clearly upset that I was so adamant against being here, and I was irritated that he made the call for me to be brought here. My mere presence was liable to damage Aurora’s psyche and cause her to be even more unhappy. At least when I was absent, she lived in a type of blissful ignorance, much like Tony did when he was younger. He didn’t remember me, but when I returned-before I gave him his memories of me back-he would begin to piece together the familiarity we had with one another. I worried that if Aurora found out, if she was able to see through the veil I placed over her memories of me, I wouldn’t be able to walk away again, and that would be dangerous for her, “this was the only way to keep you alive,” he insisted, his voice conveying just how spent he was by my insistence that we never should have come here in the first place.

I glared back at him, “she’s here!” I hissed, unable to bring myself to say her name. It was a dull ache in my heart, a place I so desperately tried to tend to all this time we’ve been apart, but just when I thought I’d be able to breathe without her in my life, I was thrust back into a life with her, which reminded me that breathing without her would never be possible. I was caught between accepting love and putting that love at risk or refusing that love and living in the void of unhappiness for the rest of my existence. I wanted to be happy, and I wanted her to be happy, but I couldn’t have both. I was destined to lose no matter what.

“You’re her mother! You needed to live! I made the right call!” he growled, raising his voice without fear of anyone hearing us. He was growing angrier and angrier by the second, but he underestimated me. I was ready to fight. I was outraged that I was brought to the one place on Earth that I didn’t want to be. I was weak when I was near her, and he brought me straight to her. He made a decision that could cost me more than just my life, it could put her life in jeopardy as well, “if I had been in a similar situation, would you have let me die?” he asked, trying to prove his point.

I shook my head, grimacing as I turned around to catch his burning blue eyes, “that’s not-”

He cut me off, his voice even louder than before, “don’t even tell me it’s any different!” he boomed, catching me off guard. I winced at his words, surprised that he was taking such a dominant tone with me. He never did that before. Thor and I didn’t argue with each other often, and even when we did, it never got this heated; however, when Aurora was involved, he voiced his opinions and didn’t change them. He was intense when he spoke of her, and that was only amplified after I made my decision to give her to Tony. He fought me every step of the way, telling me that he would secure the dungeons even more than they already were, telling me that Loki would have no way of escaping, but he didn’t understand my goal. My goal was never to leave Aurora on Earth forever. I wanted to send her away until I managed to help bring back the Loki I knew and loved, the man who could be a spectacular father. Then, she would be brought back home, and we would be happy together. Instead, my plan-my life-fell apart the longer she was away from me, and Thor spoke of her less and less. When he did utter words about her, they were always ones of love and dedication, though.

“You know how I feel about you, Eva,” he murmured, his voice suddenly becoming sweet and tender as he closed the space between us with a few long strides. His right hand passed over the emptiness between us, and he stroked my cheek with the tips of his fingers. I wanted so desperately to lean into his touch, to lean into any touch. With Aurora so close, I yearned for Loki’s gentle arms to cradle me against him as I told him all the words I failed to convey before. Instead, I remained still, turning my focus to the blade of grass that was still tied to my finger. It was a reminder that things were moving in the direction I always dreamed they would, but it was yet another reminder that I was perhaps the worst thing for him. Thor’s voice disturbed my silent conflict, “you’ve always known how deep my love runs for you-how I still love you after everything. In another life, you would’ve been my princess, my betrothed, my love, but I’ve loved you on my own for a thousand years. I’ve listened to your laughter like it was a song sent by the old Gods, and I have appreciated you as if you were a goddess even before I knew the truth.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, fear overcoming me. He couldn’t know the truth. How could he know the truth? Odin. Why would he tell Thor, though? Of all the people to entrust with information like that, he trusted the man who could never hide anything from me? Did the Allfather want me to know? Did he want this to be information that broke me? Did he want me to give into the darkness that he feared within me? I didn’t know how to respond to Thor’s words, but he didn’t even look fazed by his own words, “my father finally told me of you, and by the way you speak, it’s clear that you know, too...the daughter of Death,” he continued, his voice trailing off, rendering me speechless. I didn’t know how to respond. I had two options: lie to him or stay silent, hence confirming his words. I chose the latter. He nodded his head, “I worshipped the ground you walked upon before I even knew what you were, and you expected me to sit there and accept that you were dead? I’ve lost you before, and I wasn’t about to lose you again,” he choked out, tears forming in his eyes as he recalled the day Aurora was brought into the world, the day I willingly gave my life for hers.

With no desire to speak of my lineage, especially not so openly when no one else was aware, I skirted over his revelation that he was no longer blind to who I was...what I was. Instead, I listened to the way his heart broke just a little more each second our eyes remained connected. Within him, there was a desire to stay on Midgard. I shook my head, sensing the conflict within him, too. He knew that Earth wasn’t the place we belonged. We were meant to help the Asgardians, not live amongst them, for our presence would only bring about more conflict for them. We couldn’t risk our wars straying away from Asgard and relocating to Midgard, “we can’t stay. You know that, right?” I asked, knowing that he was becoming more and more tied to the idea of staying. When it was just Loki and I, before the world knew of our existence, we could’ve made a life on Midgard and flown under the radar. Even after New York, we could find our own little corner of the world to hide. Thor, however, was the prince of Asgard, the heir to the throne. He was well known amongst the Midgardians, too. He couldn’t stay without risking the lives of the humans he wished to protect.

He frowned, stepping away from me, disconnecting his hand from my cheek. His arms crossed over his chest, and I could still feel the heavy conflict. He was looking for any and every reason to stay, and I could tell-even though he wouldn’t tell me his true reasoning-that it was mainly because of Aurora. She played a role in him wanting to remain on Midgard, and I knew that because it was the same desire I struggled with, “it would do you good to continue resting. You know that the moment you return to Asgard, you’ll pick right back up where you left off,” he noted, the argument being a good one. It was true that I wouldn’t take the time to rest when I returned to Midgard, but there were also many reasons for that. I had too much to accomplish, and I also had Harley and Kaia to care for in the meantime. There was a deadline on how soon the situation with Cul needed to be resolved. He shook his head, “I can’t risk that, not so soon after I got you back.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, turning back around to stare out the window, “it’s my decision. We don’t belong here,” I hissed, burying my emotions as my own reflection stared back at me, her green eyes filled with unforgiving judgement.

“Neither does she!” he boomed, his voice becoming even deeper. I loathed the fact that he was questioning my decision when it was the only right one for me to make. I hurt myself enough over the fact that I separated myself from my daughter, I didn’t need him to do the same. He continued as I stared at his reflection in the mirror, “she belongs with you. She belongs with her family. She’s lost everything. She’s lost herself. I would expect this from anyone else, but you know what it’s like to be abandoned,” he hissed, almost as if he was trying to dig a knife into my back.

As soon as he said those words, I saw the reflection of my eyes in the glass that overlooked the darkening city. The green was tainted by the color of a bleeding rose. A deep, velvety red took over the irises of my eyes, pushing aside all the green until it was the only color left. With every second of silence that passed, I felt my blood begin to boil, and the color in my eyes became more and more rich until it was almost glowing. I whipped around to face him, not even trying to fight back the anger that his words brought on. Instead, I fell into it, basking in the heat that rose up in my chest. His eyes widened as I narrowed mine at him in fury, “I never abandoned my daughter. Rethink your words, and speak again!” I demanded-a hefty command given to the prince by a commoner. But...I wasn’t a commoner. I had a claim to a throne I didn’t want, but the power I felt with that knowledge made it even harder to bite my tongue, so I didn’t.

“You left her!” he argued back, his blue irises sparking to life like the lightning that followed him wherever he went. Lightning lived in those veins, and when he was angry, there was a hint of it in his eyes.

“I did what was best for her!” I yelled, not caring who heard me. Even if Aurora heard me, she wouldn’t know I was talking about her. At that point, I didn’t care about the dangers of speaking too loudly or giving way to the rage within me. It was festering, and Thor was pulling it out of me little by little. I closed the space between us, grabbing the collar of his white t-shirt and pulling us closer together. I watched as my veins glowed with the same red that lingered in my irises, but I paid no mind to it. The anger was tearing away my cautious nature, giving way to someone far more feral and fearless. My voice lowered, “do you have any idea how hard that was for me?” I hissed, before witnessing the fear in Thor’s eyes. I had never seen it so prominent before, and he was never afraid of me. I let go of his shirt, the red disappearing from my hands. All it took was that small look of terror, and I realized that I was turning into the monster I couldn’t bear to live with. She was meant to come around when faced Thanos someday, or when I faced Cul. She was destruction incarnate, but that wasn’t who I chose to be. I refused to be the monster Odin believed I would become.

When Thor took a deep breath, I surmised that the green hue in my irises must’ve returned, fighting back the red. It was life and mercy fighting away death and destruction. It pained me to even look at him after what transpired, but our eyes connected as the hot tears filled mine. My voice was low and soft as to maintain control over my emotions and to not lose that control again, “do you have any idea how many nights I sat at the end of that bridge, asking Heimdall to tell me about her? It tore me apart each time, and all I wanted was to bring her home, so I stopped asking about the details. Instead, I just inquired about her health and safety. Do you know how many times I curled up in bed with my pillows and tried to pretend it was her? Do you know why I’ve fought so hard on behalf of your brother? Did you ever even stop to ask me why I did it in the first place?” I asked, trying to urge him to think about how ignorant he was to the situation. He didn’t know all he thought he did.

He shook his head, “no, but I know it’s because you were afraid that Loki would escape and hurt you,” he answered, which was only part of the reasoning.

“Do you know what would’ve hurt me more than anything else?” I asked before falling into a tense silence as he looked for an answer. Sensing that he wouldn’t come up with the right one, I answered my own question for him, “losing my child. I couldn’t be certain that he wasn’t crazed enough to do that if he escaped. I couldn’t risk her life on the chance that he wouldn’t hurt her.”

“I would’ve protected you,” he insisted.

“I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, especially not him!” I snapped, feeling that familiar heat rising up again. It was as if he was trying to misunderstand me. The anger and frustration quickly bled into sorrow, and tears began stinging my eyes, “I didn’t want to give anyone a reason to hurt Loki, and I couldn’t risk her life, either. I thought that if I sent her away, I could focus all my time on reaching out to Loki and helping him return to the man he used to be. Then, once he fled the darkness and returned to the light, I could bring her home. However, there was your father, too. With Loki’s newest crimes, her life would have been in even more danger if he discovered her existence, and I would’ve been forced to commit treason because if he tried to take her from me, there would’ve been a slaughter. It was the only choice I had,” I explained, my voice cracking as my emotions threatened to betray me like they had so often in the past weeks that we had been on Midgard. My emotions were heightened again, “she doesn’t belong anywhere near me, and with Ezra’s presence in Asgard, I don’t want her anywhere near me. I want her to be safe.”

“We could keep her safe,” he yelled in exasperation.

I shook my head, knowing that nothing would sway me into bringing her back to Asgard under the current circumstances, “that’s not good enough for me, though,” I murmured as the door to the room cracked open. Thor took no notice of it, but I watched as Tony entered the room, eyes filled with concern. It was obvious that he heard our argument and was coming to check on us. Thor and I didn’t fight like this...ever, so it was clear in the worry written all over Tony’s face that he was concerned for each of us. In that moment, he looked like a child watching his parents argue, but he had seen far worse.

Thor’s anger boiled up even more, “well, it’s better than casting her away and leaving her here. You’re her mother, and-”

I cut him off in frustration, “and you’re not her father!” I bellowed, the building trembling under the pressure of my voice.

He took a moment to steady himself, clearing the pain from his eyes, and I saw the words flit across the blue surface of the ocean before he even said them. Thor thought about them before he spoke them, which made their impact that much more painful. He narrowed those anger-filled, crystal blue eyes at me, “well, even if I was, it wouldn’t worry me anyway because I wouldn’t know of her,” he remarked, causing Tony to flinch on the other side of the room.

I remained composed, staring him down as the realization of his own words hit him. It was the lowest blow he could deal, and he dealt it. Part of me wished for more of his hurtful words, for I deserved them more than anyone else. Part of me wanted him to hurt me the way I know my lack of romantic affection hurt him. No one else deserved pain and suffering the way I did...not even Thanos himself. I failed the love of my life. If I fought harder, Loki wouldn’t have fallen from the Bifrost in the first place. If I fought harder, he would’ve seen the birth of our daughter, and we could’ve lived a happy life together. instead, everything spiraled out of control, and-like dominoes-each painful, sorrow-filled event followed the last. They were all connected to that one instance when I let Loki walk away from me in the garden before telling him that I was with child. Every moment of pain and suffering my love and our daughter experiences...it was all on me, so I silently wished for that pain to be thrust upon me. I yearned for mercy, but I knew what I deserved.

As Thor’s eyes filled with regret, I turned around to face the window once more, “leave,” I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest as if I could physically fight back the tears that were so close to rising up and spilling down my cheeks.

“Eva, I’m so-”

I cut him off, “I don’t want to talk to you right now, and I’m done listening,” I growled, glaring at his reflection, “and if you ever insinuate that I don’t love my daughter again, you’ll be hard-pressed to make it through your next breath before you feel my wrath,” I threatened him, knowing that I couldn’t truly live up to that threat. I still loved Thor, but sometimes, that was where the most excruciating, intimate pain came from-from the ones we loved most. They were the ones we let close enough, the ones we trusted with daggers deep enough to tear through our hearts, but we trusted that they wouldn’t use them against us. Thor just did, “you’ll never understand what it’s like to willingly give up something you love so deeply for their own benefit.”

“I do...” he sighed, his voice thick with tears, “...because I did that with you.”

Then, there was an empty silence that filled the room. Thor’s footsteps over to the door cut through the deafening nothingness, sounding louder than usual. I continued to stare out the window, though, the clouds merging together to cover the sky in a thick blanket of darkness. The moment I heard the door close behind one of my closest friends, I allowed the tears to cascade down my cheeks. I never meant to hurt him, but my inability to choose him over Loki caused him more pain than anything else. The countless sacrifices he made for me never went unnoticed. My hand flew up to cover my mouth as I physically held in a sob. This wasn’t how it was meant to be. It felt like I was losing him, and it was my fault.

As soon as I began crying, I felt Tony’s presence behind me. My eyes locked with those in his reflection on the glass. I spun around, throwing my arms around his neck. I didn’t wish to speak ill of Thor, but I knew that even if I did, Tony would listen in silence until I cried myself to sleep. I didn’t wish to weep the way I was, but I knew that Tony would hold me through it. His arms wrapped around my waist, and he held me against his chest. I breathed him in, burying my face in his neck as I let my emotions run wild. I knew that Thor was cold because he loved Aurora so deeply. She was the last piece of his brother he had left, and he dumped every ounce of love he had into her. She was a shining star on his darkest night, and I knew that his intentions were good. I knew that all he wanted was to see a happy ending for the people he loved.

Before he could speak a single word, the fluttering in my abdomen returned, but that time around, it was a thousand times stronger than the last. My body jolted, and I tore myself away from Tony’s arms, feeling the sickness rise up within me. It was beginning. It was the awakening. I scrambled into the washroom, taking the time to hurriedly shut the door behind me. My knees connected with the solid marble floor right before I emptied the contents of my stomach into the bowl. I groaned, remembering how much I didn’t miss this part of it. Humans and Asgardians were similar in many aspects, but I always wished that this wasn’t one of them. Still, it was a reminder of what I was fighting for. It was an awakening, and it would be our new beginning.

Between the muffled heaves of my body trying to empty itself of all that I had eaten in the past few hours since I last got sick, I heard the door open, but I didn’t dare pull my head from the toilet bowl for fear that my stomach would betray me yet again. Instead, I left my head buried in the bowl, knowing exactly who entered the bathroom after me. Though I didn’t desire Tony’s company when I was in such a state, the supportive, loving energy that radiated from him made me feel much less alone in what was happening. After another wave of sickness, I pulled my head from the bowl to gasp for air, and Tony was ready with a towel. In an attempt to be close to me-even when the best place to be would’ve been as far away as possible-I watched as he lowered himself onto the floor beside me. I took the grey towel from him with a groan, “I’m sorry,” I apologized, reaching up to flush away the proof of my sickness.

He smirked, clearly slightly amused by the situation. It was in typical Tony fashion to make light of a serious situation. Even as a young boy, he would do the same thing. He once jumped off a swing as a child, and got a nasty cut on his upper arm. Instead of crying, he joked that he’d be able to tell people that he’d gone off to war, and this was one of many battle scars. He specifically asked for me to leave him with it when I insisted I heal him. By that point, though, he knew that it wasn’t so much a healing process as it was a transferral process, and I was aware of why he wanted to keep it. Instead of telling me that he didn’t want me to hurt myself by helping him, he covered up his pain with a joke and moved on. Our eyes connected, and his smile forced one of my own, “you know, it’s actually kind of refreshing to know that even gods and goddesses do this kind of thing, and it’s not just me after a night of bad decisions.”

“Well, I’m not a goddess, and we’re not as different from humans as you think,” I remarked, my stomach continuing to churn. From the look in his eyes, I knew that he was piecing it together, “you don’t have to sit here.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” he nodded, “but you did,” he added, his eyes becoming wet with tears. We tried to move on quickly from what happened with Killian and the Extremis serum. He had been working diligently to find a cure for the serum, so there wasn’t much time to share many words about what transpired or what happened to the two of us. I didn’t want to force the conversation for fear that it would stir up some unpleasant emotions, so all he did after I woke up was sit with me in silence for the entire day. He held my hand and gazed at me like I was the only living thing in the universe. In that moment on the floor of the washroom, though, I saw some of those emotions rising up to greet him, “you were there for me during every dirty, disgusting, painful, and horrifying moment, and you were there for every grand, beautiful, exciting, and joyful one, too. You did it all because you loved me, and the fact that you...died for me tells me that the love never left even for a moment. I love you, too, Eva, and that’s why I’m gonna sit here.”

Tears filled my eyes as he spoke. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if my younger self would’ve believed me if I told her what her future had in store for her. If I had the ability to go back and tell her all that she would experience, all the love she would receive, would she believe me? Would she trust that all the pain would be worth it? Would she still make those painstaking decisions to get to where I was in that very moment? Would she have made different choices that lead her down a less painful path? All I knew was that in that very moment on the floor, I was lucky. The people that I loved were safe for the time being, and I was in the presence of one of the most extraordinary people I’d ever met. As fate would have it, though, another wave of sickness kept me from speaking similar words of love into Tony’s soul as he did mine. I buried my head in the bowl once more and heaved, groaning once the wave passed over me. Pulling my head from the toilet bowl once more, I flushed the contents and moved my hair from my face. Luckily, it remained untouched. As I tried to collect myself, the question Tony asked made me freeze, “how long have you known?”

He knew.

The gentle thrumming of my heart stopped on a dime, and my breath caught in my throat. My eyes locked with his, and I searched them, seeing that there was no ounce of lightheartedness in him. He wasn’t joking with me or even offering up the question as a way to lighten the mood. He was asking me the question in all seriousness. It shouldn’t have surprised me as much as it did, what with Tony and I being as close as we were. We had a spiritual connection to one another, and his ability to read me like an open book was nothing new. Because I wasn’t ready to start speaking of it aloud just yet, my mouth fell open as I searched for any other explanation aside from the truth itself. While Life spoke to me, insisting that I was ready, I was afraid of the end of this road. I had just taken in Harley and Kaia, and Loki had finally asked me to be his. So much was happening, and the end of the road was tainted by what happened with Aurora. Ezra and Cul still posed a massive threat to my home and myself. In turn, they posed a massive threat to my love and my children, both alive and unborn.

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” he asked, nonchalantly. He knew the truth as well as I did, but he was just recently able to piece it together. I had been piecing it together since Life spoke to me, whispering words of loving encouragement right to my soul. The very essence of the universe was on my side, but I was still uncertain. Before I could open my mouth to speak again, a smirk played on Tony’s lips as his eyes scanned my body. There hadn’t been any physical changes yet, but they would start happening soon just like they did before. This time, I was more sensitive to the change within me, though, so I was aware of what was happening as it was happening. Looking for the right words to say in order to deter Tony from the truth that he already knew, he cocked his head to the side, snickering, “don’t try to lie to me, sweetheart, that’s my forte, not yours. Besides, I can see right through you. Just talk to me.”

I nodded my head in response to his first question. It was true. He knew of the awakening that I was ill prepared for, “I felt the change the morning I returned from Asgard. That night, Loki and I-”

He cut me off, holding up a hand as if it could somehow stop my words, “whoa, I already know where babies come from, so you don’t have to overshare,” he teased me, a playful grin forming on his lips. It caused the laughter that bubbled up in my chest and spilled from my lips. I leaned forward and gave him a gentle, playful push as his eyes filled with that sparkle that I missed each time it died away. When he was a child, that little twinkle in his eyes was there almost constantly, but the more of life he witnessed, the more cruelty he saw, the more that spark died away. When he spoke of Aurora, when he looked at me, when I told him about Loki, those little moments brought about that twinkle once more, and it was as if my life fell back into place. He cleared his throat, his eyes still bursting with life at the excitement of another little life that he could shower with love and affection. In the short period of time that he had Aurora, he treated her like the little queen of his existence, and I wondered how beautiful of a father he would be. His voice interrupted my inner thoughts, “besides, to feel that you’re pregnant the morning after...that’s impossible.”

“It should be, but I don’t know how else to explain it,” I remarked, finally able to sit up as my stomach stopped churning. I was nervous to eat anything else, but I was hungry without a single clue of what I wanted. I leaned back against the counter, resting my hand on my abdomen, “it’s like this little spark just ignited that morning, almost like my life essence split in two, and it joined together with Loki’s to create a new one. I don’t know how to put it into words, but I knew almost immediately what had happened,” I explained, the warmth of that moment still spreading through my veins. This familiar journey made it that much harder to stay away from Aurora, but it made me that much more passionate about ending the conflict with Cul and Ezra. I would have my daughter back before I welcomed her sibling into the world.

Tony slid himself across the floor until he sat right in front of me. He grasped my hands in his own, giving them a gentle squeeze, “stay in New York,” he insisted, his eyes filling with a hope that I would be forced to break. I wasn’t meant to stay, not without Loki. I wasn’t meant to be anywhere without him. Sensing the conflict in my eyes, he continued with even more resolve. He could sooner move a mountain with his bear hands before he could sway me in this. I couldn’t stay, but I allowed him to continue, “let me look after you while you go through this process. Thor told me what happened last time. You should be monitored. Give Bruce and I just a little more time to reverse the effects of the extremis...please,” he begged, tears filling his eyes as he spoke. The last time we were split up from each other, I died, and I knew how difficult that was for him to come to terms with. He didn’t want to be away from me again.

“I have matters to tend to in Asgard,” I replied, making my voice as soft and delicate as I possibly could. I knew that my words would break his heart and spirits, so I was gentle with how I spoke them. In my mind, I was looking for any possible way to go about the coming months without hurting anyone. The only way this could work out for everyone involved would be if Ezra and Cul were dealt with, taking them out of the picture completely. Then, there wouldn’t be an outside force threatening my family or myself. After that, Loki and I could escape to Midgard with Harley and Kaia to reunite with our daughter, and we could live peacefully amongst the Midgardians as we continued to build our family. While the odds wouldn’t be in my favor for that outcome, I wanted that fairytale happy ending, and I would make it happen. Even if it didn’t happen for me, I would see to it that it happened for my children and my love. I continued speaking, “Loki missed the birth of our first child. He will not miss the birth of our second one. I don’t care what steps I need to take to get him out of those dungeons, he is my beloved, and he belongs with me. I will tear the palace apart if it means he leaves with me,” I added, the anger boiling up within me. I watched as the veins in my hands began to glow that vibrant red, and the way Tony’s eyes widened let me know that my eyes had also taken on that familiar color. I smirked, feeling the power surging through me, “besides...that castle belonged to my father long before it belonged to Odin.”

*Aurora’s POV*

She didn’t like me.

It was clear in the way she had me shooed away every time I even ventured near her room. She wouldn’t make eye contact with me or speak to me. If Clint was so adamant that there wasn’t a hateful bone in her body, I would have presumed that she hated me; however, the first time I said that, Clint and Natasha both jumped to her defense, telling me that it wasn’t in her nature to harbor hatred for anyone. I trusted that they knew her better than I did, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that she didn’t seem to be as partial to me as everyone else. She was nothing like the stories Tony and Steve told me about. They talked about her all the time, but they never mentioned how closed off and isolated she was. She had been at the tower for nearly three weeks, and she had only spoken a single word to me. She was warm and inviting to everyone else from what I could tell, but it was a different story when I was involved.

Still, I wanted to learn about her. I wanted to know who she was like the others did. There was a reason why she was regarded as the Mother of the Earth or the Mother of Mankind. There was a reason why she was placed on a pedestal by the people of Earth, and I wanted to know what that reason was. I wanted to know about her, every little detail. The moment I first saw her the day we arrived, it was like the world made sense. My world began to burst with color. She was someone I was meant to find, almost as if every question in the universe remained unanswered until the moment we met. Every other moment in my life paled in comparison to that one. She was the very breath in my lungs, the sun that warmed my skin, the answer to every question, the lyrics to every song, the eloquent words on every blank page, the very beat of my-once empty-heart, the life that flowed around me. She was all of it.

I was desperate to get close to her, to hear her voice in every moment of silence, to feel the way the warmth would overcome me the moment she touched me. It felt as if I had been running for as long as I could remember, and she was my finish line. While she didn’t seem too interested in getting to know me, it didn’t stop me from forcing my presence in her life when I could. It took a lot of sneaking, but I was able to work my way past Clint, Natasha, and Steve-the ones who would usually steer me away from Eva’s room-and I’d maneuver my way into the brightened room just long enough to bombard her with questions that went unanswered. Thor and Bruce never tried stopping me, and Tony was too preoccupied with his work to pay much attention to what I was doing. He was attentive, but I could sense that he was drowning. He was overworking himself, and that would soon become a problem, so I made a not to intervene.

With Tony having recently left Eva’s room, though, after her confrontation with Thor, it seemed like the best opportunity to slip in. I felt bad for her after I heard the two Asgardians fighting. I was glad it ended peacefully, though. The last time Asgardians fought amongst themselves on Earth, they laid waste to a huge portion of the city, but I understood that it was also a war that Loki decided to wage against humanity. No one spoke of him much, but when they did, they tried to dance around what happened. I despised him. I couldn’t remember it happening-so much of my life was lost to me-but what I learned was horrific. He nearly killed all the people I held so near and dear to my heart, people I couldn’t imagine a life without. He would’ve murdered them, and that was unforgivable to me. I hoped that whatever Asgardian law they had would be cruel to him after what transpired in New York, but I couldn’t say anything of that nature without the room going completely silent and everyone getting uncomfortable, so I kept it to myself.

Making sure that Natasha, Clint, and Steve were nowhere in close vicinity to Eva’s room, I snuck up to the door and pushed it open, quietly stepping inside. My eyes connected with her immediately. She was standing before the large glass wall, staring out at the darkened sky as the rain continued to pour down. I’d never seen anything like it. It had been cloudy and raining almost constantly after she arrived. Tony told me stories about her, how nature seemed to change around her depending on her mood or physical state. He was poetic when he spoke her name, and I watched as the very heart within him danced to life when he gazed at her. She was beautiful, even in her sorrow, which she seemed to live in. Her emerald green eyes, which mirrored the color of mine, searched the outside world for the answers to questions I did not know. The very soul within me ached when I realized that I was unable to help her, that even should I offer my help to the goddess at the window, she would not speak a word to me.

She didn’t even turn to acknowledge my presence in the room, and I watched as her eyes remained fixed on the thick clouds in the sky. The only piece of acknowledgement I received was the light shift of weight from one foot to the other that she did when her ears perked up. She was aware of my presence, and that was the best I could get from her. I made myself comfortable in the room that smelled like her. The scent was comfortable...almost familiar. She smelled of spring, of freshness. Tony once called her the embodiment of nature and life. She was everything new and everything old. Her soul was that of the world we tread upon and the one that gave life to the universe. The room itself was like walking into a forest, but there was a hint of sweetness, too. It was such a familiar smell, one that was locked in the back of my mind. The flash of a memory raced past me, almost too fast for me to see it. I was running through a meadow with a tree with red and white flowers as the leaves positioned at the center of the clearing. There was a woman too far away to recognize, and the moment I tried to decipher who it was, the memory slipped away from me, almost as if I awoke from a dream and into this new one wherein she existed and stood so close to me.

The mere sight of her filled me with this sense of longing, like she was home for me. I wondered if everyone who met her had the same unexplainable connection. Everyone else in the tower seemed partial to her, even taking into consideration her fight with Thor. He still seemed pained by it, almost like arguing with her brought him physical discomfort. He was lucky that he gave up when he did, though, because I was one booming voice away from walking into the room and fighting on her behalf. Clearly, there wouldn’t have been much I could’ve done as a mere human stepping into the metaphorical ring with two other Asgardians, but his loathful tone stung everyone who was close enough to hear it, which was...everyone. I stayed just close enough to the room to hear her melodic voice bite back at him but far enough away that I couldn’t discern what either of them were saying. If Clint had his way, I would’ve been removed from the building completely, but Steve casually glanced the other way when I snuck closer and closer to her room. That was all I wanted: to be closer.

I closed the space between us, resigning myself to sit on the chair that I made my home while she was still asleep. Countless hours were spent in that chair, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest or the way the light hit her sun-kissed skin. For a week, I found ways to sneak into her room just to be in her presence. It was similar to the warmth of the sun on my skin. I felt rejuvenated. Being close to her was like being...home. I knew so little about her other than what was said about her, but it was like my soul and her soul were forged into one from the very beginning of the universe. I knew that wherever she was...that was where I was meant to be. Pulling my knees up to my chest, resting my feet on the chair, I hugged my legs close, thinking of anything to say this time that would get her to open up. Tony made a remark once that she was old-fashioned, that her and I had that in common. He prided himself on building up a massive library, and he seemed to collect works that were of a more sophisticated taste. He kept a lot of the classics, but he had a soft spot for Shakespeare and Charlotte Brontë. I read constantly, spending most of my time among the books he collected. Hoping that it would be the thing that connected us, I thought of one of my favorite Shakespearean lines, one from Romeo and Juliet, a play that-upon its completion-left me devastated for weeks. Interrupting the silence, I took a deep breath, hoping that this would be the moment she finally let me in, “amen, amen. But come what sorrow can-”

She cut me off, a voice more beautiful than those of a choir of angels speaking directly to me, “it cannot countervail the exchange of joy that one short minue gives me in her sight. Do thou but close our hands with holy words, then love-devouring death do what he dare; it is enough I may but call her mine,” she finished the quote with ease. She was clearly well-versed when it came to Shakespeare, which caught me off guard, but it also gave me hope that this would be the tie that bound us together.

She still didn’t turn to face me, but I couldn’t help the pride that swelled in my chest. I broke through to her, “I didn’t think Asgardians knew Shakespeare,” I remarked, praying that this would be the start to a long, never-ending conversation. For a moment, I dreamed of staying up into the early hours of the morning, talking to her about our favorite books, asking her questions about her home, hearing her answers on that velvety smooth voice, cascading from her lips with the grace of a trained dancer. I dreamed of having her look me in the eyes like she did on the day she first woke up. I dreamed of having her look at me with the same unconditional love she had for the others.

After a moment of prolonged silence, her voice cut through it like a knife through butter, seemingly filling my soul with its majestic beauty, “my love used to quote Shakespeare to me often. He and I would sit beneath the ever-watchful stars above Asgard, and he would whisper my favorite sonnets to me. Shakespeare wrote the words, but my love spoke them directly into my heart,” she mused, a smile overcoming her lips as I watched her reflection intently. Every word, every pause to take a breath, every dip in her voice as she spoke left me entranced by her, but her smile was otherworldly.

I shrugged, hoping that she would say more but understanding that she may have needed a push, “he had good taste. Shakespeare is my favorite,” I explained, opening up to her as I had been doing almost constantly since she arrived. Most of the time, I spoke and she stood there quietly, not saying a single word back to me. The moment I opened up to her again, though, her smile fell, and our eyes locked in the reflection for a moment that passed us by so quickly. She hurriedly looked away, and silence befell us again. It couldn’t be over, not when it just started, “can you tell me about him?” I asked, yearning to get just a little bit more from her. Steve told me once that there were instances where it was better to never get the taste for something at all because then you’d never miss its sweetness. This was one of those circumstances, and I wondered if he was talking about her all along. He seemed to be partial to her in a way that he wasn’t with anyone else. He was just as enthralled by her as everyone else seemed to be, but he looked at her like she was some long lost love.

When the silence quickly became uncomfortable between us, I desperately tried to fix the damage that my previous question had caused, “nevermind, sorry. It’s not my business,” I cleared my throat, glancing around the room as if the blank walls would tell me what to say next, “so, Tony’s still working on the serum to counteract the extremis, and he said it should only take a few more days, so...if you do feel the need to just talk or...whatever, just let me know. I’m usually right in the living room, or I’m down in Tony’s workshop with him. We’d also love to have you for our Friday movie night. Tomorrow, it’s my choice, but if you want to join us, I’ll let you have my pick. It’s the last one before Clint leaves, and I told him he could have my pick, but he doesn’t want it,” I explained, running a hand through my hair that I hadn’t bothered to braid back. It was untameable that morning, so I left it alone, becoming frustrated with it quickly, “we’re still working on catching Steve up on what he’s missed, so I’m a bit clueless. It’s a lot of fun, though. We turn the living room into a fort, and we all sit in our pajamas with some popcorn and cookies that Bruce bakes. They usually come out a little strange, but we grin and bear it because he’s proud of them; though, they’ve gotten better since Natasha started helping. It’s an open invitation. We start at 8:30 because Tony wants me in bed no later than 11, but you don’t have a bedtime, so any time should work for you.”

Nothing.

She didn’t say a single word to me. It was as if my words fell on deaf ears. While it frustrated me, it hurt me more than anything. I felt like a pest, like just a waste of space. What was so wrong with me? What had I done wrong? I didn’t want her to form a bond with me out of pity-something I always suspected of the people at the tower-but I just wanted her to give me a chance to prove myself. The moment the door opened and Natasha appeared in the room, though, was the moment I understood just how unwanted I was by Eva. She turned to the redheaded beauty and smiled, greeting her with a friendly attitude, causing my heavy heart to sink straight into the chair beneath me. My body took over, sensing that my heart no longer knew what was best for it, and in a desperate attempt to save my heart from itself, I ran out of the room with tears in my eyes and a dull ache coursing throughout my entire body. It felt like I was losing something I never had in the first place. Eva wasn’t mine. She was nothing to me, so why did I feel so devastated when she placed herself just out of my reach?

I avoided the arms of Steve and Clint who both tried to catch me as I ran past them. I knew the two men well enough to know that they would plant themselves right outside my door until I caved and let them in or at least talked to them. They worried about me; aside from saving the world, it was what they were best known for. Once I reached my room, I pushed the door open before slamming it behind me, locking it just as quickly. Living with Tony, I knew there was no use locking the doors because Jarvis always kept an eye on me and kept Tony updated on my well-being. When I would get frustrated, I knew that it was easier to just talk to him about what was on my mind. Living with Steve was similar. I knew that a lock wouldn’t keep him from holding me through whatever hell I was experiencing. There was no covering up the fact that the man would’ve busted through the lock in order to get to me, but he gave me my space when I was desiring it. In this situation, I wasn’t so sure how the space would work out. I wanted space, but I didn’t need it. I needed to feel close, but I needed that closeness with Eva. Of all people, my soul chose the one just out of reach.

Leaning my back against the wall beside the door, I slid down it just as quickly as the tears slid down my cheeks. I wiped them away with one hand as my free arm wrapped around my knees, keeping them hugged against my chest. No matter how quickly I wiped the tears away, they were relentless. I bit my bottom lip, holding back a sob that threatened to give away just how devastated I was. Beyond the door, though, I could feel the comforting presence of Steve and Clint. Natasha wouldn’t have been far behind them, and if Bruce and Tony knew what was going on, no one could’ve stopped them from busting down the door as they attempted to comfort me, “talk to me, sweetheart. What’s going on?” Clint asked, his voice slightly muffled by the wall that separated us.

I ran my fingers through my hair, anger boiling up within me at the current situation. I wasn’t angry at Eva, though. I was angry at myself. There was clearly something wrong with me. I gripped the roots of my hair, pulling just enough to allow me the physical pain that acted as a momentary release of the emotional burden I had been carrying around for as long as I could remember, “Eva hates me! She hates me, and I’m a pest!” I yelled, wishing that the constant yearning to be closer to her would just die away. I wished to be able to cut it out because if it were possible, I would’ve done so in a heartbeat, but it was impossible to cut out ones own soul.

“She doesn’t hate you. There’s not a single hateful bone in her body. It’s just...hard for her to let people in,” Clint tried to explain away her behavior. It was clear that she didn’t want me. No one truly did. I was meant to be alone. My parents didn’t want me. Eva didn’t want me. I was sure that if I gave the rest of them a chance, they’d leave me soon enough. I was damaged goods. I had no name, no past, and I wished not to have a future in that moment as well. The thought was fleeting, but it frightened me nonetheless.

I bit my quivering bottom lip, sniffling as I fought back the tears, “she has no problem letting the rest of you in.”

There was a momentary silence, and I heard the nearly silent shift of Steve’s weight from one foot to the other. The two men would do with me exactly as they did with Eva. They would sit outside my door if they couldn’t be in the room with me. I’d found Steve more than once sleeping against the wall right outside her bedroom door on the one night he couldn’t sleep in the chair right beside her bed. That night, the chair was taken up by Eva’s father, Aaldir, who I had met. He looked at me for a long time, almost like he had seen a ghost, his face going pale as his dark brown eyes widened. I could see the universe in them as he looked at me. Once he collected himself, he bowed his head to me before brushing past me to speak in private with Thor. Steve slept right outside Eva’s door that night, and I brought two blankets: one for him and one for myself. I stayed on that floor in that very spot every single night, hoping-wishing that she’d invite me in, hoping that she would open up the door and allow me into a heart I yearned to hold only a piece of. The silence was followed by Steve’s calming voice, “you remind her of someone from her past, someone she loved more than anything else. When she sees you, she remembers all the pain that came with it. She’s been hurt more than most. Life hasn’t been kind to her, Aurora; you should be the first person to understand that.”

There was another near silence, and I listened intently as the two men stepped away from my door. Their soft voices-low enough so I couldn’t make out what they were saying-seeped into the room through the crack at the bottom of the door. Natasha’s voice was amongst the two deeper ones, and I smiled at her dedication to me. They were all family to me, but Natasha understood me in a way that the others couldn’t. It didn’t take long for their voices to fall silent, and a few knocks sounded on my door, “can I come in?” Nat asked in her raspy voice that often sung Russian lullabies to me as I fell asleep. She would stroke my hair back and sing, but they weren’t the songs that were in my heart. Instead, I was left trying to figure out the melodies on my own as her voice lulled me to sleep.

I closed my eyes, focusing on the lock on the door. I imagined it turning. Just as I imagined it, I listened to the metal lock unlatch itself, allowing Natasha access to my room. Over time, I began to discover things about myself, things that I didn’t dare speak of to anyone else, things that I kept hidden away. No one else needed to know about these unimportant occurrences because it would only worry those who worried about me enough for a thousand lifetimes. As soon as the door unlocked, Nat pushed the door open just enough to slip inside before closing it behind her, “hi,” she whispered, her voice like a single ray of light shining through the storm of my darkest thoughts. Without another word said, she leaned back against the wall and slid down to sit right next to me, draping her arm around my shoulders the moment she reached the floor.

I leaned into her warmth. The woman who was seen as an assassin was nothing of the sort in my eyes. She was powerful-a force to be reckoned with-but gentle when the situation called for that. I nestled into her, but I still felt like something was missing. Eva. She was that missing puzzle piece. I didn’t know why the universe brought us together, but it did. She was what I was looking for. She was the person I needed to feel whole. No matter if I ever found my parents or not, she was the one I needed most. It was as unconscious a thought as breathing. We didn’t think of it, we just did it. I didn’t have to think about why I needed her to know that I did, in fact, need her. I buried my face into Nat’s neck as the tears wet her warm skin, “I just want someone to choose me!”

She stroked my hair back, her fingers never once tugging at the wild waves, “we chose you,” she reminded me, her voice thick with unshed tears. She buried her emotions until she was alone. I heard her cry in the room with Eva one day, but when I saw her, she was just as stoic as usual. Those feelings-the heavy ones-weren’t ones she wanted to share.

“No, you guys were stuck with me,” I argued, shaking my head at the notion that anyone, especially people like Tony and Steve could bring themselves to love someone like me. I was unlovable...unwanted.

“Is that what you think this is? That we’re stuck with you?” she asked, as if my question somehow offended her. She wasn’t easily offended, so I knew that the damage my words had done was serious. Still, I was certain that my words were no less than truthful, so I nodded in response. Looking up at her, I saw that tears welled up in her eyes. She tried to blink them back, but in doing so, I watched as they fell. I did that. I caused that. I was the water that found its way into a rock and cracked it open from the inside. I ruined things. I destroyed things. She cleared her throat, collecting herself enough to look back down at me, our eyes meeting with mutual love for one another. She forced a smile, “well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we didn’t choose what happened when we all first met you. We didn’t choose how deeply in love we fell with you. What we did choose, however, was to let you into our little world, and I think I speak for everyone when I say that we never once regretted that. It was the greatest decision of my life to let you into my world, to let you see me for what I am instead of the monster other people see me as. I’m not afraid to tell you that you’re wrong about us being stuck with you. You’re a gift.”

I nodded my head, allowing the tears to overcome me again as I lost myself in her embrace, “why does it hurt so much, then? Why does it feel like this? Why can’t I just accept that she doesn’t care?”

“Because you love so deeply. Those who love the most are also the ones who suffer the most. She’s guarded, but she wasn’t always that way. I’ve heard stories of the girl she used to be before the universe pulled the rug out from under her,” she explained, looking for the right words to help me understand the mysterious Asgardian better; however, it seemed as if she was dancing around a clearer description of events. She was choosing every word meticulously. There was something I wasn’t being told, and I was going to find out what it was, “Eva is the only person I know who loved so deeply it cost her everything...even herself.”

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the-marvel-imagines-blog · 5 years

Text

Madness | Chpt. 26

Chapter Title: “The Greatest Failure”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character (Eva)

Word Count: 12,324

Warnings: Fluffy, Big Brother Hjalmar, angst, fluff, just general feelings

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

Summary: Aurora.

A/N: Thank you all so, so, so much for reading <3

We were nearing her first nameday, but Aurora had already grown significantly. At only a few months old, she was running around as if she were a child, and after almost an entire year, it seemed as if we were preparing to celebrate her 12th nameday instead of her first. While Asgardians had a much different youth than humans, we tended to age much slower; however, our youth passed us by just as quickly until we reached our later “teen” years. Then, the process would slow to a crawl. Everyone who knew of her existence-my father, Hjalmar, Sif, Ephinea, Heimdall, Thor, and Frigga-had all tried to make reason of her strange aging pattern. The accelerated nature of it worried me because I couldn’t bear to outlive her. I refused to live a single day without her. It was a discussion that plagued many of my conversations with Heimdall, who spoke of the possibility that the occurrence could have been linked to the nature of her birth. She had been kissed by death but was given the essence of life, which could have caused her to age abnormally. Still, I couldn’t think of it for too long without the unknown nature of it bringing about sorrow.

I sat beneath the tree of life and death, watching her run through the tall grass of the meadow surrounding it, her raven hair flowing behind her. It was wild and untamed, just as her father’s had once been. She reminded me of him more and more each passing day. Each time she laughed, I could hear him. She looked at me with the same admiration that he once had. She would sit with me beneath the tree and allow me to braid her wild hair back, and all the while, she would sing to me the same beautiful melodies that only Loki and I had known. There was something within her that just knew him, and I loved her all the more for it. She latched onto every single story I told her, and she was never afraid to ask questions about him, her vocabulary being just as colorful and beautiful as his had been.

After a few weeks of me discovering motherhood, Thor and Ephinea sat down to tell me what had transpired with Loki. They told me everything from the devious plotting and the betrayal to the madness that seemed to swallow him. I didn’t believe a single word of it until Thor allowed me to look into his mind and see his last memories of my trickster. The man I saw was nothing like the man I knew. He was crazed-thirsty for power and control. He was desperate, and it pained me to see the man I cared so deeply for in such a light. That wasn’t the Loki I loved for a millenia. The man in Thor’s memory was a stranger, and Aurora would never know of him. Instead, I told her often about her father, the man I fell in love with, the man who whispered words of love and support directly to my soul, the man I knew Loki was.

She was exactly what I imagined. Her fair skin held only the smallest imperfections-a light dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks that matched the pattern of my own. However, while I was often self-conscious because of mine when Loki wasn’t around to silence those insecurities, I saw those same imperfections as some of the most glorious, beautiful pieces of my daughter. They made her all the more beautiful. Her eyes became even more vibrant in the months following her birth. It was like I could see the very essence of life in her eyes. When I looked into them, I saw myself reflected in them, and I felt invincible. I felt like the woman she saw me as. In her eyes, I witnessed a version of myself that I never had before. I was her hero. I was her strong foundation, and she looked at me as if I were the most powerful force in all the universe. She looked at me like I was the most beautiful part of every day, like I was the sun that lit up her world, and I saw her in the same light. We shared the deepest connection possible, and Frigga noted that it was likely due to the gift I had given her.

She was feral, just as I had hoped for. She was a princess by right, but she had a wildness about her. Instead of descending the stairs of our home, she would find herself swinging off the railings and jumping down to the ground floor of the cottage before bursting out the door and running through the woods. She had a wild spirit within her that brought me back to my youth, a wildness that shone in her eyes. She climbed trees and made friends with the animals in the forest. Whenever she called out to Eldfinn, the wolf with eyes that matched the fire in his soul, he came to her. He was a massive beast-much like the ones I often made friends with-and donned a coat that danced with the colors of a fire long dead-blacks and greys-but his eyes were truly captivating with hints of gold, red, and orange mixing together. She called him her “wandering fire” and named him thus.

She wasn’t lacking human contact, but her wild nature came from her constant need to explore. The only restrictions I had for her were that she wasn’t to leave my sight without me, and she wasn’t to leave the forest no matter what. I knew what Odin would do with her if he learned of her existence, so I kept her hidden with me. He would never know of her. He would never know her face or her name because if he did, he would try to take her from me. She would be charged with the crimes of her father, and I would commit the greatest treason. I would spill blood in the throne room, and I didn’t feel guilty saying it. If anyone tried to take her from me, they would be met with fire. She was my secret, a treasure that didn’t belong to anyone, not the world...not even me. She was as free as the wind that blew through her hair. She blossomed like the life around her.

The mornings were met with beautiful songs because of her. Even though I would often find my way outside in the early hours of the morning to sing to the trees, Aurora had woken up every morning before the sun rose over the horizon, and she stood outside, watching the horizon through the trees. The moment before the sun peeked over the horizon, she would begin her sweet call, a melody that awoke the day. It was like she brought about the very dawn itself, singing out the song that the bright star knew, a song she seemed to be born with the knowledge of. In those early hours, when the world was just waking up, life blossomed in her presence. The flowers bloomed, the birds sang their sweetest songs, and the branches of the trees seemed to dance in tandem with her airy melody.

Upon finishing the crown of flowers and leaves I had been constructing for her as I sat beneath the tree her father and I fell in love beneath, I gazed back over at her, watching as the dress Frigga had made for her rippled in the light breeze. She looked like a little princess. She was the girl I used to be. She worried about nothing. She feared nothing except the occasional storm that would leave her crawling into bed with me, nestling her body as close to mine as possible until she fell asleep. She never slept during a thunderstorm unless she was with me, and that had been unchanging all throughout her life. She was the girl I missed, but that girl came to life in her eyes. She looked at me like I was still that girl, like she knew who I was deep down inside, “Aurora!” I called out to her, catching her lighthearted gaze with my own. I gestured her over to me, watching every move she made as she pranced over to sit between my legs, her back facing me. She knew exactly what I was requesting.

Setting the crown of flowers onto the ground beside me, I picked up the brush and raked it through her hair, careful to not hurt her. She was strong but sensitive all at once. She felt the pain, but she rarely voiced her discomfort. I could vividly remember every scrape, scratch, bruise, and cut she received from playing too hard, and she would shrug it off. I knew that they were painful because as I transferred them over to myself, they would sting, and I couldn’t imagine how amplified that was for a child. Gently brushing through her raven black hair, I envisioned my Loki again. This was something we partook in countless times over the millennia we were together. He would sit in front of me, his back facing me, and I would brush his hair and braid it back to give me a better view of that beautiful visage, features Aurora seemed to inherit. She reminded me of the gentleness I saw in Loki, and I found myself shedding tears at the moments of remembrance. She would say something or do something-the light could catch her in just the right way-and it would remind me of her father, a man I still felt inexplicably connected to. It was like the flame in my heart didn’t die out like I thought it would if he made the journey before me, which he did.

Once every tangle was brushed from her hair, I braided two strands from her temples to meet at the back of her head where I tied them together with a blue ribbon that matched Loki’s eyes. Her hair was long, reaching the middle of her back. She liked to keep it long after I told her how fond her father had been of my long hair. He would’ve been so impressed with her, so infatuated with every little thing she did. She would’ve been his light when I was unable to be. Dragging the brush through her hair once more to ensure the tangles were completely gone, mindful of the braids I had already created, her voice emerged from the silence, “do you think that we could perhaps...go into town today?” she asked, her voice just as soft and sweet as she was.

The question pained me each time she asked it, but it wasn’t because it was hard to hear, it was because of how hard my response was to formulate. She wasn’t allowed into the world outside for my fear that people would uncover the secret I had kept hidden away. She was a gift that I desired to share with the world, but it was a gift that could be tainted so quickly if people knew of her origin. It took some time for the Asgardians to see me as more than just another orphan girl. I had to prove myself, and my mistreatment ended in my youth when I began to blossom into a young woman. Loki, however, continued to suffer the mistreatment until people saw how taken we were by each other, which took much longer than I liked. People began to realize how willing I was to argue on his behalf, how offended I became when they spoke ill of him or toward him, how angry I was when they even looked at him the wrong way. They saw how deeply I loved him, and in time, their opinion of him changed. He was no longer cast aside as much, and the people began to love him when they saw how much he loved me.

Even though the people of Asgard came around, I saw how their actions and words had affected him in the centuries that followed. He didn’t feel worthy of anything he deemed to be good, and I was at the center of it. He looked at me as if I was an unattainable gift even when I promised my heart and soul to him. The words of others had torn him apart, and I was left picking up those pieces, trying to rebuild the boy I once knew, a boy who loved freely, a boy who sang to the trees with me, a boy who kissed me and didn’t feel ashamed of the blush that overcame his cheeks and nose, a boy who drowned out the world that said we weren’t meant for each other. He was a boy who knew his worth, but as we grew, he questioned it because of the years of being mistreated. I wouldn’t allow our daughter to experience the same thing. I wouldn’t allow them to prosecute her because of her father’s actions. I wouldn’t force upon her the pain of feeling unwanted, unloved, or unappreciated when her reality was so different in those woods. I stroked her hair back with my hand as she turned to face me, “oh, my sweet little wolf, you know you mustn’t explore the world outside this forest,” I murmured, pulling her closer to me.

“But why mustn’t I?” she asked that similar question. It was the one that always followed my insistence that she couldn’t travel into town with me. She often asked Hjalmar and my father, but they gave her the same answer, knowing that it was for the best that she remain a secret. Her big green eyes cut through me and shattered my heart, “Hjalmar and Grandfather get to explore all the time! You go out into the world all the time! Why is it that I’m kept hidden away in the forest? Why can’t I see the world as you do? Why am I not allowed to do as you do?”

I pressed a kiss to her forehead before nuzzling my face against hers, “you have no idea how badly I wish for you to be able to explore as much as you desire, Aurora. I want you to be as free as anyone else, but the world outside these woods can be cold and harsh. The people of Asgard won’t understand you,” I explained once more, sounding too much like my father.

“But they’ll never understand me if I’m locked away,” she replied, her voice filled with so much sorrow. Those words. I knew those words. I spoke those words as a child. I could vividly remember my burning desire to explore the villages outside the forest. I wanted to know what the world had in store for me, but my father kept me hidden away like I had done to Aurora. I remembered how devastating it was each time he would deny my request to venture too far from the house, how disheartened I would become when he would deny my request to go into town with him and Hjalmar. I had been kept a secret once, too, so the pain that came with it wasn’t lost on me. I knew what she was feeling because I felt it myself at one point. I had hoped for so long that I’d be able to give my child a different life, a life without constraints. She shouldn’t have to understand the injustices of the world, but she was forced to.

I sighed, swallowing back the lump in my throat. I had to remain strong for her sake, “the forest and our home is the safest place for you, little one. I know that it’s unfair. I want you to explore more than my own desire to explore the universe itself, but it’s just not the right time for such things. Perhaps when you’re older, we can discuss it again,” I spoke the harsh words as gently as possible, holding her close to me as I felt the very heart within her breaking at the unfair truth. Odin was the one I was truly afraid of. He was the one who could tear my life apart. It didn’t sit well with me that Loki and I had a beautiful relationship up until the point that he spoke to his father, so whatever that conversation had been about, I blamed Odin for the fate of our relationship. I also blamed myself. Perhaps if I had told Loki that I was pregnant before he left to speak with his father, which was something I was on the brink of telling him before he left, he would be here to witness his daughter’s beauty, grace, and wild nature.

Hjalmar’s unannounced presence beside me startled me, but he didn’t catch me completely off guard as Aurora’s eyes locked on him before he spoke in my defense, “the outside world is a big place with small people who don’t know how to treat those who aren’t...dull like them!” he noted, a grin playing on his lips that seemed to bleed onto Aurora’s. They were close. They were just as inseparable as Hjalmar and I had been as children and harbored a love for one another that was only strengthened by their protective instincts over each other. When Hjalmar readied himself to ride out into battle, she would fight him to stay, shedding tears as she begged him not to leave. I saw myself in her. His words in that moment, however, shocked me, and my jaw hung slack as I processed what he said. My eyes locked with his blue ones, and he shrugged his shoulders, feeling my playful judgement, “what? I speak the truth!” he defended himself, raising his hands to surrender.

I snickered before turning my gaze back to the emerald eyes that matched mine, ones I regarded as far more beautiful than any sight I’d ever had the honor of gazing upon, “Asgard can be a dangerous place for people who go against the grain. You didn’t choose your name or who you were born to, but people can hold prejudices against others for who their parents are,” I murmured, knowing those injustices firsthand. It was a difficult concept to grasp, one I still couldn’t understand. Too many nights, I’d lay awake and wish for the ability to create a world just for her, but wishing never brought me anything in life. I would have to change the world for her, and I was prepared to do so.

Her voice pulled me from my feelings of guilt, “but I want to be like you! I want to be like father!” she insisted, her voice cracking as it often had when she brought him up. We spoke of him, and I knew that she had an innate love for a man she never even met. She loved him so deeply and so freely that his loss hurt her just as much as it hurt me, a woman who was in love with him for a millennia. Hearing her speak of him, hearing how eager she was to be like us, brought tears to my eyes, “I would never do anything to taint our family name, and if the Asgardians hold prejudices against me for who my family is, it will be clear to me that they don’t know you well enough. I just want to be someone who would make you proud, someone my father would be proud of,” she sniffled, a few stray tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Oh, Aurora,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her close. Hjalmar lowered himself onto the ground beside me as I held her to my chest. I fought back the tears, finding my strength in my brother just as I had for so long, “I am so proud of the little woman you’ve become. I am so proud of the woman you will become. I’ve loved you since before you were born, since before you were even conceived. Your father and I spoke of our future children all the time, and you’re exactly what we always dreamed of. If he could see you right now-” my voice cracked as the tears stung my eyes. My bottom lip quivered as I thought of the future we had planned, a future I was living without him. I pulled away just enough to tilt her head up to look at me, “if he could see you right now...he would be so proud,” I murmured, pressing my lips to her forehead as her bottom lip continued to tremble. It broke my heart that she was hurting. If I could take that pain away, I would have done so in a heartbeat. I would take on every ounce of heartbreak if it meant she experienced none of it. That was the truth, though. Loki would have been enthralled by her. I thought I knew what love was with just him. He showed me a romantic love that I was still learning to live without, and I never imagined I could love another living thing more than him, but she came along and opened a new window into my soul. She was everything, and he would’ve loved her more than he ever could’ve loved me. She would’ve been our pride and joy, but I was forced to value such a beauty all on my own.

“Your father was one of my closest friends growing up, and I can tell you something right now, princess, he would have been your best friend, too,” Hjalmar grinned, trying to lighten the mood, “he used to create these illusions and place them around the cottage in order to scare me. He even shapeshifted into grandfather at one point to find a way to get your mother out of the house. Your father was a ball of mischief, but he was one of the kindest men I knew, and I know how proud he would be to have a daughter like you. Wherever he is, his heart is full because of your mere existence,” he continued, tears appearing even in those blue eyes that had been so strong through all of this. Hjalmar mourned Loki just as my father did, but there was a special connection the two of them share. I could still vividly remember Hjalmar’s threat to Loki that should my love hurt me, he’d be dead by dawn. If Loki had been anyone else, Hjalmar would’ve kept his promise, and I had no doubt in my mind, but when I came home crying that day, Hjalmar held me all through the night and shed tears with me.

I pressed one more kiss into her hair before placing the crown of flowers and leaves upon her head. It was so similar to the one Loki and I used to make for each other. He would spend hours putting together the perfect crown, telling me that it must be suited for the queen of the forest. He placed so much love and admiration upon me. Every moment we were together, he looked at me as so much more than just an orphaned girl with no name, no home, no claims. He called me a princess, a goddess, a queen, and he treated me like a woman with such power that even I doubted. I didn’t see myself the way he saw me, and he never saw himself through my eyes, either. I always believed it was because love blinded us, but he was aware of my flaws, too, just as I was with his. He was too cold sometimes, and when he was angry, he would become much more calculating. He would bottle up his frustrations until he began bursting at the seams, and there were moments when it lead to arguments between the two of us. He had flaws-just as we all did-but they were met with such beautiful, perfect parts of him. He could be cold and calculating in his frustration and anger, but the rest of the time, he was sweet and warm. He could bottle up his frustrations until they burst out of him, but he knew how to apologize, and he always meant it.

The crown I made for Aurora was fitting for a princess, which she was by right. She had a claim to the throne, but it would’ve been passed along to Thor at some point, and should he have children, they would be his successor. Still, she was a princess. As she stood up and took off toward the woods, calling out for Eldfinn, Hjalmar and I continued to sit by the tree in silent remembrance of the pieces of our hearts that had been lost in Loki’s absence. We both watched as the massive wolf emerged from the tree line, his grey and black coat shimmering in the sunlight. He made his way over to Aurora, and she pressed her forehead against his, running a hand through his fur. He stood just as tall as she was, just a bit smaller than some of our horses, but she was never afraid of him. The were close friends, much like the wolves I surrounded myself with growing up. They never caused me any harm, and Eldfinn wouldn’t hurt Aurora. The animals of the forest understood me, and they understood the boundaries of their wild nature. My family wasn’t their prey, and neither was I. They were peaceful to us, and with time, they became our protectors.

“You two are so similar,” he mused, catching my gaze. He watched her play with Eldfinn, and I watched as his eyes sparkled with memories that seemed so long ago. His words were a compliment for me. She was the most precious thing in my life, and for him to compare her to me brought me so much pride, “every time I look at her, I see you. It’s not just because she has your eyes, either. It’s because she has your heart,” he added, his blue eyes finally meeting mine. It was the similar clash of when the land finally met the sea. There was a gold ring around his pupils that bled out into the blue of his irises that matched the shores of Midgard, so his eyes looked eerily similar to the beaches Loki and I would frequent. Hjalmar had occasionally accompanied the two of us, but it often took much convincing, since he didn’t want to intrude on my time with Loki.

The smile that pulled at his full lips was contagious, and I found myself grinning up at him, “I look at her, and I feel like I’m a boy again, watching you run through this same meadow, playing with the wolves you named against Father’s wishes. It’s as if I’m reliving my most precious memories. She looks at me the way you do, too, like I’m somehow I man worthy of the world even after all the mistakes I’ve made, after all the lives I’ve taken in battle. You two look at me with a love I’ve never deserved but one I could never turn away no matter how guilty I feel accepting it. She reminds me of the girl that never died within you. That girl, the one who’s still curious, the one who still wishes to explore, the one who is capable of bringing about change, she’s still there within you. She never died. She never even retired or cast herself into the deep recesses of your heart. She’s always been at the surface, and I see her from time to time. I see her when you smile, when you laugh, when you admire the branches of the trees because they look like arms reaching out to hold each other, when you tease me for being clumsier than just about any other Asgardian, and when I watch you love. I still know that girl so well,” he smiled, leaning over to bump me with his shoulder.

“And what of the boy within you?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.

He snickered, “he’s still alive and well. That’s why you and I are still best friends. You keep him alive,” he confessed, his eyes dancing with words that remained unspoken. Hjalmar and I had always been closer than anyone else. My father and brother were the first men I loved in my life, and they both taught me what love should be like. Love wasn’t painful, and love didn’t break your heart. Love was gentle, peaceful, and kind. They were the ones who taught me that, and then, they hoped that I would carry that knowledge and that ability to love out into the world with me. I did. That was how I met Loki, and that was how our love spanned over a millennia; it was all because of the love my family instilled in me. Hjalmar’s sparkling, world-brightening smile bled over to me once more, “and the only reason why she’s my favorite person is because she’s the product of the two people I’ve loved the most in my life: you and Loki.”

I could sense the bittersweetness in his voice, so I reached out and grasped his hand in mine, intertwining our fingers. It seemed as if my hands were lost in his. He had the strong hands of a warrior, and while mine had seen just as much time on the battlefield, my fingers were slender-those of a lover, not a fighter. It seemed as though we both contradicted our own hands. Mine saw far more war, and his saw far more peace. I forced myself into his spot on the battlefield, afraid that he would be taken from me too soon. I would force Odin’s hand on many occasions, telling him that he could have only one of us, that it wasn’t fair for our father to send away both of his children. Many times, the Allfather bent to my will, but many times, he sent both of us, and there had been the rare circumstances that he sent Hjalmar instead of me. Still, I became one of Asgards most proficient warriors to keep the ones that I loved safe, to keep them out of harm's way. Hjalmar’s hands were built for war, but I refused to lose him to it, so instead, my hands lost themselves in his, “I have faith that the man who broke my heart wasn’t the one who filled it with love for a millennia. I think he still harbored so much love for us, and I know it’s no consolation, but...you were one of his favorite people, too,” I promised, recalling the countless times that Loki looked forward to seeing my family, to being around us as we sat in front of the fire, to speaking with Hjalmar about the things they had in common. Loki had just as much love for my father and brother as he did for me, but it was because they treated him as one of our own.

Hjalmar’s eyes filled with tears that he rarely let fall. It was the closest he came to crying most of the time, “I was supposed to go before him. That was my plan. My biggest fear in life has always been losing more people I love. I still have a vague memory of the last time I saw my parents,” his voice trailed off as the memories he only spoke of twice crossed over his eyes. His father had perished in battle, and his mother took her own life in the night after she put Hjalmar to bed. The sight was one he witnessed the next morning. He hadn’t even reached his third name day at the time, so the scene was both confusing and traumatizing. He didn’t have a good relationship with death, though, but his words were shocking to me. He continued, “I never wanted to lose someone I was so close to again. I loved my parents, but as I grew up, there were other people in my life who I loved just as much if not even more. Father was one of those people, and when I first met you, I loved you from the moment you looked at me. Then, there was Loki and Thor. There was Ephinea and Sif. There have been others who have fallen on the battlefield along the way, but I wasn’t as close to them as I am with the small group I’ve kept close in my heart, so my plan was always to go before any of you. I couldn’t face that pain again, but here we are,” he murmured, gesturing to the meadow that knew our presence, the one that felt Loki’s absence.

His words broke my heart, “you are still here for a reason, brother,” I spoke, reaching up to stroke my fingers through his full beard, “you are here because fate wouldn’t allow me to lose everyone all at once. I love you, and if I had to lose you after already losing Loki...if I had to lose you ever, I don’t know what I would do. I’d be lost,” my voice cracked at the mere thought of having to face my life without my best friend.

“You’d be strong,” he insisted, nothing but admiration in his eyes, “but you don’t get to die before me,” he teased, a grin overcoming his lips as he tried to lighten the mood as always.

I smiled up at him, giving his hand a light squeeze, “I suppose we’ll both be forced to live forever, then, because you don’t get to die before me, either. I won’t let you,” I replied, almost as if I was challenging him. Then, there was that alarm that carried from the Bifrost all the way to the middle of the forest where I sat. It was one I only heard a small handful of times. I had charged Heimdall to watch over my Midgardians, and when they were in danger, he would make the alarm. This was it. Before Hjalmar could stop me, I scrambled up to my feet and sprinted in the direction of the cottage, “look after her!” I yelled back to him, my words seeming to echo through the meador. The branches of the trees made way for me as the fearful tears stung my eyes. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, so there was no way Hjalmar would’ve been able to catch up. By the time I had reached the cottage, passing by my father in the stables, my sword and shield were waiting for me by the door. With one quick glance, I knew it was my father’s doing. All I had left was to dress myself in the armor that was crafted specifically for me.

When I entered my room, my armor was already laid out on my bed, almost as if he knew that I would be leaving as soon as he heard the alarm. It took me almost no time at all to reach the cottage, so I knew he must’ve worked quickly. I pulled on the armor, strapping it securely to my body. It was similar to Sif’s, but mine was a bit lighter to allow for quicker movement. I tied my hair back and gave a quick glance at myself in the mirror before exiting my room and holding my hand out for Soulkeeper. Within seconds, the sword moved itself through the air, the hilt of it landing securely in my palm. I strapped the sword to my back along with the intricately designed shield and hurried out of the cottage. In the distance, I saw Aurora running toward the cottage with Hjalmar close behind her and Eldfinn even closer behind him. Hjalmar continued to call out for her, but she ignored every desperate plea for her to stop.

Knowing that they would arrive before I left, I turned my attention to the stables right as my father emerged with a rope in his hands, leading Aria from the stable. I didn’t like riding her with reins, and it was perfectly safe for me. It felt constricting to put such a wild beast in captivity. She stayed with us on her own terms. She was never locked away in the stables, and if she desired to leave, she did. She had often disappeared in the night and had returned in the early hours of the morning. She was still just as wild as the day I found her, but she always found her way back to me. I could bring myself to restrict her all the time. When she saw me, those deep black eyes seemed to glimmer, and she broke away from my father, trotting over to me. She used her nose to nudge me toward her as if she was pulling me in for an embrace. I stroked a hand over her coat before breaking away when I heard Aurora approach, “where are you going?” she asked, her green eyes boring into my own.

“I’m going to Midgard. Heimdall made the alarm that there is a need for me there,” I answered, having no other details to give her. Even if I did, I wasn’t sure if I could.

Hjalmar finally stopped once he reached us, and he heaved, trying to catch his breath, “I tried to stop her, but...she’s fast,” he noted.

“I don’t want you to go,” Aurora interjected, her voice small and filled with fear. When I met her eyes again, I saw the unshed tears in them. She was terrified of me leaving her, and I knew that feeling. Whenever my father rode off into battle, I would beg him to stay. I would beg and plead with him to take me with him, showing him that I could potentially hold my own on the battlefield even when I was still just a child. No matter how much I tried to convince him, though, he always left, telling me that one day, I would understand. This was the day. My heart broke as I thought of having to break the heart of a princess. She continued, “please, don’t leave me!”

“I won’t be gone long,” I promised her, unsure of whether or not I’d be able to keep that promise. There was always a level of risk that was involved in my trips to Midgard. Oftentimes, I was going there in dangerous circumstances, so I was sure this would be no different. Still, I would fight death all the way. I pulled her close to me, holding her as tightly as I could without breaking her, “I’ll be back before you know it, and I miss you already, little wolf,” I smiled, pulling away from her and pressing a kiss to her forehead. She couldn’t see me cry before I left. It would only serve to worry her more.

“I love you, mother,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around me and holding me as tightly as possible.

I smiled, reminding myself of how lucky I was to have this type of love even if it was just for a while, “I love you, little wolf,” I replied, repeating the same words my father had all my life. I was his little wolf, and she was mine. I gave a short glance at both Hjalmar and my father, the latter giving me the nod of approval that I needed to leave her with them. He had made countless promises to keep her safe and raise her with love should anything happen to me, but I just needed to know that I was making the right decision. The simple gesture was more than enough for me. When I pulled away from her, she scurried over to Hjalmar who scooped her up into his arms.

I pulled myself up onto Aria’s back, straddling her body with my legs and finding that familiar, perfect balance. My eyes locked with Hjalmar’s once more, “remember, Eva, I’m first,” he reminded me with a contagious smile before waving me away, knowing that I was needed elsewhere. I clutched the familiar section of Aria’s mane before riding off through the forest along the path we always took. I was unable to look back at my family for fear that my love for them would stop me from leaving, for fear that her loving eyes would keep me from fulfilling my destiny, which had always been to protect the ones I loved so deeply. Instead, I poured every insecurity, every ounce of fear into Aria, and she pushed herself faster and faster with every passing second. She knew how fearful I was, and she wanted me to have answers to the questions that threatened to burn through me. I was always at a breaking point, and she felt that within me. If I wasn’t fearful of taking her to Earth with me, she would’ve accompanied me. However, I already had more than enough unwanted attention as it was, and she would only pull more of it.

When we arrived just outside the Bifrost, she knelt to grant me an easy departure from her back, the magnificent beast standing taller than even Hjalmar, who was massive. She was huge, but she was graceful. Once I retreated from her back, I gestured for her to run back home where she would either return to the stables or wander through the forest until I was close to returning home. Father claimed that she seemed to know when I would be returning, as he wouldn’t even have to announce that I was coming back. Instead, she would leave the comfort of the stables and return with me. She took off back toward the forest, and I turned on my heel to enter Heimdall’s observatory that had been rebuilt in the time between Loki’s fall and this moment. Entering it, I saw the man I often watched the stars with, but he looked like he had seen a ghost, “what happened?”

He swallowed hard, fear and disbelief clouding his amber eyes, “it’s Loki.”

The ride back to the cottage from the palace felt both excruciatingly long and far too short all at once. Thor insisted on accompanying me back to my home, especially after the trauma we both experienced on Midgard. We thought Loki to be dead, and the man I saw, the man I looked upon...wasn’t the man I fell in love with. He was different. He was overcome with madness. I declined Thor’s invitation to see me back to the cottage, knowing that I needed time to think. The ride back would help me sort through the various emotions I didn’t have time for on Midgard. My emotions had run rampant from the moment Heimdall told me of Loki’s presence on Midgard to being betrayed by him in New York to escorting him back to the palace and didn’t stop even in that very moment. Leaving him at the palace was both the most difficult thing I had to do and the easiest thing I could think of doing. Seeing him hurt me in ways I couldn’t think of.

He wasn’t Loki anymore.

His presence on Asgard threatened everything I had built in his absence. I had a daughter, a life that I was meant to protect from every horror in this world. Her safety was of utmost importance to me, but what if...being with me was the most dangerous place for her to be. Loki’s mood had shifted multiple times from the time we met on Midgard to the moment I left him in the palace. In New York, he nearly killed me, but his words of love and guilt kept me from giving in completely. Then, when we finally brought him back to Asgard, he was screaming at me, telling me that it was my fault that he was in chains. If I hadn’t interferred, he wouldn’t be Asgard’s newest prisoner. Instead, he’d be a King on Midgard. He threatened me that should he ever escape, I would be the first one he would pay a visit to, implying that he would finish what he started on Midgard. He threatened to end my life, and should he truly wish to hurt me the way he did in New York, Aurora would be the first person he went after.

Aria felt my need to grapple with my thoughts, so she slowed to a swaying walk once we entered the forest. I didn’t want the people of Asgard to watch me struggle with my emotions. The people knew me as a strong leader, someone who lead many of Asgard’s battles. I wasn’t supposed to fall apart. This wasn’t the person they knew. Aria, with her keen ability to sense everything about me, all of my doubts and fears and concerns, gave me the time I needed to understand my own mind. Loki was a danger, and I saw that firsthand in New York. If it wasn’t for Tony, the city would’ve been decimated, including all of us, and that was because of what Loki had brought upon. He brought the Chitauri to New York with the hopes of laying waste and taking control of the planet we had both loved so dearly at one point. He proved himself to be dangerous, and that was especially true when it came to me.

He was my weakness, and the other Midgardians could see it. It was no surprise to Steve, since he knew the history I had with Loki, but no one else was aware. They saw the difference between when I was fighting the Chitauri and when I was with Loki. I was a warrior, but I became nothing more than putty in his hands. Should he escape from the dungeons, which was a very real possibility, I would be his first target, of that I was sure. Should he find me, what would stop him from hurting the rest of my family? What would stop him from killing my father and brother? Would I be able to stop him? Would I be able to fight him...kill him? I was uncertain of the answers, which only made me more fearful. What would I do with Aurora? Would I run away with her to Midgard? What if he found me there? What if he hunted me down and hurt her in an attempt to bring about the most pain imaginable for me?

The questions flooded my mind until Aria and I made came into view of the cottage. The moment I saw it, the moment the tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I cried the whole way back from Midgard. As Thor and I trailed behind Loki and the guards that met us at Heimdall’s observatory, I allowed the tears to fall. I wouldn’t let Loki see me cry, though. I refused to let him watch me as I cried because he didn’t deserve to win like that, not after all he had done. He wanted to hurt me. Every word was dripping with hatred, a burning anger that left cuts on my very soul. Asgard wasn’t my home anymore, or at least it didn’t feel like it. Loki’s fall took my happiness, but I found it again in Aurora. I found a purpose in her, but having Loki back in the state he was in made me fear everything that I’d never been fearful of. I was afraid of falling asleep because I didn’t know if he would find a way out of his cell and kill me or hurt my family. I was afraid of raising our daughter because I didn’t know if she would be taken from me at any second.

Loki took away my security.

The sky was nearly black as I rode toward the cottage, Aria continuing to walk as slowly as she could. I could see that my father was busying himself tending to the garden, the torch still lit. It would be lit until I made my presence known at the house. It had been lit since the day Loki fell. He would light the torch and leave it lit throughout the night as a sign that our home-like our hearts-was still awaiting his return. It was our way of paying homage to him. It symbolized that our home would never be complete without him. He was still in our hearts, and I still couldn’t bring myself to cast him out even after everything on Midgard. I smiled lightly at the sentiment. Hjalmar stood beside one of the trees that lined the path, staring up at the branches. When my eyes followed his, I saw her up amongst the branches. She stared down at him, and I found that I was finally within earshot. Hjalmar’s voice was stern as he spoke to her, “it’s getting ready to storm, Aurora!” he called up to her.

Loki and I used to climb the trees in the forest when we were younger, and we’d often do so as children, watching as my father returned from battle. Hjalmar liked to stay grounded, so he would call up to us with worried voices, telling us that Father didn’t want us up in the trees for too long. He would often tell us that we could get hurt should we fall, but we didn’t. The secret to not getting hurt while falling was to not fall in the first place. In that moment, I wished someone had told me that before I fell for the God of Mischief. Aurora’s voice rang out, pulling me from my sorrow and adding that bittersweetness into my heart, “I’m not coming down until she gets back or until you send me with her,” she argued as I finally got close enough to see the frown that looked so unnatural on her lips. Aria stepped on a twig, pulling her attention, and I watched as the frown turned into a wide grin, “mother!” she beamed, hurriedly scrambling out of the tree, jumping down when she was still a bit too high up, causing Hjalmar to lunge for her and catch her in his arms. She pushed herself away from him, running over to me, that smile filling my heart with joy that had been pushed so far away in New York.

I slid off Aria’s back, and ran a hand through her mane before she ran off into the woods to take some time to be alone. Without a single word, I bent down and lifted Aurora into my arms, holding her close to me. Even though she had grown exponentially since her birth, she was still my baby. I held her tightly against my chest, wishing that things were different, wishing that our lives had been different. She deserved the world, and I couldn’t give that to her. I was failing her. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and every catastrophe, every life that was lost, every heartache I experienced on Midgard just fell to the wayside. All that I could feel in that moment was the sheer amount of unconditional love she harbored for me. She didn’t know the woman who failed the children in the orphanage. She didn’t know the woman who had nearly been killed because she couldn’t bring herself to fight the man she loved. She didn’t know the woman with the weaknesses. She knew me as her mother, and I felt that love so profoundly in that moment.

Casting a stray gaze at Hjalmar, I brushed past him and walked toward the house as the thunder began to roll in. It wasn’t Thor’s doing. It seemed as if the world could feel my heartache, the conflict within me. She wanted to grieve with me, and the thunder symbolized her cries. The droplets of rain that began falling, catching themselves in Aurora’s hair, were her tears. She felt this with me. I carried Aurora into the cottage, Hjalmar and our father following close behind. I didn’t speak a single word as we entered the cottage, the only noise from the creaky front door opening in front of me and closing behind Father. I sighed as I sat on the chair in front of the fireplace, listening to the rain begin to fall on the leaves outside. Hjalmar and Father sat in the other chairs opposite me as Aurora situated herself on my lap, keeping her arms wrapped around my body, “why are you sad?” she asked such a simple question, but it seemed so profound in that moment.

I didn’t know how to answer her question. I couldn’t tell her the truth. I couldn’t explain to her that the man I believed to be dead all this time-her father-was alive and just laid waste to a city. I couldn’t explain to her that her father was no longer the man I knew, was no longer the man I fell in love with or the man she envisioned him to be. She had the most beautiful words to speak about him. If I told her of the horrible crimes he committed, he would’ve turned from a dream into a nightmare. It would have been worse than mourning him, which was something we had done together. I had to both mourn the man Loki once was and experience the pain and fear of the man who had the same face and voice, the same pained look in his eyes, but he was cruel, which was something my love was not. I couldn’t tell her of what happened on Midgard, so I settled for a vague answer, “I saw someone I didn’t think I’d see again,” I replied, catching the eyes of my father and Hjalmar, which filled with confusion.

Before I could respond to their looks of confusion with a cryptic answer, Aurora piped up again, “who?” she asked, pulling back just far enough to catch my gaze with her own. She looked so concerned, so protective. It was similar to how I had looked at my father when I was a child. I had always been willing to take on the world if it meant that he was safe. I could still recall the countless times I readied my childhood horse, ready to escape in the night to ride into battle for him. I would pack up my sword and shield that I could barely hold upright at the time, and I would pack a few days rations into the saddle bag. He would almost always catch me right before I rode off, though, and if he didn’t, he caught me on the path leading away from the house. Each time, though, I would see my protective gaze mirrored back at me in his dark brown eyes, and I saw the same look in that moment with Aurora, “Grandfather says that he’ll show me how to wield a sword tomorrow, so I’ll be able to protect you from them,” she promised, looking proud.

I cast a concerned glance over at my father, surprised that he would allow her to wield a sword at such a young age. It took some time before he allowed me to wield a sword, but I also knew how persistent she could be. He shrugged his shoulders, a lighthearted smile forming on his lips that made my heart hurt. I glanced back at her, “why would you want to wield a sword?” I asked, glossing over her question of who the person was. There was no way I could explain it without opening up a can of worms that neither of us were ready for. Father and Hjalmar looked confused, but they left they remained silent, knowing that their questions would be answered in due time.

She paused for a moment, looking for the right words to say, the quiet crackling of the firewood filling the silence in the room that was left with the absence of her voice, “well...you wield one,” she finally answered, her eyes locking with mine. It was at that very moment, that small, inconsequential moment in, that I realized just how much she loved me. We were connected by more than just the star we were forged from. We were connected through the life force that I shared with her. My very soul had bled into hers on the day she made her grand entrance into the world, and we had been inseparable since. However, it was in those little words that I realized how pivotal my role was in her life. She looked at me as if I was the world. I was her hero, the stars in the night sky, the very foundation she stood upon. I was everything to her, and she was everything to me.

When that finally dawned on me, I wished to cry out for mercy, but I couldn’t. All I could do was swallow back the lump in my throat as I gave her a pat on the back, “go get ready for bed, and I’ll meet you in there in a moment. Leave us to speak,” I insisted, pressing a kiss to her forehead before she crawled out of my lap and wished a goodnight to the two men in the room who put on convincing smiles for her sake. She would sleep with me that night. As I gazed out of the windows and listened to the rain pour down against the roof of the cottage, I knew that she would be taking over the bed. She couldn’t sleep alone during a storm. Since she was born, she would crawl into bed with me before the first raindrop even fell, almost as if she could sense the storm in her bones. That night, I would be thankful to have her in my arms. After all that happened on Midgard, I needed the security that holding her would bring me.

Once she disappeared into the other room to change, I stood up from my chair and closed the space between my father and I. Resting myself on his lap, I wrapped my arms around him, needing to be held by someone. I needed my father. I needed my protector. I’d never grow out of that, no matter how many battles I fought, no matter how far I roamed, no matter how many places I saw. He protected me from the horrors of the world and only let me see the good that the world had to offer, which played a part in how deeply I loved everyone and everything. I saw death and destruction, but I forced myself to believe that it was done by people who hadn’t been given the same love and patience that I had been so lucky to receive. They had witnessed too much misery in their lives, and they knew nothing but chaos. I tried to see the good, and that part of me wouldn’t have been as strong had I not known so much acceptance and mercy from the people I surrounded myself with. My father was the greatest example of that mercy. Hjalmar and I were not his blood, but he treated us as nothing less than that. After what I had seen on Midgard, after what I witnessed and what I’d been through, I became a child again. I needed my father.

His arms wrapped around my waist, and I melted into his embrace as my eyes locked onto the fire. I watched as the flames licked the cobblestone, dancing with each other in perfect sync with one another. It was how I envisioned Loki and I for a thousand years. We were two wispy flames connected to the same raging fire, dancing in tandem with one another. We knew we couldn’t burn each other, and I had faith that he wouldn’t burn me. Every now and then, our individual flames would bleed into each other, the joining of two souls that had been connected since the beginning. We were the eternal twins, our love symbolized by the fire. However, when I saw him in New York, I realized how wrong I was. We were suddenly fire and water. We were detrimental to each other, no longer able to dance as we had since the beginning of time. Fate twisted us so that we were given the ability to ruin the other, but he was the one who took that opportunity. I would never.

“It was Loki,” I whispered, my voice cracking the moment I said his name. They were both silent, and I knew that it was because they understood that I wasn’t finished explaining. They wouldn’t pester me with the questions because I didn’t leave any stone unturned with them. Finding the strength I needed to continue, I took a deep breath, “he survived the fall from the bridge, and he was on Earth. I was...he wasn’t Loki, though. This was a man with his face, his voice, his name, but the things he did...the chaos and destruction he brought with him was...on an otherworldly level. I almost didn’t return,” I confessed, feeling the way my father tensed up. Loki was like a son to him, but I didn’t even have to tell him what happened for him to know that it was Loki’s doing. My father would’ve sacrificed his own life to ensure that Loki was safe, but I listened to the way his breath hitched in his throat, almost like breaking glass, “he killed nearly one hundred people, and the army of Chitauri he brought with him...took the lives of hundreds more. I...did everything I could to stop him, but I couldn’t kill him. I couldn’t do it,” I trembled, my voice giving way as the tears betrayed me and streamed down my cheeks.

I thought of the children in the orphanage. I thought of the way Loki looked at me like I was nothing. I thought of how it felt when he plunged the dagger into me-one of twin daggers that I gifted to him. I thought of the anger and madness in his eyes when I told him that I still loved him as he pressed the same dagger to my throat before he ruthlessly attacked me. I thought of the conflict when he crawled over to me, holding me in what he thought were my last moments. I thought of how he begged me not to leave him, how he wept when he thought I was about to fade into the darkness. I thought of how he pleaded with me to stay with him as my body healed just enough for me to head into the battle. He was afraid that I would be killed if I left, and I could vividly remember that fear in his eyes. I thought of how quickly he turned against me once more when we finally captured him. Thor had to be the one to put restraints on him, and after Loki mocked Steve and set his sights on me, Thor covered his mouth with the muzzle, knowing that Loki would only have snarky comments to make at me. Thor understood just how deeply the situation in New York was hurting me. Loki didn’t even understand the depth of it because he didn’t know about Aurora.

Hjalmar rose from his chair next to my father and sat in the same spot that he did when we were younger. When I was sat atop our father’s lap, Hjalmar would position himself on the floor at his feet to be closer to me. He would rest his head against Father’s knee, and he would reach up to hold one of my hands. As our palms met in that moment, I felt my burden lighten. I continued to weep, though, as my father held me tightly, keeping me pressed against his chest. His voice cut through the soft sobs that were muffled by his strong torso, “breathe, little one. You were made strong enough to weather any storm. You will make it through this one, too,” he whispered, rubbing my arm.

I took a deep breath, trying to work through the heavy emotions. Seeing him again, especially in the state that he was in, was like cutting my heart apart along the same scars that it received when he left me or when I thought he had fallen to his death. Those were the most sensitive spots, so it hurt even worse, “what of Aurora?” I asked, voicing the only concern on my mind. As soon as I mentioned her, the fire seemed to silence its crackling as the walls absorbed every sound in the room. The silence was deafening. Hjalmar’s hand tensed in mine, and no one even dared to breathe. I spoke as the silence began crushing me more than the various scenarios had, “when we were escorting him to the palace, he promised to escape, and when he did, this would be the first place he would visit. He wants to kill me. He wants to finish what he couldn’t on Midgard. He’s angry with me, and...what if he hurts her? What if he escapes and comes here?”

“We’ll be prepared,” Hjalmar interjected, his voice cutting through my panic. I lifted my head and caught his supportive gaze, “if he comes here and tries to hurt her, I will bury him in the ground. Family or not, he’ll meet my axe if he comes here with ill intent for either of you.”

I shook my head, knowing that his words were born of nothing but the unconditional love he felt for the two of us. He had always been my protector even when I didn’t want him to be, but it had only been amplified when Aurora came around. She was a father figure to her, and he acted like one. He protected her the way he did when we were children, even from things that weren’t even threats. When it began to rain, he would pull off his jacket and hold it over her head until they returned to the cottage. He kept us safe, and with my father and him close, I understood that Loki would only get to Aurora and I should he kill them, and he would have to kill me to get to her. Still, I saw how powerful he had become in New York, and the madness only opened up new abilities for him. He was stronger, faster, and more fearless. Should he arrive at our home, I couldn’t risk the lives of my father and brother, “I don’t want him to be killed. He’s still...I still...” my voice trailed off as I shook my head in disbelief that I could still harbor such deep feelings for the man who hurt so many people, for the man who tore apart the fabric of what we built our love upon.

Sensing exactly what I was feeling, my father spoke, “the most broken hearts are those that have experienced the most love. You hurt so deeply because you have been loved so intensely, little wolf. We will figure out what the next steps must be, and we will do it together. No matter what, though, you and Aurora will be safe,” he murmured, the creak of the door pulling our attention away from each other and causing me to collect myself quickly.

Aurora bounced out of the room in her nightgown, her black hair sweeping over her shoulders. I knew that the storm was distressing for her. She was afraid, but she wouldn’t tell me that she was anxious for me to finish my conversation so that I would retire to the room to keep her company. She wouldn’t voice those fears, but I knew by the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, that she was growing restless. I smiled at her, standing up from the safety of my father’s arms before walking over to her. I cast a glance back at them and nodded, silently wishing them goodnight. Reaching down between us, I held my hand out for Aurora’s, and when she grasped it, we walked into the room together. Like clockwork, she crawled into bed before me and sat upright, waiting for me to sink myself down and become comfortable. Only then did she curl up with me, resting her head right beneath my chin.

I smiled up at the ceiling, feeling her try to pull herself closer to me. If I had known the night before I left would be our final night of security-our final night of happiness-I would’ve made the most of it. I would’ve held her like our worlds weren’t about to fall to pieces. I would’ve tickled and listened to that laugh until she was too fatigued to prance around the woods anymore, begging to return home to sleep. I would’ve cradled her closer to me than I ever had before, but we never know when the last of something was. We could never know which one was our final heartbreak, or which one was our final smile. We never knew which moment would be the last with joy and love. In that moment, I realized that the safest place for her was as far away from me as possible. The mere thought made my heart shatter, but it was true.

I choked back the tears, my grip on her tightening, “the morning you were born followed the hardest night of my life. It was the night this world lost your father,” I murmured, feeling her eyes on my face as I glanced out the window, hearing the thunder and rain, “the sky opened up, and it rained all night. Thunder and lightning rolled in across the horizon, and I knew that it was because the universe felt his absence just as deeply as I did. She cried with me, but I didn’t have time to mourn him as much as I should’ve because you decided that you needed to mend my broken heart. You decided that it was time for me to hold you because when your father...died...I felt my world slipping away, and I was lost. It turns out that I was lost because you were meant to find me. It was as if you knew what your presence would bring to me: a lifetime of joy, love, and beauty that I’d never known before,” I reminisced, my voice becoming thick with tears.

Clearing my throat, I continued, “and when our eyes met for the first time, the storm cleared, and the sun began to rise on the horizon, chasing away the clouds. There was nothing but clear skies and light from that moment on. We have both known the storm, but we’re strong enough to weather whatever comes our way. I remember that day like it was yesterday. The light from the dawn filled the room, and it felt like it was rising just for you. I felt invincible the moment you looked at me, like I could take on the world, and I felt more love than I’d ever felt before. I never knew how deeply I could love until I met you, and within the blink of an eye, my world changed for the better. The girl I used to be, the one who had known nothing but heartache in the months prior to your birth, she disappeared into the background the moment I held you, and I returned to the girl I was when I shared my heart with another,” I mused, as my heart ached with what would come tomorrow. She would no longer be my little girl, and my life would lack the laughter and joy-the love-she brought into it.

My eyes connected with hers, and I saw my reflection in them, but I didn’t feel like the warrior or the goddess or the queen that she saw me as. I felt like a failure. My decision was to fail her, and in doing so, I would keep her safe. I fought back my tears, forcing a smile on my face as she yawned. She didn’t need to worry, and my tumultuous emotions would only lead to her becoming more and more anxious. This would be her final night of peace, and I would bear the burden of knowledge until I was forced to forfeit my love and happiness the following day, “you were and will always be...the greatest gift life could’ve ever given to me. You are my favorite, favorite thing,” I whispered, pressing a featherlight kiss to her nose as her smile brightened the darkness in my heart, “get some sleep now, little wolf. I will still be here when you wake.”

She nodded her head, another little yawn escaping her lips, “I love you, Mother, and I miss you already,” she whispered as her eyes closed, ready to accept the sleep I knew she hadn’t been getting with my absence. She slept far more soundly at my side than she did without me, and she couldn’t sleep at all during the storms without me.

“I love you more,” I responded in typical fashion, listening to the way her breath steadied. She fell asleep within minutes of hearing my final profession of love to her, and I just watched her, drinking in every feature and committing it to memory. All I would have left of her would be memories. When I knew she was finally asleep, the tears began to cascade from my eyes and down my cheeks. I held back the sobs as I thought of how true our typical parting words rang in that moment, “I miss you already.”

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the-marvel-imagines-blog · 5 years

Photo

Requests are OPEN

Imagine…Peter Quill growing a long beard and trying to imitate Endgame Thor.

[x] - requested by anonymous

Gif Credit: @thorodinson

Pairing: None

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: None

A/N: I had a really fun time writing this imagine. I don’t usually give much thought to the Guardians, but this felt like a nice change of pace.

Peter Quill was a hero in the eyes of his teammates, but that rarely stopped them from teasing him. He knew that he would face some scrutiny for growing out the Thor-esque beard so soon after the God of Thunder joined them on his ship. He was still in charge. Peter was obviously still in charge. He was in charge, right? Gamora would’ve tried to offer him as much support as possible if she was there, but he knew it wouldn’t have lasted long before she began to grin at the ever-growing beard. Maybe Peter would give up growing it at a certain point, he didn’t know, but whatever Thor was doing to get such a glorious piece of facial hair was a mystery to him.

Checking the status of it in the mirror, he frowned. It wasn’t as full as the God of Thunders was even when they met pre-snap. He groaned before catching his own eyes in the mirror, a grin forming in them before it reached his lips. Clearing his throat, he stood up straight, trying to puff out his chest to appear taller and more muscular. With a huff, he stood on his tip-toes, reaching as tall as he was going to get. He would not get the crate again. Satisfied with his new height, he tried to imitate the voice that had become something of a background song in the ship, “hello-” he groaned, the voice not sounding quite deep enough to match that of the Asgardian God. It was like a kitten trying to imitate a lion. A man couldn’t imitate thunder.

With another deep cough, he clenched his fists, trying to channel some of that rage that Thor seemed to pull out of thin air, “oooh, look at me, I’m-” he started again, cursing himself silently. He shook his head, becoming more and more frustrated with himself the more time passed. He had the accent, but the voice wasn’t deep enough, “he wouldn’t say ‘oooh.’ Why did I say ‘ooh?’” he asked himself, locking eyes with his reflection once more, “you got this, Quill. He’s the kitten. You’re the lion!” he noted, trying to pump himself up for his next attempt, “yeah, look at me! I’m Thor, and I’m the God of Thunder, which makes no sense because I only play with lightning!” he mocked the Asgardian on the ship who noted that they should change their name to the Asgardians of the galaxy, a play on their actual team name.

Peter didn’t like it.

“Are you serious?” Rocket asked from the corner, startling the young Starlord.

Peter’s eyes widened. No way. This was not happening again. Hoping it was some kind of dream, he shook his head quickly, “what? I wasn’t doing anything,” he defended himself.

From the seat Groot had planted himself in-moping at the fact that he had recently been punished-the teenager turned his attention away from the ceiling of the ship just long enough to give his two cents, “I am Groot,” he stated, successfully ratting Peter out.

Rocket began laughing, doubling over in an attempt to catch his breath, and Peter’s jaw hung slack, his mouth gaping open as he searched for any words to defend himself from a tree that obviously witnessed something, “uh, no, you didn’t see that!” he argued back, knowing that nothing he said would make Rocket stop his incessant laughter, “and do you wanna know how I know that? Because it didn’t happen!” he lied without shame. It had to be done.

Groot rolled his eyes, “I am Groot.”

It was even more shocking! Peter hated when Groot talked back, but he understood that teens did that often. Still, with Peter already being on edge, it wasn’t helping the situation, “yeah, well you’re...ungrounded! Go back to playing your video games and let us talk in private!”

With one of those rare smiles and small sounds of contentment, Groot reached for his game, but Rocket’s words stopped him in his tracks. His laughter died away almost immediately as he glared up at Peter who always felt slightly unsettled at the idea of a raccoon staring him down, “hey! You can’t unground him! Only I can unground him, and he’s still grounded!” he shouted, Groot’s groan of frustration being the only sound in the silence that seemed to last ages. Peter should be able to unground and ground whoever he saw fit. This was his ship, and he was the leader of the team. He was the Captain America. Unaware of the fight going on in Peter’s mind, Rocket turned his attention to Groot, “alright, now you’re ungrounded, but it’s because I said so,” he stated, making it perfectly clear who was in charge of the teen.

Peter scoffed.

Rocket, turning his gaze back over to Quill, let out another chuckle, his teeth showing as his eyes crinkled, “hey, Thor, come here!” he called out, causing Peter to panic. What was he going to do? Peter would only admit that he was slightly intimidated by the God of Thunder, but that was only because he was a god. It was not because he was still superior in his level of attractiveness even with the beer gut he had going on. Peter shook his head violently, trying to step away from the situation before Thor rounded the corner, locking eyes on him. He sighed as Thor smiled at him. Rocket gestured between the two men, “do the voice thing!” he instructed Peter who shook his head in response.

“There was no voice!” he yelled, exasperated.

“There was totally a voice,” Drax interjected from the corner, eating more food. Where did he put it? If Peter even looked at a sandwich for a second too long, he gained five pounds.

Instead of responding to the claim, Peter asked a question of his own, “where did you even come from?” he asked, gesturing over to Drax, who continued to chew, showing no signs of attempting to answer the question.

“We heard it, too!” Mantis called out from her seated position on the floor next to Nebula.

Thor grinned, catching Peter’s eyes as he began getting flustered, “I would love to hear the voice.”

“You gotta do the voice!” Rocket pressed before everyone began pestering him to do the imitation. Peter couldn’t do the voice, right? He hadn’t anticipated anyone to be listening when he was trying it out in the first place, and it had just been a joke. It wasn’t a joke that was meant for his teams consumption, just one to help him destress. Living on board the ship with Thor himself was a constant struggle for power, and he was constantly feeling self-conscious about his role on his own ship. If he did the voice, what would the repercussions be? What if it wasn’t deep enough? He’d only be making a fool out of himself anyway. Why did they want him to make a fool of himself? What was wrong with these people?

In the midst of all the voices-everyone attempting to talk over each other-Peter took a deep breath, and puffed his chest out, not daring to stand on his tip-toes in front of his team for the fear that it would be another milk crate incident. He cleared his throat and spoke loudly, the noise dying away immediately, “oooh, look at me! I’m Thor, and I’m the God of Thunder, which makes no sense because I only play with lightning! Everyone has a crush on me because they made an action figure after me, but no one plays with dolls anymore, so I’m...angry...” Peter trailed off, his voice giving way to the silence around them.

Everyone’s eyes flickered between Thor and Peter, and Thor’s eyes were locked on the “captain” of the ship. Peter couldn’t bear to lock eyes with him, the heat from Thor’s gaze being more than enough to feel like he would soon catch on fire. Perhaps, he had taken it too far. When Peter finally gave in and stared over at the God of Thunder, Thor took a long swig of his beer his eyes still locked on the Starlord. When he finished, he crushed the can and looked him up and down, “cute beard,” Thor noted before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving the room in stunned silence.

Peter let out a deep, pent up breath before looking at himself in the mirror once more. With a shake of his head, he watched as his own cheeks began to flush with embarrassment, “yeah, I’m just gonna shave it.”

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the-marvel-imagines-blog · 5 years

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Imagine Peter Quill growing long beard and trying to imitate Endgame Thor.

Done and done!

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the-marvel-imagines-blog · 5 years

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Madness | Chpt. 25

Chapter Title: “Her”

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character (Eva)

Word Count: 9,635

Warnings: There are some potential triggers in this, but I’m unable to reveal those triggers without spoiling the chapter.

Name Pronunciations: Hjalmar: “He-all-mar” | Aaldir: “All-deer” | Ephinea: “Eh-fin-ee-uh”

Summary: Aurora.

A/N: Thank you all so, so, so much for reading <3

Loki and I hadn’t seen or spoken to each other in months. I had kept myself a secret to him, staying within the confines of my home or in the general proximity. I dared not venture too far away for fear that my secret would be discovered. Only a handful of people knew of the little life I was caring for until he or she was ready to make her grand entrance into my life. The baby that Loki and I created would prove to be the last piece of him I would have, and I would hold them close for the rest of my life. Sif, Ephinea, Thor, and Frigga were the only ones who knew aside from Aaldir and Hjalmar-the two people who saw me every single day, the two people who I could never keep a secret from no matter how hard I tried, especially not one of this magnitude. I swore everyone who knew to absolute secrecy. No one was to tell Loki. He didn’t want to be with me, and I wouldn’t burden him with the responsibility of this life-a life he didn’t want.

Resting my hand on my ever-growing bump, I smiled down at it, wondering what he or she would look like. It shouldn’t have been that way, though. I shouldn’t have wondered these things on my own. The plan was always to start a family with Loki; it was what we’d always spoken of...always dreamed of. Each time I thought of them, I wondered if I would be lucky enough for him or her to look nothing like him. Perhaps it would help me forget that he was a part of my life at all. I didn’t want the constant reminder that I mothered his child, a man who never loved me in the first place, a man I still loved even after all the harsh words, all the anger, all the grief. He was the man who guided me through the darkness time and time again, but when he threw me away, I was left with nothing but darkness. The other part of me wanted to be reminded of the man I knew. For a thousand years, Loki was the man who loved me fiercely, the man who made me feel beautiful, the man who made me feel like a princess. I still wanted our child to be like him, like the man I knew.

No one spoke of Loki when they visited, and I was given no information as to what was going on in the outside world. No one wanted to burden me with knowledge, and I was grateful for that. Frigga hadn’t visited in a short time, but Ephinea brought the gowns that Frigga made to fit me. Instead of telling me where Frigga was and what business she was attending to, Ephinea simply told me that there were responsibilities Frigga needed to see to at the palace. I always understood. When I mentioned the fear in her eyes, she would give a cryptic answer, and I usually gave up trying to figure it out, knowing that she was keeping her words private for a reason. No one wanted to upset me more than I already had been.

Listening to Hjalmar humming the song he often sang to my stomach, I traced small circles against the bump. Like an explosion of butterflies, I felt the life within me shift as my little one found a comfortable position. I stopped moving as soon as I felt the first movement within me, smiling at the feeling. It was still so surreal. Even though I was still heartbroken that this would be a journey I would be taking alone, I had prepared myself for so long to be a mother, and this was the most beautiful opportunity to be given. Perhaps this was how it was meant to be. Perhaps having Loki and a baby wasn’t meant for me. Perhaps I wasn’t meant to be too happy, so I had to lose something. My little one spun into an uncomfortable position, causing my breath to hitch in my throat. It felt like one of their feet was stuck in my ribs, causing every movement to feel like a cramp. I gritted my teeth, Hjalmar’s voice quieting the moment he realized that I was in pain. Father had been out in the stables and the garden tending to the animals and plants, and he had asked Hjalmar to keep an eye on me. My brother turned around, his eyes focusing on me, “is everything alright?” he asked, trying to hide the worry in his voice.

I chuckled, trying to work my way through the pain, but it only made the sharp pain that much worse, “ooh,” I breathed out, trying and failing to pull in a deep breath. The moment my lungs expanded too far, that pain felt like a stab in the chest. I grunted, “I’ll be alright,” I noted, not wanting my brother to worry.

Trying to get my overprotective older brother to stop worrying had always been a losing battle. It was like he was made to worry about me, “is it the baby?” he asked, his blue eyes becoming warmer the moment he mentioned the littlest Asgardian he had been eagerly awaiting the arrival of.

Another breath, another sharp pain. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to force myself to breathe through it, and I gave a nod in response to his question. As if he knew that anymore questions would make me start to panic, Hjalmar closed the space between us and sat on the floor next to me, offering me his silent support. That was all I ever needed. Those little moments of support-in a perfect world-would’ve been given to me by Loki, but I would have never been so lucky. Every breath that was too deep caused a sharp pain. No matter how I tried to adjust, no matter what I did, that little foot was still lodged in my ribs. I snickered, “there’s a mutually comfortable position for you to be in, you know? It doesn’t have to be this one,” I noted, speaking to my stomach, and with one quick turn-one burst of butterflies-he or she repositioned herself as if they could hear and understand me. I smiled as I inhaled deeply without pain, “oh, you’re going to be a little troublemaker just like your father, aren’t you?” I asked, thinking only of the man Loki had been, not the man he became.

My moment of happiness, as always, was cut short. My father burst into the cottage, already donning his leather armor. He had no need for the bulky metal armor, even though I often pestered him to protect himself more. I knew the type of warrior he was, though. He was nimble and quick, always faster than his opponent. However, I couldn’t help but think that there would come a day when he met his match on the battlefield, an opponent who was both stronger and more agile than him. I wasn’t always worried for my father’s safety, but when I saw the fear in his eyes as he hurried over to the mantle above the lit fireplace that offered us some dim light in the darkness of the night. He pulled his greatsword, Omen, off the wall, and my heart leapt into my throat. Hjalmar scrambled up to his feet, but I was a bit slower than usual, gravity pulling me in a different way than it once had. Father’s eyes flickered between the two of us, “arm yourselves-both of you. Do not leave the cottage until I return, and stay absolutely silent. Listen to everything. Every snap of a twig could be one of them,” he rambled off his orders, ignoring the clear confusion on both of our faces. He focused his eyes on my brother, “and if they do find the two of you hiding in here, you protect your sister at all costs, do you understand?” he asked, his brown eyes becoming more stern than I’d ever seen them before.

Hjalmar gave a quick nod as a response to our father’s question. It was an order that I loathed with every fiber of my being. We all knew that I could protect myself, and should it be my time to retire, then so be it; however, my father made my brother promise time and time again that should my life be in question, he would lay his life on the line for me. Hjalmar never faltered, either, but I didn’t want his blood on my conscience. His thick eyebrows furrowed, “what’s going on?”

“Frost Giants,” our father answered simply, his eyes hardening.

My blood ran cold as only one thought crossed my mind. Loki. He was out there, and as long as he was out there, he was in danger. While a part of me never wished to see him again, the larger part of me-the part that still loved him endlessly-was convinced that there was still something to salvage. I needed to protect him. Before I could move away from my father and over to the door, ready to disobey every order he gave by running out into the darkened woods, he grabbed my arm. I narrowed my eyes at him, “I need to find Loki!”

“You need to stay here!” he argued, his voice louder than usual. My father never believed in solving problems by raising our voices and shouting at one another. However, when he spoke, we listened. I didn’t disobey him, and it wasn’t because of fear, it was because I knew how guilty I would feel for letting him down. He didn’t disappoint me, so I didn’t want to disappoint him. His eyes were harsh in that moment, though, and I knew that should I disobey him and try to leave, it would break his heart.

Still, I couldn’t stop the thoughts of Loki. I couldn’t imagine a world without him, a life without a single hope that we could possibly find our way back to each other. Even after months of not waking up with him by my side, I still held out hope that we would someday rekindle the love we once had. Something deep within me was telling me that he didn’t mean everything he said to me in the garden. He couldn’t keep up a lie for a thousand years. I knew him since we were children, and the spark had been there between us since even before then. If there was any way for me to keep him safe, I had to discover it. I couldn’t just sit in the cottage and hope that he would be protected, “if the frost giants are here, he’s in danger!” I argued back to my father, balling my hands up into fists as the anger coursed through me. If anyone hurt him, they’d have to answer to me. If anyone hurt him, they would discover true pain. In my father’s eyes, I saw a flash of red in my own, a shade that startled him but seemed almost like a trick of the light. Perhaps it was nothing.

He shook off the strange occurrence, “and if you go to him, you will be in danger!” he growled, his voice low.

“It’s worth the risk!” I insisted, trying to free my arm from his grasp. It was a losing battle. My father was a God, and he had the strength to prove it. While he was the God of Mercy-a peacekeeper if there ever was one-he was still powerful. He had a vice grip on my wrist, and he showed no signs of letting go.

“You’re not just risking your own life anymore. There’s another one you must think of,” he reminded me, gesturing down to the sign of life that blossomed within me. I gazed down at the bump that hid beneath my gown, the tears burning my eyes. I had become so much more emotional as of late. All of my emotions had been out of control and far more intense than usual. I knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that my father was right. If I left the safety of the cottage, I’d be putting more than just my life on the line, I’d be inadvertently putting my unborn baby's life in danger as well. Knowing that he had successfully changed my mind on the matter, my father continued, catching my eyes once more and calming my nerves with just a simple gaze, “you have my word that I’ll find Loki, and I’ll send him back to the cottage. He’s still family, and we protect our own.”

Hjalmar positioned himself at the door to his chambers with his battleaxe, Frostbite, at the ready. His living space was at the top of the stairs with an easily maneuverable makeshift ladder that we built as children to sneak out of the house and play with the wildlife in the forest. Strategically, it was the best place to hide as long as we didn’t move around too much, keeping our presence within the house a secret. We had the perfect view of two important directions. The frost giants, should they come for us, would’ve come from the North, South, and East, and we had the perfect-albeit distorted by the darkness-view of the North and East. The vast forest beyond our home to the West wasn’t the most strategically sound for them to ambush us, but Hjalmar and I couldn’t rule it out. My heart felt like it was in my throat as I grew more and more worried with every passing moment that Loki didn’t arrive. However, if he knew that my father was out there, he wouldn’t run when he could fight by his side. Loki was just as wildly protective of my family as he was of me. Aaldir had taken him in on more than one occasion, and Loki often voiced his love for my father and brother, the two of them being just as pivotal in his life as Thor and Frigga.

It was my worst fear in that moment, but it offered me a sense of relief. What if Loki stayed to fight the frost giants alongside my father, not wanting to leave him alone on the battlefield? Would that mean anything for us? Thousands of scenarios continued to rush through my mind, but I tried to dismiss them each time another one arose. When my thoughts began overpowering me, I would find Hjalmar’s eyes in the darkness, and they offered me comfort. A light, supportive smile formed on his full lips beneath the golden brown beard that matched the long waves that were pulled into a bun atop his head. He was the one who kept me grounded in my moment of need, the one who pulled my thoughts back to the present when they were venturing off into darkened territory.

The snap of a twig pulled our attention, and we looked out the East windows, the only light coming from the moon and stars in the sky. It lit patches of the pathway to the house, which was where the sound resonated from. As my heart began to thud in my chest, my blood running cold, I gripped the hilt of Soulkeeper, trying to steady my breathing. My eyes continued to focus solely on the path while Hjalmar’s darted around to see if they had ventured away from it in order to sneak up on us. Suddenly, the light caught the small group headed back toward the cottage led by my father. Even in the starlight, I got a quick glimpse of him. His face was pale, and he didn’t move a muscle aside from the gentle swaying of his body as his chestnut stallion carried him toward the cottage. Following close behind him was Thor on his grey steed and Ephinea on her spotted mare.

The sight that left me truly baffled, the sight that caused me to choke on the very air I needed to survive, was the rope in my father’s hand that led Loki’s midnight black stallion along with them. His coat blended into the darkness surrounding him, but when the light from the stars and moon hit it, there was the slightest shimmer that gave him away. However, upon closer inspection, I noticed that Onyx had no rider. He walked as if he was just as aware of the reality that I couldn’t bring myself to acknowledge. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t happen this way. The moment it processed in my mind, I sprinted out the bedroom door before Hjalmar could catch me in an embrace that would be stronger than my will to live if my love was truly gone. No amount of supportive gazes would comfort me at that point.

I scrambled down the stairs with Hjalmar right behind me, shouting my name the entire time. He didn’t see what I saw, though. It was clear that he hadn’t seen Loki’s bare horse. That was a gift I had presented him with so long ago, the horse that was the opposite of Aria. While Aria was pale white, Loki’s was as black as night. He took a liking to things that were cast aside. Asgardians had been some of the most superstitious people I’d ever met throughout my life’s journey. They believed that everything symbolized something, and a black so rich, so vibrant, symbolized darkness and destruction; therefore, they were cast aside. Loki knew that isolation. He knew what it was like to be cast aside, so he developed a deep love for the “undesirables.” It was one of the purest things about him. He found the unyielding beauty in the things others deemed as grotesque. Loki had a different perception, so when I came across the wild black stallion during one of my many walks through the deep woods, I took him in and trained him for when I would inevitably gift him to Loki. I could still remember the way Loki’s eyes filled with tears when Onyx closed the space between the two of them, choosing Loki as his own.

Bursting through the door that led out to the path my father was making his way down, I locked eyes with him, the moon illuminating his tear-stained cheeks. I shook my head, falling to my knees. I knew. It all added up. I sat in the safety of my home-followed my father’s orders-and allowed my love to be taken from me. This was my fault. My chest felt like it was collapsing, and my breath was escaping me. I struggled to pull in every breath, but I didn’t want to fight without him. I didn’t want to fight if every possible future was gone. If Loki was truly...I couldn’t even think of the word. If he was gone, he took my life with him. I didn’t want to fight. There was no purpose to my life without him. It would be a life void of happiness, of warmth, of everything. I had a family who loved me, friends who cherished me, and a baby on the way. However, if my fears were undoubtedly true, there was nothing left. Loki and I were separated, but there was still hope. If he was gone, that hope was gone, too, and I would die alone. There would be no other man. There would be no other entity who could fill the hole in my heart, so what would my purpose be? What was a life without love?

As my ears rang, I felt my brother’s presence at my side. He remained standing, but he grasped my shoulder with his hand, offering me every ounce of support I would need. He knew, too. Our eyes were locked on the approaching group. I studied each of their faces like I needed more proof that my hopes and dreams would be crushed in mere moments. Thor’s eyes were red from crying, and a permanent frown was etched on his face. His hair was a mess, which wasn’t unusual, but it looked as if he had run his fingers through it time and time again, trying to process the sad truth that he would break to me soon enough. Ephinea rode silently behind him, silent and solemn. She was stone-faced, but I knew that it wasn’t because of her lack of emotions. She, like any other warrior of Asgard, knew how to compartmentalize, but she often didn’t know when to stop. In any other circumstances, she’d allow herself to shed a tear on the way back from battle as she silently mourned the lives lost. This, though, was more proof that she was continuing to hold it together for my sake.

My father’s face was stricken with grief, his cheeks still glistening with tears. The closer he got with the group, the more I distanced myself. I tried to think of any other scenario that would lead to this. Maybe something else had transpired. Perhaps Loki was fine, and gifting back to me the horse I had given him was his way of letting me go completely. Maybe he was imprisoned, something that wouldn’t seem far-fetched. All through Loki’s life, it was as if Odin looked for a reason to punish him. Maybe Odin had fallen in battle, and that was why the party was so somber. Loki had to be fine. I didn’t care if he was alive with only resentment in his heart for me, at least he’d be alive. He had to be alive. My hope would only live as long as he did, and...what would a life without it be?

When the group reached Hjalmar and I, Ephinea slid off her horse and closed the space between us. She offered me her hand, but I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to stand even if I did manage to rise to my feet. I gazed up into her dark brown eyes that seemed to glow in the light of the torch my father had lit should Loki need to find his way to the cottage in the darkness. It was the same torch he had lit for Hjalmar and I whenever we rode off to battle. Even though we knew our way back to the cottage, so much so that we could travel the path blindfolded, our father continued to light it. In the silence that fell between Ephinea and I, I took in her beauty. The pit in my stomach told me that this would be the final moment I’d be able to appreciate the beauty of anything. She was built like an amazon, tall and slender, yet delicate and strong. She had skin that was touched by the sun and waves of hair that was darker than mine but not quite as dark as Loki’s. Her dark brown eyes offered the same security that my father’s did, and they acted as a mirror back to myself and a window into who she was. She was a woman without imperfections, a woman who-in a reality where Loki and I never met-I would have promised my heart to. Instead, she promised her sword and her unyielding friendship and loyalty to me, which had always been more than I deserved.

My eyes disconnected from hers, and they trailed down to her extended hand. I didn’t know if I could take it. I didn’t know if I should take it and rise up only to have the mass of the world thrown on top of me. I didn’t know if standing up was worth it when I know I was moments away from falling, “take my hand, Eva. I won’t let you fall,” she promised, her voice softer than usual. She was the Goddess of Strength, a warrior if there ever was one, but she knew when to nurture, when to brush aside the title and show her vulnerability. With her promise, I reached out and took her hand. She pulled me up onto my feet before interlocking our fingers, giving my hand a gentle squeeze, “you are the strongest woman I’ve ever met. You’re a force to be reckoned with, and I love you. I’m here to support you every step of the way, you understand that, right?” she asked, her eyes filling with those unshed tears.

I nodded my head, unable to speak, but when our eyes met, she knew what I desperately wanted to tell her. She knew how thankful I was that she was there with me in that moment. Her bottom lip quivered as my father slid off his horse, followed closely by Thor. Hjalmar stood at my other side. His massive form had always acted as a shield for me, but nothing was going to shield me from this. When my father finally stood before us with Thor at his side, I asked the question that my soul already knew the answer to, “where is he?” I trembled, feeling that my knees were about to give way beneath me.

Father sighed, “Eva, we should probably go inside,” he murmured, fighting back the lump in his throat as he gestured toward the cottage.

“No!” I snapped, causing everyone to flinch. I wasn’t one to raise my voice. It was against my nature, but when the fate of my beloved was in question, my calm and gentle nature gave way to a more brutal one, “tell me where he is!” I demanded.

“Eva,” Thor breathed out, stepping forward as if he knew what my outburst was doing to my father. It was at that moment that I saw how unrelenting Thor’s tears were. He had been crying, and he was continuing to shed tears. That couldn’t mean anything good. Something happened, but I didn’t want to believe it until they said it.

I gritted my teeth, narrowing my eyes at the prince of Asgard, the one who stood by my side without question for so many years, the one who professed his love to me time and time again. He deserved none of my anger, but he received it. I didn’t know how to control this, how to control this unyielding anger at the unknown, “don’t say another word unless you’re telling me where he is!” I yelled, my voice piercing the dense forest air. The birds stopped their quiet chirping, and the world became quiet. Even the breeze stopped its gentle dance to stop and listen. The world became quiet, almost as if it was preparing itself to listen to the sound of my heart when it shattered.

There was a moment of silence in the air that was once filled with our laughter. If I listened close enough, the echo of it was still deep in the woods, still bouncing off the trunks of the trees that came to life when we were together. It was my final moment before the end. When my father pulled in a shaky breath, I braced myself for the impact of his words, “he’s gone,” he whispered, his words cutting into my heart like a knife. I had vastly underestimated what it would feel like. Two single words, which were harmless apart from one another, ruined me when they were used together.

My breath caught in my throat as I shook my head. I placed my hand on my chest, desperately searching for the beat of my heart to discover whether or not it was still there, “no, no, no, no, no,” I mumbled, my knees buckling underneath me. Before I could fall to the ground, Hjalmar caught me, and Ephinea steadied me, continuing to hold tightly to my free hand. It didn’t even feel real. It was like the moment before you fall asleep. You can’t single out what your final moment of consciousness was when you awoke the next morning. One couldn’t vividly describe the very last moment before sleep took them. The darkness-the nothingness-gradually enveloped you...just like it did to me in that moment. I continued to shake my head. I had no control over anything, and it felt as if my body had just given up for me for fear that I would do something drastic. I searched for words. I needed to know what happened, why this was my reality, and as I desperately tried to find the right ones, I wondered when I would wake up from this nightmare, “w-why...what-tell me what happened,” I pressed, my voice trembling as I tried to hold myself together for just a little bit longer. The second I accepted it was the second I was lost.

Father shook his head, “I don’t think-”

I cut him off, “TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM!” I screamed, the ground beneath us trembling as a bolt of fury surged through me. Whoever killed him, whoever played a part in his...death, I hoped they were alive. I hoped they were alive, and I hoped they ran from me. I wanted the chase. I wanted to stalk them like a predator, to make them never feel safe no matter where they were. I wanted them to know fear. I wanted them to know pain. I wanted to know them, and I wanted them to know of me. I would be like the wind. We knew of it, and we felt it from time to time, but we didn’t see it-only the effects of it, like the rustling of the leaves on the trees. Before my fantasies could continue, I saw Thor’s eyes widen at the sight of me, and I followed his eyes down to my hands where my veins seemed to glow red. I furrowed my eyebrows, fear overcoming me for a moment before it quickly manifested its way back into anger that I wasn’t getting a response, “TELL ME!” I boomed once more, storm clouds converging above us.

“The bridge was destroyed,” Thor confessed, finally giving me somewhat of an answer.

My heart seemed like it fell from my very chest if it was still present at all. The fear and anger immediately died away to grief and disbelief. I needed to see him for myself, or I couldn’t believe it. With a quick twist of my body, I broke away from Ephinea and Hjalmar and took off toward the horses. I needed to see him. Before I could pass my father and Thor, Thor’s strong arms caught me, stopping me in my tracks. There was no way to break free of his grasp unless I hurt him, and I didn’t want to do that. Thor was one of my closest friends, one of my heroes. I didn’t want to cause him pain, but if he didn’t let me see Loki, the love of my life, my other soul, the father of my unborn baby, I would tear him apart. Tears began cascading down my cheeks as I kicked and flailed, trying to release his grip on me, “let me go! Let me go!” I yelled, trying desperately to twist my body away from him. I didn’t want to be held by anyone except Loki. I didn’t want anyone to touch me, to comfort me, to tell me this would all be okay. Nothing was ever going to be okay without him. I began beating on Thor’s chest, trying to get him away from me, trying to get him to release his grip on me. I wanted him to give up, to let me go see the one I loved for the last time. I deserved something. I deserved to know, “let me go!” I wailed, the tears blurring my vision, “none of you know who he was to me! None of you understand! I can’t do this! I can’t do this without him! I need to see him!”

“There’s nothing to see!” Thor boomed, stopping me from my desperate fight to free myself. What did he mean? What happened? I didn’t have time to question him before tears began streaming down his cheeks, getting caught in the beard that was always so well kept, “he fell from the Bifrost, Eva. He’s gone.”

There was nothing.

There was nothing for me to see, nothing for me to mourn. I would have no closure, but I would also have none of the trauma of seeing the man I loved-the man I was so deeply connected to-dead. All that I would have was a life left wondering. I’d wonder if it was all true, if he really even was dead. I’d have a life of hoping that it wasn’t true, hoping it was all just an elaborate scheme. What if he ran away? What if everyone was just lying to me to get me to move on? What if this wasn’t real? I turned my gaze over to my father, suddenly feeling like I was no longer in control of my own body or the words that escaped my mouth, “you promised!” I yelled, glaring at him. He flinched at my words, and I wished I could take them back, but I couldn’t even stop. The tears continued to escape my eyes as I fought against Thor again. I no longer wanted to see Loki, to run to the bifrost to find any remnants of him. Instead, I wanted to hurt the only man who loved me without question, without reason or doubt. My father. I hated that feeling. I hated myself for feeling it, but I felt so deeply betrayed by his inability to keep his promise. I was crushed. I sobbed, “you promised to find him and send him home!”

He shook his head, his bottom lip quivering as his eyes filled with tears that never truly went away in the first place. It was clear that he’d been crying for some time before venturing home, but my words cut through him like a knife, “I’m so sorry.”

“You promised!” I screamed, the emptiness becoming more and more unbearable. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want any of this. I couldn’t do this without him. I had sent many souls to Death, but there was one final one that I desired to deliver: my own. As the thought crossed my mind, my body seized as I felt a light pop and a sudden gush of water wetting my inner thighs and legs.

No.

Everyone froze, staring at the ground beneath me. I lifted the skirt of my dress just enough to see the small puddle that formed on the forest floor before a sharp pain spread from my lower abdomen into my back and thighs, leaving me doubled over in pain. I gritted my teeth, feeling the pressure building up within me. It couldn’t be happening yet. I still had time. There was still a while longer before the baby was supposed to arrive. This was all wrong. I wasn’t ready. I shook my head over and over again, trying to come to terms with this. In that moment, Loki’s fate was pushed to the side. My first thought was my baby...our baby. I stared up at my father, terrified for the life of my child. This was wrong. This could only be a bad omen. All I could think of was that I would lose both of them, and that would be my tipping point. I needed his strength in that moment. Brushing off the pain I know I caused him, he closed the space between us, and Thor released me, allowing my father to scoop me up into his arms, “I’ve got you, little wolf,” he murmured those familiar words to me.

“I’ll get my mother,” Thor panicked before hurrying over to his horse. This wasn’t the plan. We had the plan set up when I was closer to giving birth. I pictured him or her being born in the morning, as the sun rose to greet them. As the rain began to pour down on top of us, I knew that a beautiful sunrise wasn’t a possibility.

I wrapped one of my arms over my father’s shoulder as the other cradled my stomach, wondering what would come of this, “it’s not time. I’m not ready,” I stated as the panic began to set in.

“All things happen in their own time, little one. The time for this new life has come, and you will prepare yourself as you go along. You’re ready for this, though,” he whispered the words of support as he carried me toward the cottage with Hjalmar and Ephinea in tow, “you’ve always been ready for this.”

Ephinea knelt by the side of my bed, holding my hand all the way. It was all happening so quickly but not quickly enough all at once. The pain was intense, but I swallowed all but a few grunts and moans along the way. Frigga had urged me to walk around, as it would help speed the process along, and it was also far more comfortable than laying in the bed. When a contraction hit me while I was walking, I was able to readjust myself much more than when I was in the bed. Thor, Sif, and Hjalmar waited in the living area, sitting by the fire in near silence. Each time Frigga and I walked out of the room, their eyes would dart over to us, anticipation filling their gaze as they searched for the baby that still hadn’t arrived. Hjalmar would often take my hand and walk with me around the outer perimeter of the cottage. He knew how deeply I wanted to be surrounded by the wildlife when it came time to deliver my baby, but this was the best I was going to get-little strolls outside to speed up the process.

He would speak with me, trying to calm my nerves, but more often than not, he’d hum that soft melody directly to my stomach, the sound of his voice echoing throughout my broken heart. Everyone kept the thoughts of Loki as far away as possible, and I was more focused on making sure my baby survived this delivery. Aside from the little walks that left me soaked from the rain, I was coaxed back into the bed where I stayed the majority of the time. I begged for the windows to be open even with the storm raging on. Frigga helped me change into dry clothes each time I ventured outside, but if I had it my way, I’d be giving birth to my child in the nature I fell so in love with. I wanted my baby to smell the sweetness of the air, feel the crispness of it as it filled his or her lungs. I wanted my baby to hear the rustling of the leaves and the vibrations of life just as I had. I wanted those to be his or her first experiences in this world, but no matter what, I wanted them to experience the world. I had to do what was best for my child, and giving birth to him or her in the wild wasn’t in the cards for me without the proper planning. I hadn’t planned much of anything, though, as the sudden nature of this was definitely a surprise.

I gritted my teeth, the pressure building in my abdomen, back, and thighs. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to breathe through the contraction, but the pain turned sharp, and I let out a yell. Thunder cracked in the sky as the house quaked. I squeezed Ephinea’s hand as the yell died into a groan, “after all this time with no training, and you’re stronger than ever,” she joked, a smile spreading across that angelic face.

I snorted once the contraction died away again, the discomfort lingering there, “do you remember the time when Thor and I were training together, and you wanted to learn one of the maneuvers. I walked you through it, and he offered to spar with you as long as you didn’t actually hit him?” I asked, remembering a time that seemed so long ago.

She nodded, the laughter never leaving her eyes, “and that was the first thing I did!” she remembered aloud, the memory causing us both to laugh as Frigga lifted the skirt of my nightgown to examine me. She continued, “he wouldn’t spar with me for months after that!”

“You kicked the prince of Asgard in the face!” I laughed, defending his reasoning for not wishing to spar with her. We were all the closest of friends, and Thor took it as it was: an accident. However, as a running joke, he’d offer up anyone else to spar with her in order to get out of it. Every time she’d walk by him, he’d playfully flinch away from her, which would always elicit a laugh from us.

She rolled her eyes, “I did apologize!”

“After kicking him in the f-”

Another contraction cut me off. They were happening much more frequently, and they were lasting longer. I squeezed my eyes shut and managed to swallow the yell of pain. Instead, it manifested itself into a strained exhale, covered up by the thunder cracking outside once more. The rain offered a constant diversion. Instead of focusing on the pain, I focused on the noise, the incessant beating of the rain on the roof. After a few labored breaths and a squeeze of Ephinea’s hand, the pressure subsided once more, “you’re doing so well,” Ephinea murmured, reaching up to place the dampened washcloth on my forehead to help cool me. It felt like it sizzled against my fiery hot skin, but it helped relax me.

“During this next contraction, Eva, I want you to take a deep breath when it starts to peak and then push with all you have, understand?” Frigga asked, her hand grasping my ankle to offer her support from where she was positioned at the foot of the bed.

That was when it truly hit me. Even in a room filled with the people who loved me the most, there was someone missing, someone who should’ve been present. Loki. I hadn’t thought much of his absence until that very moment when it sunk in that I would shortly be meeting our child. It finally dawned on me that the little life we created, the little life we spoke of on countless occasions, was about to be brought into the world, and I was the only one who was going to witness it. This was all wrong. I always dreamed of this day, but it was always with him at my side, laying in the bed next to me and holding my hand as he whispered sweet nothings into my ear and against my stomach, urging our child to join us in the world. In that moment, it finally occurred to me that those dreams were all I would ever have. Loki and I would only have this one child. We’d have no more, and there would be no more chances. The chances were spent. He was gone. The father of my baby...was dead.

I shook my head, tears immediately beginning to stream down my cheeks, “I’m not supposed to do this alone. It was never supposed to be this way. I need Loki!” I cried, not ready for another contraction, not ready to be alone in this world, not ready to be a mother. Then, as if she could hear me, a voice spoke only to me, her voice echoing throughout my heart. I could often hear the planet below me when I felt the connection to her. Asgard and Earth had very distinct voices, but this one was the disembodied voice of life itself. I didn’t have to ask or receive an answer. I knew this voice as if it had always been a part of me. The very essence of life was what I was so deeply connected to all my life, and she finally spoke her encouraging words to me.

You are ready.

Her words left me rejuvenated. They were invigorating and prepared me for whatever was to come. As Ephinea squeezed my hand, my tears dried almost immediately. The moment was going to be bittersweet, but it was going to be beautiful nonetheless. I was going to welcome into the world a child that would be the final piece of Loki I would have, and I would raise him or her to know of their father, to know the man he once was, to teach our child to be like the man I knew him to be. I would have time to mourn him, but I couldn’t follow him just yet. I knew how devastated he would be to know that I left our child alone in the world, how disappointed he would be to know that I committed such a selfish act just to follow him into the abyss. The voice of my closest friend rang out, pulling me from my thoughts, “you have never been and never will be alone, Eva. We’re all here for you, and I’d like to think I knew Loki well enough to say that he’d be where I am if he could. When you give birth to this baby, this world will know him again,” she encouraged me, tears filling her eyes as she spoke of a man we were all so close to.

My eyes met my father’s worried deep brown ones. We had both tried to prepare for this, but the concept of childbirth frightened him. It was something none of us were prepared for, since the stakes were so high in this. This was my first child, I was keeping it a secret and didn’t have the same extensive care that other Asgardian women had, and I had gone into labor much earlier than I had anticipated. When our eyes locked, he put on the most sincere smile he could offer in his time of mourning and worry, “it’s time,” I murmured the words he had been waiting for. He gave a curt nod of his head and walked over to the door, opening it to invite Sif, Thor, and Hjalmar into the room. Before going into labor, the decision of having a crowded room was still up in the air, but I wanted my child to be surrounded with as much love and affection as possible in their first moments. The men and women I had in the room would be the people who would love her all her life.

When Thor, Hjalmar, and Sif entered the room, I gestured for Sif and Ephinea to sit on the bed with me. Ephinea pulled herself from the floor and sat at my side, her hand never leaving my own. Sif sat on my other side, intertwining our fingers for what she knew was to come. I gazed up at her, and she smiled, “up until this very moment, I thought a person had to be on the battlefield to be a strong warrior. You have proved me wrong,” she stated, that flawless smile reaching her eyes that glowed like the reflection of the moon on the ocean.

Giving Sif’s hand a gentle squeeze, I turned my gaze over to Frigga. My father waited at the foot of the bed with her while Thor and Hjalmar stood quietly by the side of the bed that Sif was on. It looked as if they were both ready to jump into action the moment I showed any ounce of pain, both of them believing that they could somehow fight off the unyielding onslaught that childbirth was putting on my body. Frigga’s eyes lightened as soon as ours met, and within her, I could hear the words that she didn’t even need to speak. She believed in me. This was something that millions of women across the universe have done before me, and I wouldn’t be the last. I gave a slight nod of my head, accepting the pain that was to come, knowing that the payment I would receive would be the life of my beautiful baby. Nova...or Aurora. Just thinking of those names made me smile, made my broken heart lighten, “I’m ready,” I remarked, preparing myself for the future that was right in front of me.

With that, another contraction began to build up, the pressure becoming more and more intense each second. I squeezed Ephinea and Sif’s hand as Frigga moved down to the foot of the bed, ready to help me deliver the baby. My father sat beside her with a cloth in hand to clean him or her and wrap them up before handing them to me, “alright, Eva, take a deep breath and push through that pain,” she instructed me, so I did as she said. I took a deep breath and bared down, using Sif and Ephinea as my strong foundation. The pushing didn’t last as long as the rest of it. After less than eight rounds of pushing, it was over. By the time I felt that sweet release, I let out a long breath, truly astonished that I had done something that seemed so groundbreaking.

That was...until silence fell in the room.

There was no little cry, no joyous words being spoken. There was nothing.

My eyes darted around the room, staring at the solemn faces as Ephinea patted my head with the damp cloth. Frigga’s back was turned to me, facing my father, and I wondered if I had simply lost my hearing. When she turned around to face me, a motionless bundle in her arms, that little creak in the floor let me know that I hadn’t lost my hearing, “it’s a little girl, but...Eva-”

A girl.

“Give her to me,” I demanded, not willing to accept losing both Loki and our child. I couldn’t do it. I reached out for her, wanting to hold her, wanting to give her the gift that I never deserved in the first place. When Frigga didn’t move, the anger began to build up within me, and the cottage began to quake once more, “give her...to me,” I stressed, my voice cracked as I wondered what death would feel like. I’d never been afraid of it until that very moment, until I realized that one of us wouldn’t live through this.

Frigga closed the space between us, “I’m so sorry, my beautiful child,” she whispered, her bottom lip quivering as she was forced to mourn her son and her first born grandchild all at once.

As she handed her to me, I held that tiny, lifeless little body against my own, and I smiled at that raven black hair. It was darker than Loki’s had been. The tears I shed-the tears that blurred my view of her beautiful little face-were not for her, they were for all that I would miss. I would miss the woman she would grow into, the life she would lead, the way her eyes would light up like the sun. I would never know the sound of her laugh. I’d never be able to teach her the stories of the forest or the songs that the trees loved to hear, but at least she would live to discover the world and spread the unconditional love I had for her from the moment I discovered I was expecting, “I love you so much, little one,” I whispered before beginning to transfer over to her the essence that kept me alive all this time. I had healed wounds before by transferring them over to myself, so why wouldn’t this work the same way? Her life at the cost of mine. It was a trade I was more than willing to make.

My father fell to his knees at the side of my bed as the room became darker, the storm continuing to rage on, “please, please just...take me instead,” he begged, his hand clasping around my wrist as desperation filled his eyes.

While I had transferred wounds from one to another, I wouldn’t take the life of my father. My life was the one that needed to be traded for hers. I shook my head, “this is my gift to my child. Tell her stories of us. Never let her forget how much I loved her, and speak nothing but kind words of her father. Remind her that she was the best gift life could give me, a little princess that I had the honor of holding...even for just a moment. Tell her that my final act in this world was one of pure...unconditional love, and tell her that the only regret I have...is that we had only moments together,” I insisted, reaching out to hold his hand as the tears cascaded down his cheeks, “promise me that she’ll know nothing but love just as I did. Promise me that she’ll be protected and live a life of laughter and wonder. Promise me that she’ll be the strongest warrior Asgard has ever known, but she’ll cherish even the lives of her enemies. Promise me that she’ll be everything I was and everything I failed to be.”

He sniffled, knowing that there was no way I would change my mind. His bottom lip quivered as he tried to collect himself enough to speak, “I promise that I’ll give her the world, little wolf,” he murmured, his voice cracking. I didn’t want to put him through the pain of losing me, but my daughter deserved to know the beauty of life, and deep down, he understood my sacrifice because he would’ve made the same one. He failed at holding the tears back, “so you run out into that endless forest and feel the wind in your hair. You have fought well; you deserve to rest.”

I continued to transfer my life essence into her, my body becoming weaker and weaker with each passing second, the room becoming darker and darker. I smiled down at her little body in my arms, color filling her cheeks, and I hummed the melody that I knew from a time I couldn’t remember, “now, the stars shine brightest wherever you are, and they will shine on me no more,” I sang before the darkness swallowed me.

When I opened my eyes, I saw black ones staring straight back at me. They were familiar-sad. As her face faded into view, I didn’t recognize her, but my heart knew her, like an old forgotten song, “not...yet…” she whispered before I felt her gentle hands on my shoulders. I knew her touch. I knew this woman. Death. She smiled a smile that made my heart cry out into the void. Somehow, I felt even more comfortable in her presence than I did in my father’s strong arms as a child, which I thought to be impossible. Then, as I heard the echo of a baby crying in the distance, she shoved me back, and I fell like in a dream, my body jerking back to life as I sucked in a long breath.

Ephinea threw her arms around me, still being sat at my side, “oh, Gods, Eva! What happened?” she cried, her warm tears wetting my shoulder.

“I...don’t know,” I whispered, gazing around the room at the wet faces of the ones I loved, the ones I nearly left behind, the ones whose happiness I would’ve sacrificed for my daughter. It was worth it. Even as I stared Death in the eyes, I knew that the sacrifice was well worth it. I would’ve sacrificed everything, every ounce of who I was, for her. While I held Ephinea, I found my father’s hopeful ones as he held my little princess in his arms. Pressing a kiss into Ephinea’s hair, I pulled away from her and rested my forehead against hers, pouring out a part of my heart for her. When she pulled away, crawling over into Hjalmar’s arms, a man she had taken a liking to when we were still in our youth, I turned to my father and held my arms out for the newest little Asgardian. The storm-in the time I had been gone-had ended, and the sky outside was beginning to brighten, the clouds not daring to cover the sun when it peaked over the horizon. As soon as Father handed her over to me, I gazed down at her, little green eyes staring back at me as the beauty of the world became more vivid than ever before. In that moment, there was a love I never could’ve imagined that stared right into my eyes.

Her.

The light of the morning sun filling the room as it showed itself on the horizon. The vibrant hues of yellow, orange, and light blue chased away the darkness of the night, the colors reaching through the trees and finding the two of us. The storm had parted for her, the darkness had lifted for her, the sun rose for her, I lived...for her. Seeing her face brightened every darkened corner of my tortured heart. She was exactly what Loki and I had dreamed of. She had his black hair, and she had my green eyes. I saw myself in them, and I suddenly felt complete even as a piece of me went missing months ago when Loki left. She was my miracle, my awakening, the start of my new life, “I’ve been waiting for you, little one,” I whispered, tears of absolute, unbridled joy cascading down my cheeks as I looked upon the little life that was more beautiful than life itself, “and you’ll be known as Aurora...the dawn of a new day.”

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