Chapter Text
When the sky split open above New York, spilling forth alien creatures from the other side of the universe and the city around her had descended into chaos, all Reagan could think was, "I should never have visited Norway."
It had been a reward to herself for graduating college; her solo trip abroad. She had put the hard yards in, scrimping and saving, working two jobs and all the while, studying into the early hours of the morning, night after night, to maintain her grades. Four long years of hard work had finally come to an end and all she'd wanted was to indulge in that aching need to see some small fragment of the world before she got lost in a career, a relationship, maybe even a family. Just a little bit of adventure before she settled comfortably into normalcy.
As it would turn out, normalcy was the last thing that awaited her.
Reagan had chosen Norway in the hope to connect to her roots. She'd known it was where her ancestors had come from before migrating over to America, but in truth, she knew precious little about her heritage. Only a few years earlier, she'd had no interest in finding out. Rather, it had always been her mother's dream to travel to Norway. She'd never gotten the chance. Reagan had hoped the trip might help her to feel more connected to her after her passing. And for a fleeting moment, she had achieved exactly that, or so she'd thought.
It had happened on a frost-bitten night alone beneath the Aurora Borealis, in a country that was not her own, yet where she sorely wanted to feel like she belonged. She'd had her arms wrapped tightly around herself in an attempt to stave off the chill in the air, and as she watched the strange, beautiful lights dance above her, a warm presence had washed over her. It had felt safe and comfortable and strangely familiar. She had smiled, thinking perhaps it was her mother looking down on her, letting her know she was there with her. At that moment, the northern lights had seemed to ripple and shine more vividly, and she'd thought vaguely that it was probably just her imagination getting carried away in the moment.
Until she'd noticed the ground beneath her feet.
A rich, orange glow pulsed underneath her, steadily growing brighter second by second. She had taken a step back, uncertain of what she was seeing, but the light moved with her as if it were her own shadow. Panic gripped her as brilliant golden veins of light seeped out around her like roots. Blindingly bright and seemingly drawing energy from the earth below, connecting her to it. Before long, the tendrils of light laced their way up her feet, up her legs, travelling up her torso, and it spread until her entire body was encapsulated with an overwhelming hum of power. The air had rushed out of her and heat - scorching heat - had filled her until it was almost unbearable. She had tried to run. She had tried to scream. But whatever this strange force was, its hold on her was unshakable. The last thing she remembered before blacking out was a strange voice whispering words to her in a language she didn't understand, as flames had burst to life over every inch of her skin.
When she had come to, the sun had risen. She had looked around herself, disconcerted. She was alone, in the hills of Norway, a wide circle of scorched earth surrounded her, bordered by thick snow. She looked down at herself and a strangled cry escaped her chest. She was stark naked and covered in ash, but that was far from what shocked her. Brilliant flames licked and curled and danced their way up and down her entire body, yet they did not burn her. She lifted her trembling hands to her eyes and watched as her skin glowed and the fire surrounding her palms ebbed and flowed. Slowly, she had stood, the flames dancing over every inch of her. Her hair ebbed within the firelight, moving as if it were underwater.
She'd been alone and afraid and with no clue of what had happened or what to do. Reagan had no choice but to trudge back towards the town barefoot, nude and completely engulfed in flames. With every step, the panic had risen and with it, the fire. Tears flowed down her cheeks and she tried to cover her naked chest with her arms as she cried out, desperate for help.
People had screamed when they'd seen her. Even as she had reached out her hands and begged for help, they had called her 'demon.' They'd run from her. Some had even thrown things. And still, the flames had grown higher.
When SHIELD had finally been called in, half the mountainside had been set alight. Reagan had unwittingly set fire to more than half the buildings in that small Norwegian town, and the few townsfolk who had remained behind had abandoned any attempt to quell the flames which engulfed her body, focusing instead on desperate attempts to save their burning homes.
Reagan had sat, curled helplessly into a ball, in the town square, begging for someone - anyone - to make it stop when SHIELD agents had descended upon her. They had dowsed her in liquid nitrogen, at last extinguishing the flames and with that, she had slipped into unconsciousness. She'd awoken days later in a glass cell, a drip embedded in her arm, feeding her a cocktail of drugs to keep her sedated.
Nick Fury stood at the end of her bed, stoic, foreboding. His one good eye fixed resolutely upon her.
"You mind explaining to me what the hell that was?" He'd asked her.
Fresh tears had welled in her eyes. "Did I kill anyone?" Reagan managed to whimper.
Fury was silent for a few moments, he studied the way she squeezed her eyes shut, in dread of what his answer might be.
"No, you didn't kill anyone," he said, at last, taking pity on her and she let loose a heavy sob of relief. "We had to evac a lot of people to nearby hospitals though. Whole lotta injuries. Whole lotta burns."
"I'm sorry," she murmured, looking up at him. "I didn't know what to do. I just- I needed help. I didn't know how to stop it."
"And what is it exactly?"
With a dry throat, Reagan told him her story - the presence she had felt, waking up to find herself engulfed in flames. It was safe to say that once she was finished, Fury was less than satisfied with the amount of information she was able to give him. He'd had Reagan indicate on a map the area of the mountainside where the phenomenon had occurred. The area had been quarantined and SHIELD's science division was set to work, running every test they could think of. Reagan had consented to the tests they wanted to run on her as well.
"Do whatever you need to do," she had told them, as she scrawled her signature across form after form. "Just please figure out how to get it out of me."
Days had rolled into weeks and into months, and no progress seemed to be made. She'd been poked, stabbed and prodded in every way imaginable. Not once did she complain. Not until they'd asked her to try and conjure the flames again.
"I won't," she'd told them, adamantly.
It took a long time for Fury to get through to her. To convince her that if she didn't want to be a victim of whatever this thing was, then she needed to learn to control it. SHIELD had the means, he told her, facilities where she could safely practice unleashing and, in turn, honing her new powers without fear of hurting people. It was that, or a life of sedatives, solitude and fear.
And so, her training had begun.
Only four years had passed since then, but it felt like a lifetime. And now suddenly there she stood, alongside Earth's Mightiest Heroes, the only defence between Loki's army of Chitauri and the people of Earth.
Fury had had his concerns as to whether she was ready - Reagan would have been lying if she'd said she didn't have doubts, herself. But after all the damage Loki had inflicted, they had no choice but to come at him with everything they had.
Flames danced between Reagan's fingertips as she stared up at the portal once more. She clenched her fists and set her shoulders, ready to set the world on fire.
Reagan tried to ignore the smell of burning flesh filling the air as she drew on the well of power deep within her chest to launch another blast of flames at the approaching Chitauri. The creatures shrieked in pain as they were engulfed in fire and fell from the sky.
Standing atop Stark Tower, she glanced over her shoulder to see Natasha Romanov helping Erik Selvig to his feet. She couldn't hear what was being said as she sent another blast of flames at yet another incoming attacker, but she looked over just in time to see Natasha's eye grow wide.
"Cover me!" Natasha shouted over the roar of battle below, as she bolted for the sceptre - their only chance of closing the portal.
Reagan's hair licked around her shoulders like flames themselves and she summoned forth another burst of energy to keep the aliens clear of Natasha's path. She could feel the fabric covering her arms beginning to crackle and break down under the force of her fire, despite the years of work SHIELD's science divisions had put into making her uniform flame retardant.
When the portal closed at last and the Chitauri fell lifeless throughout the city, Natasha had thrown her arms around Reagan as they laughed joyously in celebration - that had shocked Reagan more than the existence of those strange and terrifying aliens ever could.
Even after the Chitauri had been defeated, and Stark had survived his fall back through the portal, Reagan still didn't allow herself to breathe a sigh of relief until she watched Thor finally clasp the shackles around Loki's wrists. The moment she heard them 'click' shut, the tension that had coiled its way up her spine seemed to unfurl. It felt like an ending; like they were finally finished. She turned away and trudged towards Tony's bar.
The battle had been intense and draining, and she graciously took the large glass of scotch Clint Barton offered to her as she approached. It crossed her mind briefly that it might just be the most expensive glass of alcohol she'd ever drink in her life. She swallowed it in two large gulps.
"'Atta girl," Clint said with a smile, before throwing back his own.
They leaned against the bar, side by side, watching as the STRIKE team and SHIELD agents filed into the room to secure the sceptre. Clint poured each of them a second-round and Reagan accepted it, fully intending to drink it slower than the first. Already, she could feel a comfortable warmth soaking through her chest and her nerves begin to ease if only a little.
Yet even as she tried to relax, her mind shifted back to Loki. It was as if he were a magnet, a black hole, sucking everything in the room towards him. His presence seemed overbearing - suffocating - as if he were the only other person in the room with her. She could hardly stand it.
Almost involuntarily, Reagan's eyes drifted towards him, and she was mildly surprised to see his gaze was already resting on her. A chill ran down her spine and a knowing smirk pulled at his lips, almost as though he could sense her fear. That strange magnetic surge seemed to pulsate off him again. It felt like something had hooked in behind her navel, determined to reel her in closer. She shivered and tried to shake the feeling off as her stomach clenched uneasily. Barton, who had pointedly been avoiding paying any attention to the trickster, picked up on her discomfort and moved closer to her.
"Hey," he said as he gave her an affectionate flick on the arm. "Ignore him. He's done all the damage he's going to do. As soon as Thunderpants gets him out of here, he'll be nothing but an unpleasant memory."
Reagan nodded, nursing her scotch up close to her lips. Her eyes were still trained and distrustful upon the so-called god. Another pulse rolled over her. She huffed and turned her back to him. The action set the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end, and fight or flight responses rose in her, warning her not to turn her back on a predator, but she couldn't stand to look at him anymore. And a small, secret part of her didn't want him to think she was afraid. The pulse came again.
"How is he doing that?" She muttered in frustration, more to herself than to Clint.
"Doing what?"
Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, and she glanced at the archer. "You don't feel it? That... pull? Like he's trying to draw us all in?"
Barton studied her before he glanced Loki's way. "No, I don't."
"Well, I don't like it." She downed the last of her scotch and set her glass down hard on the countertop. "It's creepy."
"Yeah, well, he is a creep." Clint agreed.
Reagan knew he was trying to sound light-hearted, but there was something heavier laced in his words. She couldn't imagine how he must have felt after waking up from Loki's control. Knowing he'd tried to hurt people he cared about. Knowing the secrets he must have readily given away. She knew deep down that he felt like a traitor, and that was the last thing she'd ever think of Clint Barton as. Neither she nor Nat would have ever accepted it. Sympathy swelled in her chest.
"You should have seen what Hulk did to him," she smirked sideways at Clint, in an attempt to cheer him up. "Swung him around like a damn rag doll. If I hadn't been so worried that we were all about to die, it would have been hysterical."
Clint huffed out a small laugh. "Yeah, I'm sorry I missed it."
They fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments before she spoke once more.
"What's going to happen to him now?" she murmured to him.
"Hopefully, Asgard has some reinforced prison cell that he can rot away in somewhere," Nat answered as she approached. She placed her own empty glass down on the bar and cocked her head towards the elevator. "Let's get going. Stark's insisting on heading to that shawarma place a few blocks over."
"Do they serve booze?" Clint asked as they made their way toward the elevator
Reagan offered Hulk a sympathetic smile as he was turned away from the already-full elevator, the doors closed between them, forcing him to take the stairs. There was just no way the green giant was going to fit, not with the two Asgardians, Stark, Natasha and Reagan already piled in, along with a STRIKE team running point on them until Thor and Loki took their leave. Reagan stood beside the two gods, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling as she was keenly aware of the way Loki's eyes seemed to fix on her. And, stranger still, the way he seemed to want to keep his distance from her. The elevator began its descent and Nat let out a low grunt of discomfort.
Reagan glanced her way.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
Nat nodded and rolled her shoulder a little, pressing her fingers into the joint.
"Yeah, it's nothing. One of those freaks slammed into me a little harder than I was ready for."
She stretched her arm out, moving it around experimentally.
It was an accident.
Reagan didn't mean to touch him - hadn't wanted to touch him. She was just trying to step aside to make a little more space for Nat to stretch when her arm had brushed gently against Loki's.
That was all it took. Suddenly, she wasn't alone in her own head anymore.
The pair of them jolted at the contact. A deep surge of electric energy passed between them that instantly sizzled down into her bones. Reagan's head began to swarm with new thoughts, feelings, images - things that were not her own. Whole and fragmented. Linear and shattered. Soft as a whisper and deafeningly loud. Lights. Colours. Flashes. It was an assault like no other she had ever experienced. The magnetic presence that she had sensed pulsating off of Loki earlier now seemed to come from where he stood beside her and from within her own mind, all at once. It was more than magnetic, it was... gravitational. Tethering her. Suffocating her. Consuming her.
What is this? Loki's voice sounded in her mind as clearly as if it were her own. How are you doing this?
Reagan rounded on him, clutching at her temples. She was barely able to keep her vision straight with invading onslaught happening within her own mind. She glared daggers at him through tear-rimmed eyes, too overwhelmed to notice the way Loki's own eyes were fixed on hers, wide and panicked.
"What are you doing? What the hell are you doing to me?!" She hissed, flames bursting to life over every inch of her skin as she forced herself to stand tall to face him, fighting against the storm raging within her own head.
Chaos erupted. SHIELD agents drew their weapons. Tony and Nat attempted to pull her back but with her whole body set aflame, she was impossible to touch. Thor thrust Mjölnir into Loki's chest, pushing him forcefully against the wall.
"Get out of my head!" She shouted and power swelled up within her uncontrollably.
The elevator gave a violent jolt as energy rolled out of her, and the temperature within the confined space rose rapidly. There was a loud lurch of metal on metal as the elevator rocked once more and came to a jarring halt.
"Reagan!" Nat shouted desperately as she braced herself against the elevator wall, cringing away from the suffocating heat. "Reagan, you have to calm down or you're going to roast us all alive!"
That seemed to shake Reagan back to reality and she realised she was engulfed in flames. Everyone had pressed themselves up against the walls of the elevator wall, save for Thor who stood between Loki and Reagan, trying to keep any fight that might erupt at bay. Reagan breathed in a shaky breath and forced herself to quell the flames.
"He's in my head!" she snarled through gritted teeth, fighting to force out the images of him, the presence of him from her mind. This was nothing like what Clint had described to them, but that didn't matter, all that did matter was that she wouldn't allow him to use her. She wouldn't be the weapon he wielded to hurt her friends.
This is your doing, witch. His voice echoed through her mind once more and she snarled at him.
"Loki, stop this!" Thor ordered, glaring at his brother.
Loki had been staring at Reagan, unblinking, as the chaos unfolded around them in the confined space of the Stark Tower elevator. Muzzled and unable to respond, Loki's eyes shot to Thor's and he quickly shook his head. The only indicator that he could offer that this was not, in fact, his doing. His eyes met hers again and she felt hate surge forth from him, invading her mind. But not just hate, she realised. There was panic there too, a panic that matched her own.
How are you doing this?
Though no one else seemed to, Reagan heard the words inside her head once again as clear as day.
"Shut up! Get out of my head!"
Filthy mortal. This is your doing, not mine!
"This isn't me!" She shot back at him, incredulously.
"Whoa, what the hell is that?" Stark's voice cut through the atmosphere as he gestured at Reagan's forearm.
Reagan glanced down to see golden light bursting through the crackled fabric of her burned sleeve. She tore away the frail, singed fabric from her right arm, the same arm which had brushed against Loki's, and blinding light burst from her skin, filling the room. They all had to shield their eyes from the light and though Reagan braced herself for pain, none came. Soon the light dulled and she was able to open her eyes again. When Reagan looked to inspect her skin for any damage, her eyes widened. There were markings there emblazoned upon her skin - a tattoo she had never seen before.
No, not a tattoo, Reagan thought. After all, she had plenty of those. This was something different.
It was a cuff of intricate markings. Symbols - runes - that Regan didn't recognise. They were impossibly delicate, interwoven into each other in a thousand, thousand different ways. The entire marking held a strange pearlescent mix of deep purples and greens which shifted and swirled as Reagan adjusted the angle of her arm. She realised too, that it reflected gold when it caught the light in just the right way. Even in that moment of confusion, Reagan couldn't help but think of it as strangely beautiful. And though she was certain she'd never seen the markings before there something so familiar about it.
She rubbed at the markings as if it might cause them to smudge or fade. They only glimmered stubbornly in the changing angles of light.
"It won't come off," she muttered, trying to stay calm. "What is it? What's he done to me?"
Thor moved towards her and took a gentle hold of her forearm, he ran his thumb over the strange markings. It seemed to break her from her trance. She looked up at him, waiting eagerly for answers but something uncomfortable began to knot in her gut when she saw the look on his face. Thor looked... afraid. He studied her arm for what felt like an eternity, everyone else just stood and watched, unsure of what to do. Reagan's heart thundered in her chest. She was certain they could all hear it. She was certain Loki could.
"This is not Loki's doing," he said barely loud enough for Reagan to hear it, lost in thought. "This is ancient magic. Magic I thought to no longer exist."
Still holding onto her arm, he turned to look at his brother. Loki's eyes, which had been glued to the patterns on her arm, shifted suddenly to meet Thor's. A strange, unspoken understanding passed between the pair. Thor, at last, let go of Reagan and moved towards Loki, taking hold of his arm instead. Loki did not resist as Thor pulled back his sleeve, and neither seemed surprised to find an identical marking adorning his pale forearm. Reagan felt his pure dread, spiralling down the strange new link between them.
If it were possible, her heart began to beat even faster. "What is it?"
Thor didn't respond to her question. He looked Loki in the eye once more. His entire demeanour towards his brother had shifted into something unreadable.
"It's another one of his spells, right?" Natasha asked, trying to draw his attention away from Loki and back to Reagan.
"No, not this," Thor responded slowly. He turned to Reagan once again, his eyes darkening. "You need to come with us, to Asgard. This is something Odin needs to see."
The elevator then hummed back to life and began its descent once again.
"Why?" Reagan asked, her voice strained.
"I will explain everything once we reach Asgard. For now, we need to go."
This can't be happening. Loki's voice sounded in her mind once more.
The elevator doors opened at last at the ground level, and Thor pulled Loki towards the exit. A sense of urgency now hung in the air and Reagan felt nausea begin to brew in the pit of her stomach. Captain America had been waiting for them, along with an assortment of SHIELD agents. His eyes fell on Reagan immediately, and she assumed he'd already been alerted as to what had just unfolded. Thor approached him and in hushed voices the pair exchanged words. Cap pulled back to meet Thor's eye, he studied him silently before he nodded. That seemed to be all Thor needed. He turned instantly towards Reagan and beckoned her forward.
"We must go at once," he told her, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back as he ushered her towards the door. He pulled Loki along by the shackles behind them.
Reagan felt resentment roll down the link and fleetingly she heard his voice again, though it seemed foggier and further away.
Not his to touch.
Her eyes flickered to him, unsure of what that was supposed to mean, but he would not look her way.
"Hey!" she heard Nat call from behind her as they hurried out of the building. "Hey! Big guy!"
Thor slowed and turned to face her, his hand still on Reagan, as if he was nervous she might bolt if her didn't keep his hold on her.
Nat came to stand in front of him, squaring her shoulders resolutely as she stared up at the God of Thunder who towered over her.
"You listen to me. You don't let anything happen to her, do you understand me?" Her eyes flicked from Thor to Loki with a distrustful glance, and then back again.
Thor nodded. "She will be under my protection." He assured Natasha.
Reagan reached out and squeezed Nat's hand quickly, reassuringly. "I'll see you soon." She promised, feigning confidence. Yet even as she said the words, she felt a sense of dread that it was far from the truth.
Without any more hesitation, Thor wrapped a strong arm around her waist and pulled her close, securing her to his side. Reagan couldn't be sure but she thought for a moment she caught Loki scowling at the action.
The world then shifted around her into a rush of vibrant colours and the ground fell away beneath her feet as the Bifrost carried them away from Earth, towards Asgard.
What remained of the Avengers team stood in a circle, staring at the empty pavement where Reagan and the two Asgardians had disappeared in a brilliant blur of light. Heaviness hung in the air, uncertainty about what her fate might be and what the strange matching markings had meant.
"Okay, but," Tony Stark began after a few beats of silence. "The rest of us are still on for shawarma though, right?"
Chapter Text
One moment the universe was rushing past Reagan in a brilliant blur of lights and colour and the next she was standing within a great golden dome, a cool ocean-like breeze kissing against her skin. As soon as their feet were on solid ground again, Thor released his grip on her and Reagan stumbled, disoriented and breathless. She clutched at her stomach and groaned softly as a sudden wave of nausea moved through her.
"Bifrost travel can be a difficult experience for those who are unfamiliar with it." Reagan turned in the direction of the deep voice to find a large man with strange golden eyes watching her. "The illness should pass soon enough. Welcome to Asgard, Reagan Matthews."
"How do you know my name?" she asked, trying to distract herself from the lurching feeling in her gut.
"Heimdall sees and hears all within the nine realms," Thor answered for him. "He is the Gatekeeper of Asgard. He knew we were coming."
Heimdall offered Thor something of a smile as they approached one another and clasped hands by way of greeting.
"You did well on Midgard, my Prince," he said. "The King has been made aware of your return. He's sent guards to escort the prisoner." He nodded in Loki's direction.
It's such a pleasure to see you again, too, Heimdall. Loki's voice rang out in Reagan's head again and she cringed away from it.
She walked towards Thor and moved to subtly position herself on the other side of him, using him as somewhat of a human shield. Though it did nothing to dull Loki's invasive presence within her mind, it comforted her a little to know that she was at least obscured from his view. Thor seemed to pick up on her unease and ushered her gently towards the opening of the Bifrost leading towards the city of Asgard.
"Come," he said with a smile. "Allow me to show you my home."
I'm on another planet, she realised suddenly and nervous excitement fluttered in her chest.
When Reagan looked upon Asgard for the first time she managed to forget, if only for a moment, all about Loki. She forgot about the harrowing battle she had just been through and the way that it had left her body aching. She forgot that only a moment earlier she was on the brink of vomiting. She forgot she was afraid. The air rushed out of her lungs as she emerged from the golden dome and stared out at a backdrop of snow-capped mountains and the towering empire of Asgard. It was overwhelmingly beautiful and Reagan was mildly surprised when a lump formed in her throat at the sight. Every curve of the great buildings caught the light, shining gloriously beneath a bright sun and a horizon rimmed with stars. There were statues of warriors made from stone and copper and gold which stood taller than Stark Tower. Over the great body of water that stood between her and the mighty city, jutted a grand bridge that glimmered in every colour she could imagine. Reagan thought perhaps it was made of glass and something... more. Something magic. She turned around to see the water cascading over the edge of the world. She felt an aching urge to stand there and peer over the edge, wondering how far her eyes would allow her to see out into the universe. As she took a step closer to the edge of the bridge in an attempt to get a better view of the drop, it occurred to her that the bridge had no railings.
That seems like a serious safety violation, she thought idly, and felt Loki roll his eyes down the link in response.
Stupid mortal.
Just like that, the moment was over and she was left feeling bitter once again. Reagan scowled but forced herself not to respond. She wanted to engage with him as little as she possibly could until whatever linked her to him was undone. It couldn't happen soon enough as far as she was concerned.
She followed Thor as he made his way towards the two transport pods which awaited them along with a dozen soldiers, all clad in golden armour. They straightened as Thor approached them and offered him a salute.
"Welcome back, Your Highness," one of them spoke. "Permission to take the prisoner into custody? The King would see him alone."
Thor nodded his permission, handing over the chains which bound Loki. Two of the soldiers went to work securing extra shackles around Loki's ankles and then his throat.
"Inform Odin that I need to speak to him urgently, it seems another complication arose while I was in Midgard."
Thor stepped up into the nearest pod and reached back to help Reagan climb aboard. As she took his outstretched hand and climbed up into the pod along with him, she felt a pang of annoyance from Loki down the link but once again refused to acknowledge him. To her relief, he and the soldiers who now surrounded him climbed into the second pod before they sped off, heading towards the city.
Reagan sat waiting in a hallway adjoining the Throne Room as Loki was taken before the King. Thor positioned himself by the doorway looking deeply pensive as he slowly paced back and forth. He cast intermittent glances in Reagan's direction and discomfort began to grow within her. At first, she'd thought Thor had been keeping close to her to protect her, to reassure her that everything would be alright. After all, they were a team, weren't they? Admittedly, they hadn't been one for long, but they'd fought well together against the Chitauri. He hadn't been afraid of what she could do and it had been a refreshing change after years of mistrust since gaining her powers. She'd liked him. But she was beginning to think now that he was remaining so close to her not for her benefit, but to keep tabs on her. Whatever this strange link was between her and Loki, it had made him unsure of her. Of her motives. Of where her loyalties might lie. She felt unclean as he tried another subtle glance in her direction, tainted.
"Hello, mother. Have I made you proud?"
Reagan gritted her teeth as flashes of Loki's conversation invaded her mind. It was one thing to hear him in her head when she'd been in the same room as him, but now, separated by distance and stone walls, unease grew in her again. How could they still hear each other? Why could they hear each other?
"It's beautiful here," Reagan said to Thor, at last, trying to distract herself. "It's like nothing I ever could have imagined."
Thor smiled at her. "You should feel blessed. You're the first Midgardian to set foot in Asgard in centuries."
Reagan let out a short laugh as another echo of Loki's conversation rang in her head again; I really don't see what all the fuss is about.
"Yeah, trust me, 'blessed' is the last thing I'm feeling right now," she told him, pressing her fingertips into her temples.
Thor looked at her then, really looked, and she thought she might have seen a small amount of sympathy in his eyes.
"It felt strange, to be in Midgard again," he told her. "We've been stranded in Asgard for some time now since Loki destroyed the Bifrost, cut off from the other Realms. We rebuilt it in hopes that we could harness enough power to make it functional again, now with the Tesseract we can do just that, and restore order to the Nine Realms."
"I thought you said no good could come from using that thing."
"Not in Midgard, but here it can be a tool for good if harnessed by one wise enough to wield it carefully."
"You mean your father?"
"Yes, Odin has wielded such power before, and it brought peace to the realms. He'll do it once more if it's what is necessary."
Reagan nodded at that, gazing out the window at the strange and beautiful rainbow bridge.
Frigga is the only reason you are still alive and you will never see her again.
The voice sounded in her mind like an echo, a voice she assumed was Odin. She flinched at the sting Loki seemed to feel as those words were spoken. Sadness - a deep hurt - that was not her own welled suddenly in her chest and for a moment she couldn't quite bring herself to shake it away. It felt important that it was there. Until she remembered who exactly she was trying to shoulder the burden for.
"How many people live on Asgard?" she asked, still desperate to make conversation to distract herself.
Thor suddenly seemed hesitant and Reagan felt her cheeks colour with embarrassment. He doesn't trust me, she realised. He doesn't want to give away information I could use to... to what?
Mercifully, there was a loud bang that cut through the tension in the air as the doors to the Throne Room were thrown open. A guard stepped forth and nodded respectfully to Thor.
"The King will see you now," he said and Thor thanked him.
Thor reached for Reagan and she stood, moving towards him but was careful this time to stay out of arms reach, uncomfortable with the mistrust she was now detecting in him. They made their way into the vast hall and approached the throne, and Reagan was once again left in awe not only at how beautiful it was, but how gargantuan everything was too. An escort of armoured guards at either side of them, and when they reached the King, Thor dropped to one knee respectfully. Reagan gazed up at King Odin and the woman stood beside him and thought they looked familiar to her, before realising that she had seen images of them in Loki's head. She dropped her gaze to focus on Thor instead.
"Father," he said, his head bowed. His voices echoed throughout the throne room right up to the paintings that decorated the high ceilings above them.
"My son," Odin spoke, and Thor rose once again to his feet. "My guards report that you have returned to Asgard with a mortal girl. What is the meaning of this?"
"I ask your forgiveness, father. I had no choice. Her name is Reagan, she fought alongside me and a few other Midgardians of heightened abilities to defeat Loki and his army. She possesses power not seen in other mortals. But that is not why I have brought her before you." Thor gave a short glance in Reagan's direction without meeting her eye before he returned his gaze to Odin. "After the defeat of the Chitauri, when Loki was apprehended, he touched her... they now each possess the Mark of Sjelevii."
The atmosphere shifted instantly as if a dreadful chill had swept throughout the room and Reagan glanced around, confused. Even Odin's soldiers, stoic and unmoving, seemed unable to hold back low murmurs of surprise.
Odin's one eye remained trained, unblinking, on his son. His gaze was so intense that Reagan wondered how Thor managed not to cringe beneath it.
Eventually, Odin spoke. "Are you certain of this?"
"I am."
Odin stood and Frigga moved cautiously towards him. Together, they descended the steps of the Throne and as they approached, Reagan was filled with the urge to run. She curled her toes in her shoes, willing herself to stay put. When Odin, at last, stood face to face with her, much taller than she had thought he was when he was seated on his Throne, she forced herself to meet his gaze.
"Leave us," Odin said, finally, and for a moment, Reagan thought he was talking to her before his guards turned and marched out of the room.
"This power of yours, let me see it," Odin commanded.
Reagan's gaze flicked to Thor momentarily and he nodded his encouragement.
Reagan lifted her hand and allowed it to catch fire. Flames engulfed her fingers, her palm, her forearm. Odin stared into the flames, his features flickering in their light as he studied them. He then raised his hand and ghosted it over Reagan, not quite close enough to touch her fire, but close enough that she worried she might burn him, yet she didn't pull away. She felt her power prickle under his hand as though it was being tugged at by some sort of magnet and she flinched uncomfortably as she realised his magic was inspecting hers. When he was done, he released her and lowered his hand, and Reagan allowed the flames to extinguish.
"And now the marking," Odin said.
Reagan, who had somewhat unconsciously been holding her branded arm behind her back, drew it out slowly and presented it to the King.
"And can you be sure, my son, that this is not just another one of Loki's ploys to deceive us?" Odin asked as he stared down at Reagan's arm.
"It is no trick, father. I saw them forge the bond, myself. Neither of them intended it. He was just as surprised as I was."
"Did the Midgardians understand what it was?"
"No, not one."
"That, at least, is good news."
Frigga took a step toward her, her eyes also trained upon the mark. She moved with such effortless grace and such proud posture that Reagan realised something inside of her desperately wanted the woman's approval.
"May I?" she asked, holding out her hands. Reagan nodded her permission and the Queen took hold of her arm with a gentle grip. Her fingers danced over the marking with a sort of reverence as she stared at it intently. Reagan watched her face for any clue of what she was feeling, but she masked herself well.
"And Loki's is the same?" she asked.
"Yes, identical," Thor replied.
"Will someone please tell me what it means?" Reagan asked finally, frustration was growing within her by the second.
"It is known as the Mark of Sjelevii," Frigga answered at last, and released her arm, though she couldn't seem to fully pull her gaze away from the markings. "They were once common amongst our people. Now, most Asgardians have never seen one of these markings with their own eyes. They were a gift bestowed upon us by an ancient goddess, Kaha. She had the ability to touch a person's soul - to weigh it in her hands and to know its worth. To feel its purity. Legend tells us that she spent her years travelling throughout the realms, touching all the souls she passed, looking for the one that was her equal. She searched for millennia, never giving up hope that she might one day find her match, until at last one day she found her. Her name was Liiva, she had felt a force out there in the universe searching for her. And you see, Liiva had a gift as well, she could make the stars burn brighter, and so she lit a path across the heavens so that the force she knew was searching for her could find her at last. When the pair were united and their hands touched for the first time, Kaha felt such a joy that she let it burst out of her and spread across the galaxy, to all the other souls she had passed throughout her search. Souls she knew belonged together. She gifted them with clues, a longing, a desire to find the soul that equalled theirs. And should they find one another, they would bear the Mark of Sjelevii - the map that Liiva laced amongst the stars so that Kaha might find her at last."
By the time Frigga was finished, Reagan's heart was thundering away in her chest and her ears had begun to ring. The gears in her mind had all clicked into place but she refused to accept exactly what those gears were saying.
"So..." she said cautiously as she shook her head in disbelief. "Are you trying to tell me that-"
She couldn't bring herself to say it out loud.
"Sjelevii," Thor said. "Is from a forgotten language, no longer spoken even in Asgard. But it translates roughly to 'soulmates.'"
Silence hung heavy in the air as Reagan stared at Thor with her mouth agape, attempting to process what he had just said.
"Soulmates?" she repeated. "Soulmates?"
Revulsion rolled through her as images of the past few days on Earth flashed through her mind. The deaths, the fear, the destruction. The cruel smile Loki had worn all the while. The way he had stolen Clint's own mind from him. It wasn't possible. Someone like him meant for someone like her? The thought made her skin crawl.
"No," she said, shaking her head again. "No, there's no way that's what this is. I mean, it's a nice story and all but that can't be what this is. Soulmates aren't real. And if they were, there's no way that mine would be Loki."
I couldn't agree more. His voice sounded in her head again.
"You, shut up," she spat at him, earning a strange look from the three Asgardians before her.
"Before the markings appeared on your skin, you likely sensed him," Frigga suggested gently. "A desire to be near him or speak to him, perhaps even to touch him."
"No," Reagan lied quickly, crossing her arms uncomfortably. "No, nothing like that."
Liar.
"Stop talking to me."
She squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in a deep breath, attempting to calm herself down. Her hands were beginning to tremble.
"Okay, look. It doesn't matter what it is, or how it happened. How do we get rid of it?" she asked the three Gods standing before her.
"To our knowledge, there is no way to remove it," Frigga told her. "The marks are said to be eternal, a bond that not even death can break."
It sounded so absurd to her that Reagan actually laughed at that.
"Come on," she said, trying and failing quite miserably to remain calm. "There must be something. A spell or something, right? Or-or a doctor who can remove it? A god damn human rights lawyer? Something."
Thor only shook his head, while Frigga and Odin exchanged a glance. Anger was slowly overtaking panic as Reagan began to pace, trying her best to work off some nervous energy so that she wouldn't burst into flames then and there.
"Okay, well then you can tell this Kaha that I'd like to lodge a complaint. And have a little discussion with her about consent. Where is she?"
Thor winced. "Unfortunately, she's been dead for quite some time. Before my father was even born, actually. Well before that."
Reagan froze.
"So, let me get this straight... You're telling me I'm stuck now - forever - with a maniac in my brain because some dead lady - with the worst taste in men ever, by the way- decided she wanted to play matchmaker?"
Frigga pursed her lips disapprovingly but held her tongue, but Reagan was too angry to care.
"I can't believe this is happening."
"I understand that this is difficult," Frigga began but Reagan didn't let her finish.
"No, you don't understand. He's inside my head. He can hear everything I'm thinking. You can't just expect me to go back to Earth and go about my life with that psycho invading my thoughts."
Thor hesitated and glanced from his mother and then to his father, who Reagan suddenly realised had remained rather quiet up to that point. He let out a weary sigh and nodded to Thor, offering permission for him to speak again.
Reagan's eyes flicked between the pair, growing frustrated at the fact that she was witnessing yet another unspoken exchange.
"What?" she pushed.
"Loki having access to your thoughts may not be the most pressing concern here," Thor said slowly.
"I'm sorry?" she replied, her eyebrows furrowing.
"In the past, Asgard has come across a race of beings who know a great deal about the Mark of Sjelevii. It is sacred to them. They do not have the ability to wield any magic of their own but they are powerful, and they believe that the markings can be used to strengthen their people. They are called the Atraxis."
"Great. So they'll know how to take it off me. How do we get in contact with them?"
"Reagan," Thor said, shaking his head. "You misunderstand me. The last time two Asgardians were graced with the Mark of Sjelevii, my grandfather, Bor, was king. The Marks were becoming rarer and rarer and so the couple were celebrated. There was a great feast held in their honour, and word soon reached the rest of the nine realms. Their names were Diavan and Ester. They were abducted from Asgard not a month later. King Bor waged war against the Atraxis to retrieve our people. It was an awful, violent war and many lives were lost. By the time King Bor's forces found where the pair had been taken, it was too late. The Atraxis had roasted Diavan alive and forced Ester to eat his flesh. They believed that by making her consume him, making the pair one in a literal sense, it would give her the ability to bear the strongest children. They'd intended to use her for-"
"Okay," Reagan said, taking a shuddering breath. "I understand, I don't need to hear anymore."
"Once the King and his army returned home, Bor ensured every measure was put in place to prevent the Atraxis from setting foot on Asgardian soil ever again. Our people swore an oath that the next time a pair was blessed with the markings, they would be protected and kept a secret from the other realms so that the Atraxis would not hear word of them."
Thor looked at her, sympathy etched upon his features.
"Reagan, for your own safety, and for that of Midgard and Asgard alike-"
"We cannot permit you to return to Earth," Odin finished for him.
"I'll have some food brought to you," Thor told her, after leading her to the chambers she was permitted to sleep in.
There were two adjoining rooms; one with a large bed and in the other was a lounge chair, bookshelves and a fireplace, with a washroom just off of that. Reagan was so exhausted, both physically and mentally, that she hardly even bothered to really take in the surroundings. She and Thor had parted from the King and Queen's company, with Frigga promising to pay a visit to the Priestesses of the Witches Coven. She had assured Reagan that if anyone might know of a way to undo the bond, it was them.
"Thank you," Reagan murmured to Thor, with a small attempt at a smile.
Thor nodded and bid her goodnight before she pulled the heavy door closed.
Reagan leaned back against the door and breathed a deep sigh of relief, happy at last to be alone. It was only then that she began to realise just how much her body ached from the battle in New York. It was so strange to think that it had only been a few hours earlier that she had watched a portal open in the sky above them. After everything else, it felt like it had happened a million years ago.
She moved toward the washroom, eager to wash the grime of battle from her body. She began to peel off her shirt but then hesitated. Loki was still present within her mind, she hadn't heard him speak to her in a while but she could still feel him there. Like a tick, she thought to herself and bit her lip, concerned. Could he see her? Could he see through her eyes? If she were to undress alone in her room, was he still watching?
She shuddered at the thought - the invasiveness of it.
However, as soon as the thought crossed her mind, she felt him suddenly shrink out of her head. She furrowed her brow, uncertain of what had just happened. She reached out experimentally in the direction she had been avoiding all day - down the invisible link she felt between the two of them. She was surprised to find that when she reached the other end of it she was met with a solid and icy wall. It was as if, she realised, he had built up a defence against her. Mentally, she poked at it. It was impossibly cold and hard as steel. Impenetrable. Yet the bond between them had not disappeared entirely, she could still detect a faint... glow of him behind the wall. Just enough to leave her feeling like she was bathed in a pale blue light. Except now, mercifully, she felt as though she was alone.
How did he do that? She wondered.
Reagan retreated back into her own mind. As confused as she was by the small act of kindness - was it kindness? - she was grateful and she undressed hastily before stepping into the nightgown that had been laid out for her on her bed. Unsure of how long Loki's small act of pity might last, Reagan decided to forgo a shower, not entirely sure that he wasn't just waiting for her to be at her most vulnerable before invading her mind again. She instead filled the basin in the washroom with warm water and washed herself with a sponge and some of the scented oils she'd found. With each squeeze of the sponge, Reagan became more aware of just how much her body ached, and how much she longed for sleep. Her eyes grew heavier with every passing minute and as soon as she made her way back into the main bedroom, she flopped down on the bed without even bothering to pull herself under the covers. Sleep claimed her almost instantly.
She was so tired, that she didn't hear the knock on her door, indicating that a meal was awaiting her. She was too tired, even, to notice that the icy barrier between her mind and Loki's was slowly melting away and that a presence had begun sifting its way into her sleeping mind. She didn't hear the words he murmured inside her head.
Now then, let's see if there's anything in here that I can make use of.
Chapter Text
Frigga sat by the window, looking out over the Kingdom. She and Odin had retired to their bedchamber and night had long since fallen, but she knew neither she nor her husband would rest much that night. Her thoughts were with Loki. Since he had fallen from Asgard she had longed for him to come home - to be safe. And now he had returned to her in chains, with a trail of blood left in his wake. So different from the Loki she had lost. He had changed so much in the few short years since his fall. It had made her heart ache, seeing him return to them like that - shackled, cold, and so full of hate. When he'd looked at her, she barely recognised the sweet boy she had raised in his features.
She sensed Odin approaching from behind her but she didn't turn to him, not even when he rested a hand on her shoulder.
"Frigga," he said gently.
"Did you have to be so cold towards him?" she asked, still staring out over Asgard.
Odin sighed and his hand slipped away. He moved to stand within her line of sight and followed her gaze out over the city. "What Loki did on Midgard, what he attempted to do to Jotunheim, he must face the consequences for those actions." He told her, calmly.
"You are still his father. You sentenced him to waste away in a prison cell, must he also be left to believe that you no longer care for him?"
"Any indifference I displayed towards Loki today, pales in comparison to the contempt he holds for me."
"It is not our duty to be loved by our children, Odin," Frigga turned at last to meet his eye. "It is our duty to love them."
"But I am not just father to Thor and Loki. I am the Allfather. King of the Nine Realms. It is my sworn duty to protect all the realms from any threat they face and to punish any who might jeopardize the peace we have built over the centuries, you know that. Even if that threat is my own son."
Frigga didn't respond, she knew there would be no convincing him. Odin was often wise, but he was also a stubborn man. Part of her worried that if she pushed now, it may only make things worse for Loki.
They sat in silence for a time, surveying Asgard in the cool night air. The events from the past few days played over in each of their minds. It was a long time before Frigga spoke again.
"The girl, Reagan," she began in a gentle voice. "Her magic, it felt as if it were--"
"It is Asgardian," Odin finished for her. "Yes, I sensed it, too."
"How is that possible?" She asked. "I felt her energy, she is mortal-born. For her to not only possess such power, but also the mark?"
"I must admit that I'm unsure. I will consult the ancient scrolls. There may be answers there. Perhaps the goddess Kaha left a message we have since forgotten."
Frigga nodded. She hesitated for only a moment before speaking once more.
"This could be a good thing, Odin. Perhaps, Loki finding her will mean-"
"Loki will not be permitted to see her, Frigga," Odin said, sternly, putting the matter to bed. "I intend to keep my word. He will remain in that dungeon for the rest of his days."
Having lost his patience with the conversation, Odin made for the doorway. He swung them open and stormed down the hallway, followed by the guards stationed outside of their chambers. Frigga didn't try to stop him.
It seems so cruel, Frigga thought but did not voice the words out loud.
The mark of Sjelevii was such a rare thing now, she herself had only seen it once before. It was meant to be a blessing - a gift. Something that brought two people a lifetime of happiness. For the bond to occur between Loki and a Midgardian, how could that possibly be a gift? She'd live for only a fraction of his existence. Was this the fate her son was supposed to be subjected to? To find the other half of himself, only to be parted from her by dungeon walls and then to lose her to a mortal lifespan? Was he destined always to suffer? Frigga wiped away a tear, she wasn't quite sure when it had fallen. She would seek out the counsel of The Coven in the morning, she prayed they'd be able to help her boy.
Reagan sat with her elbow propped on the table as she idly stirred the ice in her cup around with her straw. She sighed heavily and checked her phone again.
6:32pm
She had been waiting for him for almost 45 minutes now. Unlocking her phone, she scrolled down to his name in her contacts list and hit 'dial', knowing that it was more than likely a fruitless effort.
Hey, it's Austin! You know what to do, leave a message after the *beep*
Reagan hung up, tossed her phone back in her bag and slouched down into her chair. He was always doing this. She'd lost count of the hours of her life she'd wasted waiting for her boyfriend to bother to show up when they made plans. It's not like he ever stood her up, (even though she'd wondered if maybe that's exactly what was happening when he was late to their first dinner date) but would it kill him to show up on time just once?
"Hey, babe," she heard his voice and turned to see him hurrying towards her. He smiled as he leaned down and planted a kiss on her cheek then sidled into the booth across from her. "Sorry, I'm a little late. I hope you weren't bored."
"It's fine," Reagan lied, hoping she didn't sound too frustrated. They'd had this conversation a million times and it never seemed to make a difference. And aside from that, Austin had insisted upon meeting in the Elephant Boy Cafe - where she happened to work, so she really didn't want to make a scene. She didn't exactly like going there on her days off but it was where she and Austin had met so he insisted that he liked going there together whenever they could. Though, Reagan suspected it wasn't so much to do with that and more to do with her staff discount.
If there was any sign of annoyance in her voice, Austin either didn't detect it or chose to ignore it. Instead, he launched into a story about how he'd met up with the guys for a few beers and that he might head back over there after their meal. It appeared that he'd forgotten they had planned to go to the movies. Reagan let it slide, she had an assignment she wanted to get back to working on anyway.
"Hey, so I think I found an apartment for us," she told him, shifting the conversation away from beer-pong. "It's two-bedroom, and only 15 minutes from campus. It's a little on the higher end of our weekly budget but I thought with the second room, we could set up a couple of desks in there and we'd have a study space. That way we wouldn't have to lean over a laptop on a coffee table for hours on end."
Austin leaned back in his seat and averted his eyes, suddenly looking uncomfortable.
"What is it?" She asked.
"Uh, listen, Reagan," he began, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I'm starting to think this whole moving in together thing isn't such a great idea."
"Okay," she said slowly. "And why's that?"
"I've actually been thinking for a while now, that maybe we want different things."
"Oh, my god," she murmured to herself, shame tinged her face red as she realised what he was doing.
"I mean, I'm a young guy in college. I kind of think I should be seeing what else is out there, you know?"
"Seeing what else is out there," she repeated and raised her eyebrows at him, astounded that he had the nerve to say those words to her.
"Reagan--" Austin reached for her hand but she snatched it away and folded her arms over her chest. He sighed. "You know I think you're the perfect girl for me. You're beautiful and smart and you're not one of those girls who sweat the small stuff. I mean, you didn't even care that I was late today cause I was having a beer with the guys!"
"I did care, actually."
"What I'm saying is, maybe we could just take a step back for a while and, you know, in a year or so down the track when I've had a chance to be single for a while we could pick things up again."
"Austin, you can't be serious," Reagan said. Her hands started to tremble and she wasn't sure if it was from anxiety or anger or both. "I can't believe you're doing this right now. You asked me to meet you here for dinner. Why would you bring me to the place I work just to break up with me?"
"I figured it would work best, cause now you can ask one of the girls for a ride home."
That stunned her into silence, her jaw falling open.
She knew she shouldn't have been surprised. Austin had never been the most compassionate person she'd ever met, but she'd thought he'd cared about her. And living together while they finished college was supposed to benefit both of them. She'd never really envisioned them getting married or anything, but she'd never expected this. Her eyes stung as tears threatened to spill forth. She was mortified, she couldn't stand the idea of her coworkers seeing her dissolve into tears in one of their booths.
Oh, for Odin's sake, you're not actually going to start crying in public, are you?
Reagan stiffened, the voice rang out as if it had been spoken right in her ear. A chill trickled down her spine and she swung around to look behind her but there was no one there.
"Reagan?" Austin called her name, it sounded foggy - distant. "Reagan, what is it?"
Her eyes continued to scan her surroundings. Strange. The voice had sounded so close.
"Did you hear that?" she asked.
"Hear what?"
She furrowed her brow and her eyes met his, her tears still unshed.
"Wait," she murmured.
Slowly, she began to realise that she felt slow, sluggish, like she was underwater as she looked around once more.
"This part didn't happen," she told him.
Screams rang out all around her as the portal ripped open the sky above New York City and alien creatures invaded.
Reagan's eyes shot up to take in the sight and she shook her head, disoriented.
Hadn't she just been--?
An explosion sounded overhead as the monsters took fire upon some people who had crowded by the windows in a nearby building to get a better look.
Panic gripped her as a colossal flying beast descended from the portal, armoured, with hundreds of Chitauri riding it as if it were a ship.
"Reagan!" Nat called to her. "You think you could slow that thing down?"
Reagan scanned the streets around her. It was chaos, with people running in every direction.
Fear, so much fear.
"Not without burning down half the city," she shouted back, her heart thundering in her chest.
She hated when this helplessness took over. She could do so much, was capable of so much. She wanted to do something, but she couldn't risk it. To attack something that size with her fire... What if she just made things worse? What if she burned innocent people? What if she killed someone?
You're weak.
Her eyes shot up behind the voice and she spotted him, Loki, standing stoic amongst the chaos with his arms behind his back. He held her gaze with a chilling grin upon his sharp features.
"I have eyes on Loki," she told the others, drawing upon her flames, letting them burst to life over every inch of her skin.
Are you sure about that?
She heard his voice behind her and she spun towards it only to find nothing there, she looked back to where he had just been standing. He was gone. And people continued to run from the scene.
She heard Barton's voice in her earpiece, "I have eyes on Loki."
She was burning. Her entire body was doused in flames. The fire had eaten away her clothing and scorched the earth beneath her feet and she trudged forward, desperate for help. Some people ran from her. Some threw water which evaporated instantly upon contact. Some threw rocks, cutting her open, making the flames grow even higher.
Tears swam in her eyes, as she staggered, desperate and afraid. She'd thrown herself into a fountain in the town square in an attempt to quell the flames but the water had boiled and turned to steam impossibly fast, leaving the fountain empty as the buildings all around her burnt.
She heard pained cries not too far away and when she turned towards them she saw a weeping mother, cradling her daughter tightly to her chest, nursing red, angry burns all over the poor girl's arms.
"I'm sorry," Reagan sobbed, falling to her hands and knees.
"Leave us alone, demon!" The woman screamed.
This power is wasted on you.
Reagan sobbed again, and lowered her forehead to the ground, shrinkingly, and clutched desperately at her ears, trying to block out his voice.
"Shut up!" She screamed. Her flames only grew higher.
Reagan sucked in a deep, gasping breath and clutched at the metal bench in front of her. She looked down and found she was clothed, once again, in her black flame-resistant SHIELD uniform. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest and she glanced around wildly, looking for the little burned girl.
She was surrounded by metal cafeteria tables. The tables immediately surrounding her were empty, but those a little further away were populated by SHIELD agents eating meals from plastic trays, all of who were intermittently shooting her suspicious glances. She was seated in the middle of the rookie's lunch hall... but she was so sure she'd just been--
"This isn't right," she whispered to herself, still trying to catch her breath.
A tray was set down roughly opposite her, jolting her from her train of thoughts. A red-headed woman sat across from her. She rested her elbows on the table and started picking disinterestedly at her sandwich. Reagan remembered this. In a sea of mistrust and fear, this person had offered her friendship. She thought about this moment often.
"They stared at me when I first got here too," she told her. "Try not to let it bother you."
"They're afraid of me," she murmured to this slightly younger version of Natasha, knowing it was what came next.
"They're afraid of me, too," Nat said. "Just for a different reason. Listen, if any of them give you any trouble, you come to me. I'll deal with them for you. I've got your back."
"Why are you being so nice to me?"
Nat looked up and her mouth quirked into the smallest hint of a smile.
"You remind me of someone I used to know."
Reagan offered a small smile in return before glancing around once more at the wary agents surrounding her until a flash of green and black caught her eye. His cold gaze was on her once more. Their eyes met and anger bloomed in her chest.
"You," she murmured and a wicked grin spread across his features.
She collapsed back on the floor and rubbed at her temples in frustration. She just wasn't getting it, she couldn't control it.
"Okay, let's take a break," a voice sounded through the speaker system and an alarm blared for 3 long seconds before the room was blasted with freezing cold extinguishers to settle the blazing fires she'd caused throughout the training room. She allowed her flames to dance up and down her skin to protect her from the cold, it hardly affected her at all anymore. The alarm sounded again, indicating the all-clear. She heard a door open and a single set of footsteps approached her and she quelled her flames entirely. She continued to lay there, staring up at the ceiling until Clint came into view, leaning over her with a smile on his face.
"Well, that was definitely impressive," he told her.
She rolled her eyes at him. "It wasn't supposed to be impressive, Clint. I was meant to be lighting a single candle."
Clint glanced around the charred room and spotted what appeared to be a small pool of melted wax in the centre of the room.
"Technically," he said, turning back to look at her again, "you did light it. You just lit everything else up too."
She glared up at him and he laughed at that. He reached out a hand and she took it in hers, allowing him to haul her to her feet.
"Why can't I control it?" she asked him, miserably. "It shouldn't be this hard, should it?"
"Hey, you're trying. That's what counts."
"Not if I hurt someone."
"Reagan," Clint said gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up. You didn't ask for this, and you're doing the best you can. Just take your time and let yourself make the mistakes until you get it right. That's what Fury had this room built for in the first place. You've got this, I know you do. You've just gotta believe it, too."
Reagan offered him a smile. "You know what, Clint? I think you'd make a really good dad."
Clint's face split into a bright grin and he pulled her into an affectionate headlock. "Aw, thanks, kid."
Her laughter was cut short when she remembered the cold presence that seemed to be lingering just outside of her peripheral vision. She pushed herself away from Clint suddenly.
He looked back at her, surprised. "You okay?"
"You're not safe here," she whispered.
She was waiting outside the church, dressed in black, phone pressed to her ear for the 20th time that day, listening to it ring out once again. Why could he never - just once - answer his damn phone when she called? She had thought that maybe, just this time, he wouldn't be late. That he'd be there for her. That she wouldn't have to leave voicemails, begging him to love or support her.
She really thought he would come to this.
"Please pick up," she whispered as the phone continued to ring. "Come on, please pick up."
She really thought he'd be there for her.
As his voicemail played once again, the lump that hadn't quite left her throat for the past week swelled there again and a tear slipped down her cheek.
"Dad?" she said, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice as she left the message. "It's Reagan. You're on your way, right? People are starting to show up and-- please, tell me you're coming. I can't-- I can't bury her on my own. Please, I need you to be here."
She froze as she felt his presence before he spoke, that chill that was slowly becoming familiar to her.
"No," she snarled and dropped her phone into the dirt "Not this one."
She turned and saw him standing behind her in the doorway to the church. He wore no grin this time, instead, his expression wasn't quite something she could read. She didn't care, she had no interest in finding out what he was thinking.
"Get out of my head! You can't have this one."
Her dreams, her memories, he'd just been sifting through them like he'd been changing channels. Learning. Invading. Taking.
He opened his mouth as if he were about to say something but Reagan was having no more of it.
She felt her fire welling up within her as her rage grew - her hatred.
"Get out!" she shouted.
She launched herself at him, ready to claw out his eyeballs with her bare hands.
Reagan shot up in her bed, gasping for breath. She was drenched in sweat and her bedsheets were beginning to smoulder underneath her.
"Shit!" she exclaimed and scrambled desperately to pull the singed bedding up from the mattress.
She hurried into the washroom, laden with smoking fabrics and dumped them in the bath, turning the taps on hurriedly to put out the flamed. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she hurried back into the bedroom to ensure she hadn't missed anything. The room was filled with smoke, but she could find no more signs of anything still burning. As she attempted to catch her breath, she slumped back onto her mattress and stared at the ceiling. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the taste of the smoke, it hadn't affected her lungs since Norway, now there was something comforting about the smell of it.
Well, that was all very illuminating.
Reagan scowled and closed her eyes, mentally barging down the link, determined to invade his mind in return. She wanted revenge. She wanted to see what hurt him. She slammed up against that icy wall she'd felt only a few hours earlier and shouted in frustration.
Loki's laugh rang through her head. You haven't a chance, mortal. Do you truly think a hairless little monkey like you could be any match to a God?
Well, someone certainly thought we were an even match, so why not? She shot back, waving her newly marked arm around in the air for emphasis. Maybe you're not as powerful as you think you are, you asshole.
She felt his contempt spiral down the link and she took that small opportunity to try and force herself past his barriers. She was met with the icy barricade once more.
Just leave me alone. She said as she heard him laugh at her pitiful efforts. I don't want you in my head. I don't want to talk to you. I don't even want to think about you.
Do you think *I* want this? He responded, spitefully. You are beneath me, you insect. The sooner we can undo whatever has been done the better off I'll be. But until then I'm going to search that lump of meat you call a brain for any scrap of information I can use when I free myself from this cell and return to Midgard.
Reagan spent the majority of the next day curled up on her bare mattress with her knees tucked to her chest, her teeth gritted together as she tried to force him from her mind. It wasn't long before she realised that he was toying with her. And easily, at that. Every effort Reagan made to push him out, every attempt she made to infiltrate his mind, just caused him to fill her mind with his snickering.
Hour after hour, she tried to fight back his invasions and hour after hour she failed. She tried to mimic the ice wall he'd built around his mind to protect her own but it crumbled miserably under even his gentlest touch.
I must admit, I do admire your tenacity. Even if your efforts are pathetic.
She let out a frustrated huff at that and was about to bite back at him when a knock sounded at the door. Her head shot towards the sound in surprise, she'd spent so much time in her own head that she'd forgotten there were other people in the place.
She climbed off the mattress and made her way to the door. She cracked it open and peered out. A small woman in maids attire stood there holding a platter of fruits.
"Begging your pardon, my lady," she said. "Prince Thor requested I bring you something to eat."
"Thank you," Reagan offered a small smile and stepped aside to let the woman in.
The woman moved into the room and placed the platter down on the table, she moved towards the bed and faltered when she saw the bare mattress. Reagan cringed, hoping she couldn't see the few scorch marks she'd left there.
"Oh... Are you after some new bedding, my lady?" She asked.
"Oh, yeah sorry. I- I had a nightmare and..." Reagan set her hand alight for just a moment by way of explanation before extinguishing it once again. "The sheets are in the bathroom. They're sort of ruined, I'm really sorry."
"No trouble, I'll have fresh ones arranged for you right away."
She hurried into the washroom and emerged with her arms full of burned and now soaking wet sheets. Reagan opened the door and awkwardly apologised to her once again. Once she was gone Reagan went to inspect the platter of fruits that had been left for her. It was only then that her stomach growled and she realised just how hungry she was. She'd been so distracted by Loki that she hadn't even given it a thought.
Unsure as to what to expect food to be like on a different planet, she was pleasantly surprised to find that most of it looked familiar to her. There were apple and orange slices, nuts and berries which all looked familiar. There was a variety of bread slices and a dip that smelled of garlic. The only thing that concerned her was the selection of meats. They were strange colours, slightly more purple than anything she was used to eating; some even had a tinge of blue to them. She picked a strip of it up and sniffed it. Tentatively, she put it in her mouth and chewed it experimentally. The second she did, her mind was flooded with repulsive images of a mangled looking amphibious creature. Its eyes were bulging from its head and it let out vile gurgling sounds as it writhed unnaturally. Mucus seeped from its pores, coating its contorted, wart-covered body in a slimy sheen.
I can't believe you actually put that in your mouth. Loki's voice sounded in her mind again, full of twisted glee.
The images Loki forced into her mind twisted nausea into her gut and she spat the meat back onto the platter. Her face flushed with embarrassment and she grabbed a fistful of meat and hurled it angrily in Loki's general direction. It hit the wall with a splat and clung there pathetically. Reagan's head was filled once more with Loki's laughter.
Miserably, she abandoned the meal and climbed back onto the bed. Homesickness gripped her and in her exhausted state she suddenly felt like crying, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. She curled into herself and squeezed her eyes shut, trying once more to force the trickster out of her mind, knowing that the efforts would all be in vain.
Chapter Text
Reagan screamed as terror coursed through every fibre of her being. Flashes of blinding white and red light cut through the pitch-black darkness that engulfed her, accompanied by the ghastly sounds of inhuman screams, distant and coming from somewhere in the darkness. Her ankles and wrists were shackled, stretching her limbs out so far that her joints sung with pain. All over her body things grabbed at her, clawing, crushing, twisting. Her entire frame was bruised and battered. Sharp instruments pierced into her with no warning causing her to scream. She couldn't struggle, couldn't so much as twist away. Her throat was raw from hours of screaming. Exhaustion overwhelmed her. How long had she endured this now without rest or reprieve? Days? Weeks? She desperately tried to inhale but it was as if there was no oxygen in the atmosphere around her. Boiling heat rose up inside of her, in her chest, up her spine, inside her head. It wasn't like her fire which she'd come to find comfort in, no, this heat was unbearable, acidic, trying to eat her from the inside out. And yet her extremities were impossibly cold. Alone. Afraid. She couldn't beg for help, she couldn't ask them to stop. She knew it would only make it worse. Cruel laughter sounded around her and a sob escaped her lips, knowing that this was just the beginning. No help was coming for her. Not a soul in the universe knew she was there.
Reagan shot up in her bed gasping desperately for air. She gulped in deep breaths and tried to calm herself. Tremors wracked through her body and she climbed onto her knees, clutching at the mattress and quilts beneath her to try and ground herself - to try and convince herself she was safe, that it had all just been a dream. As her breathing began to subside, her deep gasps turned into sobs and she realised her face was wet with tears. She raised a trembling hand to brush her hair from her sweat-soaked brow and squeezed her eyes shut, willing away the horrible images the nightmare had left flashing through her mind.
Only, the images wouldn't relent. She saw them still, just as vibrant, just as awful, as they had been when she was dreaming. She could all but feel the pain, her head was still filled with the terror - with her screams.
No, she realised, not her screams. His.
Her heart was still pounding as she forced her mind down the link and found that it was wide open. Loki's nightmare was pouring freely into her mind, dousing her in the horrors he was experiencing while unconscious.
She couldn't stand it.
Loki, she called to him, gently. Loki, wake up.
His anguished screams rang through her mind again and she flinched away from them. She'd never heard a sound so awful - raw, visceral.
Loki, you have to wake up. Her pleas grew a little more urgent. You're okay, everything is alright. It's a nightmare, it's not real.
Overwhelming fear flooded down the link, sinking deep into Reagan's bones.
Loki! Loki, please wake up!
Let it stop. Let it be over, she heard him groan.
It's okay, Loki, just please wake up!
Instantly, as if a switch had been flicked, the images snapped out of her mind and left in their wake was pooling confusion and disorientation. She sat there, still trying to catch her breath as she waited for him to come back to a state of full consciousness.
Are you alright? She asked, unable to stop herself.
His focus suddenly snapped to the connection between the two of them. Though he didn't answer her, his focus on her was so intense that it swept the air out of her lungs.
What the hell was that? She asked him.
Without answer, Loki's icy mental barricade came crashing down between them and suddenly Reagan was alone again. She loosed a low, shuddering breath and slumped back against her pillows as her heartbeat, at last, began to slow down. She lay there, playing the images over in her mind, now that she could separate herself from the all-consuming terror that had come along with them. She'd never felt fear like that before, not even when she'd caught fire for the first time in Norway. It had all felt so real, unlike any dream she'd ever experienced. Was that how Asgardian dreams felt? Or... had those images been more than just a dream? Had those things happened to Loki? Had she just witnessed not a nightmare, but a memory?
As she turned these thoughts over in her head she began to realise there was more than just the images of the nightmare that lingered in her mind. There were whispers of him there, footprints, snapshots of other memories, not so horrible. She focused on the ghostly remnants of him in her mind and slowly pieced together images of him sitting by his mother's side. He was younger, much younger, and Frigga smiled warmly at him as she opened up her hand and produced tiny glowing fireworks in her palm. His tiny hand rested upon her knee as he leaned in to get a closer look, awestruck. There were flashes - frames - of Loki alone in a room lined with books and adorned with decor of golds and deep greens; his bedroom, Reagan supposed. She could see him running along with other children, all calling for Thor's attention, for Thor to play on their team. She could see Odin, gazing proudly at his golden-haired son.
Reagan's eyes eventually grew heavy, and she slipped into a deep sleep. And while he was no longer invading her mind, her dreams were still filled with Loki.
When Reagan woke again the next morning, Loki's barrier was still firmly in place.
Loki? She prodded at it cautiously - experimentally - but received no reaction.
Relief washed over her that she'd slept through the rest of the night without the dark-haired man nosing through her thoughts and memories, though she couldn't help the small pool of concern that settled in her stomach as her mind wandered back to the nightmare once more.
Retreating back into her own mind, she stretched and twisted her joints, relieved to find that the aches and pains she'd amounted from the battle against the Chitauri were starting to ease. After the events of the night before, Reagan strongly suspected that Loki wouldn't be invading her mind that morning, so she took the opportunity to make her way into the washroom and run a bath.
As the water ran and the room filled with steam, Reagan poured in a variety of sweetly scented oils, and bubbles began to form in the tub. She shed her nightgown and climbed into the scalding hot water. Settling back into the tub she closed her eyes and breathed out a long, slow sigh of relief, happy to feel alone at last for the first time in days.
As her fingers and toes began to prune and the water began to cool, Reagan summoned forth her fire and reheated the bathwater, more than content to stay there, relaxing for the remainder of the day.
When Reagan woke once again the next morning to Loki's barrier, she determined that Loki had no intention of interacting with her again any time soon. His mental shield hadn't budged since she'd woken him, not even throughout the night when she'd got up to use the bathroom or to drink some water. Vaguely, she wondered if he was intentionally avoiding sleep so that she wouldn't be granted accidental access to his mind again. Whatever the reason was, she was glad for it and left the barrier alone, worried she might antagonise him into tormenting her again.
After having spent the past few days either curled up in bed moping or soaking in dramatically over-perfumed bathwater, Reagan decided it was time to leave her room and explore the realm of Asgard. It was, after all, three days since she'd arrived there and she'd only seen from the Rainbow Bridge to the Throne room. She wanted to explore.
Soon a knock sounded at her door and a maid entered, carrying a breakfast tray. Reagan felt a little guilty when it then occurred to her that she hadn't made much of an effort to talk to the woman. She had just been so wrapped up in the mental turmoil Loki was inflicting upon her that she hadn't really paid any attention to the other woman's coming and going.
The maid smiled at her as she set the tray down. "Good morning, my lady."
"Hi," she responded. "I'm Reagan, by the way."
"Malin, my lady."
Reagan approached her, twisting her nightgown in her hands, awkwardly. "I just wanted to apologise, you know, for burning the sheets the other night and the general rudeness and bad moods over the past few days. I've just-- I've just been having a rough time." She offered her an apologetic smile.
"That's quite alright, my lady. It's completely understandable given the circumstances--" Malin caught herself and suddenly looked uncomfortable.
Reagan pulled a face somewhere between a grimace and a smile. "Ah, so you've heard about the soulmate thing then, I guess? Not going to lie to you, it freaking sucks."
Malin laughed just a little at that and dipped her head, uncertain of what to say.
"So, I was thinking about exploring at little today," Reagan said, shifting the subject. "Any suggestions on where to start?"
Malin nodded. "The Queen's gardens are one of the most beautiful sights to behold in all of Asgard."
Reagan was a little surprised by that. She'd figured Asgard would have something a little more exciting to offer. "Seriously, a garden? I thought maybe--"
"Oh, it's not what you're expecting. It's filled with plants that Queen Frigga enchanted herself. It's really more of a forest than a garden. It's wonderful."
"Alright, I'll trust you," Reagan said with a shrug. "I've never seen a magic flower before, let alone a whole garden full of them."
Reagan then glanced down at the nightgown she'd been wearing for the past few days, then looked up at Malin, uncertain of how to ask if there was anything else available for her to wear. Malin caught on immediately and guided Reagan into the adjoining room.
"The queen already had us arrange some garments for you, my lady," Malin told her.
"Please, call me Reagan," she said as she followed Malin towards the wardrobe.
Malin pulled open two large doors, revealing a selection of twenty or so dresses, all of the Asgardian style. The colours ranged from deep earthy tones to rich blues and purples. Reagan couldn't help but notice that there were also more than a few that were dark shades of green adorned with black and gold accents. Loki's colours. She intended to avoid those at all costs.
"These are so beautiful," Reagan breathed, moving forward and running her fingers over the fabrics. She could instantly feel the quality of the fabrics were far above anything she'd ever worn on Earth.
Malin helped Reagan change into a beautiful sky-blue dress that was decorated with gold trimmings, and layers of soft and silky fabrics. Malin wrapped the materials around Reagan's torso and pinned them in place, before draping the long, sweeping fabrics gracefully from her shoulders in a way that truly flattered her collar bones. When Reagan looked in her mirror, she hardly recognised herself. She looked graceful, beautiful even, and it had been a long time since Reagan had allowed herself to feel that way. She smoothed her hands over the dress as she stared at her reflection.
"Wow," she breathed.
"It looks lovely on you," Malin said, and Reagan turned to smile at her just in time to see the way Malin's gaze fell upon Reagan's forearm.
Reagan glanced down at the Mark of Sjelevii and covered it self-consciously with her hand. She could feel her cheeks staining red, uneasy at the thought of parading it around Asgard for all to see.
"Perhaps you'd like me to add some sleeves?" Malin suggested carefully.
"Yes," Reagan nodded resolutely. "I'd appreciate that, thank you."
Malin guided Reagan to sit in a nearby chair and set to work fashioning her some sleeves from the fabrics which draped from her shoulders. Reagan watched her work, mesmerised as Malin magicked flawless stitching into place.
"How are you doing that?" Reagan asked.
"Many Asgardians are taught small feats of magic," Malin explained. "Small feats such as this take time to learn and it's the most that the majority of us are able to achieve. There are a few who possess a far greater affinity for magic, they can do a great deal more wonderful things." Malin hesitated before she added, "sometimes terrible things too."
Reagan's mind inevitably wandered to Loki. It was so strange to think about the events of the past few days, about how dramatically her life had shifted in such a short period of time all because of a stupid glowing cube and that raven-haired maniac.
"What do you know about him?" Reagan asked as she watched Malin magic another seem into place. "About Loki."
Malin paused for a moment, weighing her words. "I haven't interacted much with him myself but..."
"But what?"
"In the past, he's liked to play tricks on the maids. He once vanished all the door handles in the entire palace so we couldn't get in and out of rooms to do our duties until the Queen ordered him to fix it. Some of the guards were actually forced to barge some doors down. One summer there was an infestation of crickets - though we can't prove whether or not Prince Loki was to blame for that - but he started making them invisible so they would chirp but you had no hope of finding them. We lost many nights' rest due to all the noise. Another time at a banquet, he transformed all the wine into ink and, well, a great many of the noble people were forced to walk around with bright blue teeth for weeks."
Reagan nodded pensively, forcing herself to suppress a smirk at the idea of it. She was quietly confident that Malin wouldn't appreciate Reagan finding those stories amusing, and even if he wasn't in her head anymore, she hated the idea of giving Loki the satisfaction of finding anything he did funny.
"Okay..." Reagan said. "So in the past, he wasn't so much evil as he was a massive pain in the ass. I mean, how do you go from invisible crickets to trying to invade a planet?"
Malin glanced up at Reagan and then returned to the sleeve she was finishing. "He once also set assassins loose in the palace to try to kill the King. This was only a few years ago, right before he disappeared."
"Wow, okay. So he really switched gears there," Reagan replied quietly. Her eyes fell on the Mark once more, which Malin was just in the process of covering up. "It has to be wrong..."
Malin looked up at her again, a look of sympathy on her features. "For your sake, my lady, I hope so."
Whatever Reagan had been expecting Asgard to be, her wildest imaginings paled in comparison. The entire city gleamed in the sunlight. Gorgeous terraces were built into cliff faces, overseeing buildings of stone, marble and gold. Everywhere she turned, Reagan saw greenery, intricate craftworks carved into marble walls, awe-inspiring statues and artworks more beautiful than anything she'd ever seen on Earth.
A sweet scent hung in the air, and children ran around laughing as they chased after flying toys.
Seven moons hung in the sky overhead and a dusting of stars could be seen on the horizon just past the snow-capped mountains.
As she moved through the city, Reagan noticed that all of the people of Asgardian were dressed in the finest clothing, their hair pulled back into elegant styles. They were all immaculate, not a hair out of place, and Reagan wondered vaguely what they thought of her wandering around with her hair falling freely around her shoulders.
It wasn't long before Reagan started to pick up on the strange glances that were being thrown her way, and she soon began to suspect it had little to do with her hair. Since Norway, she'd grown accustomed to staring, and people whispering about her. She'd been naive to think it wouldn't happen here too. She was, after all, still an oddity even here. She grew increasing grateful for the sleeve that hid the Mark from view as she heard broken snippets of the things people whispered as she passed.
"-the girl from Midgard-"
"-she bears the Mark-"
"-impossible-"
"-strange-"
"-belongs to Loki-"
The last one made her flinch and she picked up her pace, following Malin's directions to the Queen's garden, desperately hoping they were, in fact, a boring sight to see, and therefore rather deserted.
When she finally reached the gardens, she was relieved to find that they were a lot quieter than the sections of the city she had just passed through. A few Asgardians still glanced her way when she entered, but they kept their distance, and any whispering they might have been doing was out of her earshot. Reagan gazed around the garden and let out a low breath, she couldn't help but smile. It was beautiful. Ancient. Tranquil. Calm water trickled down a stream that laced its way throughout the garden. Huge hanging trees interrupted the sunlight, giving a serene feel to the atmosphere. There were gorgeous flowers of every colour, right up to the pebbled pathways. Songbirds sang out from their hiding places amongst the tree branches. The air was filled with a calming mix of floral scents along with something that reminded her of baked cookies.
Reagan crouched down to get a closer look at a nearby plant that was bursting with unusual flowers of different shades of purple, she watched as they danced in the gentle breeze, glistening like diamonds. She reached out carefully and ran a fingertip along one of the petals with a feather-light touch.
"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Came a voice from behind her. Reagan shot to her feet and turned to find a tall man with long, blonde, braided hair approaching her, smiling widely. He was handsome, though Reagan had quickly come to realise that just about every person in all of Asgard was. He approached her with his hands clasped behind his back. "Queen Frigga enchanted them herself so that the petals will change colour each day to match her attire. She spends a great deal of her time in these gardens."
Unsure of what to say, Reagan just turned back to look at the flowers once more.
"I'm Reagan," she told him, glancing back at him again.
"I've heard," he replied, still smiling. "Your arrival in Asgard has drummed up quite a bit of gossip."
Reagan cringed at that. "Yeah, to be honest, I was hoping I was just imagining all the stares. I suppose not."
"All due to your beauty, I'm sure." He beamed at her and barked out a short, incredulous laugh.
"Oh, yeah, I'm sure that's it."
The man laughed at that. "In any case, it's a pleasure to meet you, lady Reagan. I am Halvor."
Halvor took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. He bowed low and pressed a kiss to her knuckles then smiled up at her, her hand still clasped in his.
Reagan offered a tight-lipped smile in return, uncomfortable with the gesture. In all honesty, she'd always found it a slightly creepy thing to do. She slowly retrieved her hand back from him, hoping she'd waited long enough to not appear rude.
"Might I interest you in a tour?" He offered.
Reagan hesitated for a moment. There was something about him that felt a little forced, in his loud, projecting voice and the way he carried himself. A strange, off-putting sort of confidence. But then she supposed that Thor had been a little odd to interact with at first too, and Loki--
Don't think about Loki, she chided herself.
They were from different worlds, she reminded herself, maybe their social cues were just a little out of alignment.
Plus, he's still better company than I've been saddled with for the past few days, creepy or not, she shot the bitter thought off-handedly in the direction of the icy barrier Loki was still holding in place.
"Sure, why not?" Reagan said in response to his offer.
"Wonderful," he beamed at her.
Halvor offered Reagan her arm and she accepted it, falling into step behind him as he guided her deeper into the Queen's Garden.
A massive water feature soon came into view. It was made entirely of bronze, a huge dragon-like creature stretched its head skyward, jaws open to allow water to burst from its mouth, showering down into the small pond surrounding it. Reagan couldn't help but think that it looked rather out of place there. Halvor gestured towards it.
"This fountain was installed 600 years ago as a gift from Queen Frigga to King Odin on his Name Day."
Actually...
Dread instantly filled her as the now-familiar voice sounded in her mind for the first time in days.
Please no, Reagan cringed, willing it to have just been her imagination.
She was not so fortunate.
Odin gifted it to her because she was mad at him for having her beloved raven released into the wild when it defecated on his throne.
"Prince Thor and I used to play here when we were boys," Halvor told her, not having noticed the sudden change in her demeanour. "We used to race down the pathways, determined to outdo each other. So often we were neck and neck, I barely remember who the victor was most of the time."
What an odd thing to lie about, Loki mused inside her mind. Though I suppose he's only talking to you, he must realise mortals are easily impressed.
Would you go away? She hissed at him.
Beside her, Halvor was talking about competitions of strength he and Thor used to take part in as children, but she couldn't bring herself to focus on his words when once again, Loki was rooting around in her mind.
Is this truly the best company you can drum up in all of Asgard?
Reagan envisioned herself kicking Loki hard in the shin, hoping he might feel it, but it only earned her a low laugh from him.
I'll take that as a yes, he said.
"Reagan?" Halvor said, and she snapped her attention back to him. "You seem distracted. Did you hear what I said?"
Oh shit, she thought, what had he said?
Something about having an abnormally shaped head, I suspect, Loki remarked.
"I'm sorry, Halvor, I've just started to get the most annoying headache," she told him as she pulled her arm free of his, attempting once again to force Loki from her mind with a wince. "I think I might just go back to my room and rest for a while."
"Oh, yes, of course," Halvor replied, sounding a little disappointed. "Perhaps I could show you around another time?"
"I'd like that," she told him, attempting to smile while Loki poked and prodded around in her head. "I'm sorry, I really have to go."
She offered him a quick wave before retreating from the gardens and hurrying back towards her chambers, growing angrier with every footstep.
You're welcome, Loki said and Reagan could sense him smirking.
Her eyebrows shot toward her hairline. I'm welcome? Welcome for what? Did you do that on purpose?
Did I spare you from an afternoon in the company of that doldrum? Yes, I did do that on purpose. Again, you're welcome.
He wasn't a doldrum, he was being nice to me. Reagan shot back as she stormed down the palace hallways.
Please, the exact word you used was "creepy."
That was just-- Reagan came to an abrupt halt. Wait, you heard that? I thought you had your ice walls up.
She felt sudden hesitance from him, and she sensed that he'd made a misstep. Reagan furrowed her eyebrows as she replayed the moment she'd had the thought. She'd felt spiteful and had thrown it in Loki's direction, assuming it would go unnoticed. The icy shield had stood firmly in place, she was certain of it. She tilted her head to the side as realisation slowly dawned on her.
Can you hear me if I talk to you? She asked him slowly.
Again, Loki remained silent.
You can, can't you? Even with the shield up. A grin began to tug at her features and excitement caused her heart to start racing.
When Loki didn't respond immediately she suspected that he was scrambling for some kind of excuse to undo what he had just given away. But it was too late, Reagan knew she was right, she could feel it - and she was absolutely elated. Finally, she had some leverage.
Teach me how to block you out of my head. She demanded then, filled with a new sense of confidence.
Loki barked out a surprised laugh. And why would I ever do something like that?
Because you can hear me and I have nothing better to do with my time than annoy you. And I will spend every waking moment doing exactly that unless you show me how to block my mind like you do.
She felt him sneer in her direction. Do your worst, mortal.
Oh, she intended to.
Talking non-stop proved a little harder than Reagan had expected seeing as she didn't really want to give Loki any more information about herself than he'd already taken from her against her will. Instead, she figured she'd speak about Thor, confident that Loki would loathe it. She quickly learned that she'd been very correct about that. She felt anger and annoyance ebbing from him as she rambled on about Thor's confidence, and how kind, determined and strong he was. She could feel Loki scowling when she gushed over the way Thor wielded Mjölnir and his ability to summon lightning. She was certain she had his blood absolutely boiling when she moved on to how attractive Thor was - his long golden hair, his gorgeous blue eyes, those unbelievably sculpted muscles.
The problem with this strategy, however, was that Reagan had only known Thor for a few days so she rapidly ran out of things to say about him, and found herself growing bored with the subject. So, from there she moved on to asking questions about Asgard. After all, she did have hundreds she was dying to ask. She'd even managed to goad Loki into a conversation once or twice with a few of the stranger ones.
Where does all the water go though? She asked. How does Asgard have any left?
After a moment Loki's voice echoed in her head, albeit sounding annoyed. What are you talking about?
Well, it just keeps spilling off the edges in all directions, right? So how hasn't it just drained away completely? Is there some kind of gigantic catchment system underneath us or something?
Of course not. It's magic.
What kind of magic though? Magic that makes new water? Or magic that returns the water back to Asgard after it's fallen?
I don't--
I mean, it seems a little wasteful if it's not the latter, right? And who put the magic there in the first place? Wait, did someone have to add the water? Was it just barren land before that?
Asgard is the mightiest kingdom in all the Nine Realms, you wretched fool, it has never been barren land.
Alright, calm down. It was just a question.
Eventually, Loki remembered himself and stopped engaging, and once again, Reagan grew bored. She disliked the beat of silence she had to leave after the questions to allow him to answer, especially when he stopped answering.
And that's how, hours later, Reagan found herself laying starfished on her bed, feeding herself grapes from a bowl she was balancing on her belly as she painstakingly explained to Loki the plot of every single book she could ever remember reading.
So then, she continued with one cheek stuffed full of grapes, Harry looks around expecting everyone to be like, "Way to go calming that snake down, man!" But instead, they all look completely freaked out. And Justin Flinch-Fletchly is like, "What are you playing at?!"
Would you PLEASE shut up?
Happily. She promised. Just teach me how to put the ice shield up.
She waited but was met with silence rather than a response.
Fine. Reagan moved the bowl and rolled onto her stomach, then propped up her chin on one fist. So Hermione and Ron drag Harry away and Ron goes, "Blimey 'arry! Why didn't you tell us you was a parseltongue, innit?" and Harry's like, "What's a ruddy parseltongue?"
She felt a pulse of annoyance from him. Could you at least spare me the accents?
Reagan, who had been trying her best to annoy him as much as possible feigned innocence. What? That's how they talk.
I sincerely doubt that.
Uh, I think I would know more about human accents than you would.
You are utterly woeful at them. It's completely embarrassing.
Oh, I'm the embarrassing one, am I? Reagan replied, incredulously. Remind me, was it you or me that forced a crowd of Germans onto their knees and then delivered their villain speech in the wrong language?
She actually felt a twist of embarrassment at that which she found deeply satisfying. When he spoke again so quickly she suspected it was an attempt to hide that fact from her.
How many of these books are there again?
Seven.
And where are we at now?
We're like a quarter of the way through the second one.
You can't be serious.
And they get longer. This is the second shortest one. But stop interrupting. I want to get through this cause next I'm going to teach you about rap music. You're going to hate it.
You are an absolute nightmare.
Right back at you, asshole.
Okay, that chapter was stupid-fun to write. I hope you enjoyed reading. Any reviews would be much appreciated :)
Chapter 5: Chapter 5
Chapter Text
Reagan pushed open the door and tipped-toed into the dark room, the gentle sound of snoring coming from the bed instantly eased the worry that had pooled in her stomach. She moved towards the two forms laying silhouetted in the darkness, placing her feet slowly and methodically in her best attempt not to disturb the quiet.
"Momma?" she murmured in little more than a whisper as she reached out a small hand to shake the person on the side nearest to the door - the only one she would ever really seek out in the middle of the night. "Momma, I had an accident again."
She waited apprehensively as her mother stirred from her sleep and raised her head from her pillow. In the dark, Reagan could see her open one bleary eye to peer at her.
"Oh honey," she groaned softly, her voice heavy with sleep. "That's the third night this week."
Reagan didn't answer. She just looked down at her feet as embarrassment washed through her and gave a miserable sniff.
"Shhh," her mother hushed, reaching for her. "It's alright, sweetheart. Have you changed your pyjamas?"
Reagan nodded.
"Alright." Her mother lifted the blankets and shifted back a little to make room for her. "Come here, just be quiet so we don't wake your father. You know what he's like."
Reagan hoisted herself up into the bed and curled into the warmth of her mother's chest as she threw the blankets back over them both then wrapped a comforting arm around the young girl.
"We should probably try drinking less water after dinner tomorrow," her mother whispered as she pressed a kiss to the crown of Reagan's head. "Maybe that's the problem."
"I'm sorry momma," Reagan murmured against her mother's shoulder. She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of fabric softener and faded perfume, and something just a little dusty.
"It's not your fault, sweet girl. Get some sleep now."
"Okay," Reagan murmured. She closed her eyes and listened as her mother's breathing soon evened out into gentle snores again. She wriggled just a little more into her warmth before allowing the rhythm of those snores to lull her to sleep.
Just as she began to drift away, a voice stirred in some strange and unfamiliar corner of her mind.
You're not serious, Loki sneered, bending down to inspect the six-year-old Reagan more closely. You actually wet yourself in your sleep? How humiliating. Is it commonplace for Midgardians to soil their bedding?
Reagan woke with a jolt and actually snarled. Her face burned a violent shade of red, but instead of making Reagan want to shrink up and die like it may have a few days ago, this time it only fueled her rage.
"Oh, that is it!" she exclaimed.
Violently, she threw back her quilts and climbed out of bed.
Reagan flung open her chamber doors with a bang that echoed out through the darkened hall and she stormed out barefoot into the palace, her nightgown billowing around her and her hands balled into tight fists.
The hallways were still dark, but the sun was just beginning to peek up over the horizon, giving just enough light that Reagan could see where she was going.
Where are you off to? Loki asked casually, clearly enjoying that he'd gotten such a rise out of her.
"You'll see," she said to him out loud. "And believe me, you are not going to like it."
She only had fragments of the memories she'd accidentally gleaned from Loki's mind the one time he'd let his guard down. So precious little, but just enough for her to map her way through the castle until she arrived at her desired destination.
What do you think you are doing? Loki's voice had a sudden edge to it that was music to Reagan's ears as he began to realise where she was going.
"If you're going to keep invading my privacy, you better believe I'm going to invade yours," she told him, grabbing hold of the door handles, ready to fling the doors open.
They didn't budge. She shook them violently but again achieved nothing.
Locked.
She swore under her breath and scowled as she felt his smug satisfaction curl around her, languid, like a cat.
Did you really think you'd just be able to barge into my chambers--
"Yeah, actually, I did," she said, not letting him finish.
Reagan took hold of the handles once again and forced heat to burst forth in the palm of her hands until the handles were glowing red hot. The wood around the lock quickly began to char, giving off a horrid black smoke which Reagan all but ignored as handles glowed white hot and their integrity gave way, melting at last and oozing down the smouldering wood of the doors.
She released her grip and gave the doors a dramatic shove, forcing them to swing open, revealing Loki's private chambers.
"HA!" she cried victoriously as she strode into the room.
You little shrew.
Rage pulsed down the link in her direction.
She wished then and there that she could bottle and sell the surge of satisfaction that was flowing through her veins at that moment.
The room was like much of the rest of Asgard - grand, finely decorated, and far more intricately detailed than anything she'd ever seen on Earth. It was furnished with ebony furniture, accented with rich greens and golds, much like the attire Loki had donned while invading Earth. The walls were lined with bookshelves which were kept meticulously tidy. A large desk was positioned in from of them, half buried in stacked books, scrolls and strange-looking relics. Expensive rugs decorated the dark, marbled floors and heavy emerald curtains draped over the many ceiling-high windows all around the room, obscuring the view overlooking the glittering city beyond them, parted only enough to let thin strips of light pierce through the darkness. Reagan inhaled and she picked up soft scents of sandalwood and tea, and something that reminded her a little of magnolias. She ignored the calm the aroma threatened to bring with it.
She strolled around the room, taking her time to drink everything in, running her fingers along the surfaces she passed, vaguely surprised to find a consistent layer of dust covering everything. She had assumed the staff would continue to keep it tidy even without Loki occupying it; it appeared they were not.
"Wow. Not too shabby," she said out loud, suddenly feeling extremely smug to finally have an upper hand over the bane of her existence. "I have to say, you Asgardians definitely aren't minimalists are you? I mean, it does explain a lot. No wonder you're so dramatic. Look at the environment you've lived in. You're just so visually overstimulated at all times."
Alright, you've had your fun. Now, get out.
"Ha! Are you crazy? I'm not planning on going anywhere anytime soon, buddy."
She reached the bed at the far end of the room. It was easily large enough to sleep ten people and was perfectly made, pridefully so. Pillows of varying shapes were arranged against an ostentatious headboard. Onyx and emerald quilts were draped over an inviting look mattress, they looked painfully soft. So much so that Reagan felt fleetingly tempted to sink into them.
Instead, she held out her pointer finger, allowing it to heat up until it was smouldering hot. She then reached out and began drawing scorch marks into shapes on Loki's exquisite quilts. She hoped they were expensive as she ruined them. She hoped they were his favourites.
She felt indignation roll off of him as he watched her actions, helplessly, from her mind's eye.
Are those supposed to be genitals?! He spat. How mature of you.
"Ohhh, I didn't realise that maturity was what you were going for when you were digging through my head looking for embarrassing memories," she said, mockingly, as she continued to doodle.
I am going to destroy every last atom binding you together, you foul little-
"Uh huh," Reagan said, disinterestedly.
Once she had finished with her crude little artworks, she turned to survey the rest of her room, tapping her finger against her chin, pensively.
"Now, if I was a petulant asshole with a god complex, where would I hide my journal?"
I am a god, you insolent worm.
"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first seven hundred times," she drawled. "By the way, I'm a little offended by the insults you've been throwing my way. It's all worm this, idiot that. But Natasha got 'this is my bargain you mewling quim.' I mean, that's so out of line it's almost beautiful. I'm supposed to be your soulmate and yet you're waxing poetic for another woman."
She shook her head in mock annoyance as she pushed over a vase unceremoniously, smiling at the sound of it shattering on the floor.
You know you get awfully cocky when you think you have the upper hand.
"I do have the upper hand. Any moment now I'm going to be balls-deep in your inner thoughts."
Well, isn't that just charming?
She made her way back to the bed and with a little difficulty, lifted the mattress to inspect beneath it. Nothing.
"Dear diary," she mocked in a terrible attempt at his accent as she continued her search. "Day four thousand eight hundred and thirty-four of Operation: Attain a Throne. Plans were once thwarted by my oaf of a brother. What a waste of a perfectly good catapult. Had that strange dream about wearing mother's shoes again."
She felt Loki scoff.
What makes you think I would even keep a journal?
"Please." Reagan rolled her eyes. "You're totally the type and we both know it."
Her eyes fell on his desk once again and she hurried over to it. She swung her arm across it, sweeping pilings of scrolls onto the floor. She then picked up the nearest book and started thumbing through it as she wandered in circles around the desk, making sure to crush the scrolls beneath her feet with each step. Once she'd flipped about halfway through the book, finding nothing of interest, she tossed it over her shoulder and picked up another. She hurled book after book across the room, smirking for each other that landed open, creasing pages against the marble floor.
Loki's anger seethed her way once again.
You can search all you want, you'll never find anything even remotely as embarrassing as when you stumbled across that stage when you were seventeen, he sneered.
Reagan cringed as the memory forced its way to the forefront of her mind. She'd made the honour roll and was being presented with an award in front of the entire school. When her name was called she'd tripped up the final step and had gone sprawling across the stage. Worst of all was that she'd grabbed hold of her Principal's thigh to try and catch her fall, almost taking both him and his trousers down with her. She loathed thinking about that moment and hated if any of her friends ever brought it up. So to hear it coming from Loki, well, that was another thing altogether.
With newfound determination she dug through the desk draws, dumping their contents onto the floor. She was rapidly growing more and more frustrated with her fruitless search and so she turned instead towards the bookshelves lining the walls. Reagan pulled a random book from the shelf and began flipping through it, before snatching the page up in her fist and tearing it out violently. She scrunched it into a ball and tossed it carelessly over her shoulder, followed by a few other ill-fated pages and then the book itself. She then returned to the shelves, inspecting the spines carefully before selecting her next victim.
Do you have any idea how priceless some of those volumes are?! Some of them are one of a kind.
"I literally couldn't care less, Loki."
You are an utter NEANDERTHAL.
She ignored him and pulled the heavy, velvety curtains from where they hung over their brilliantly large windows into a sad-looking heap in the middle of the room, she thrust her flaming hands into the fabrics unceremoniously and let them begin to smoulder.
The next time you sleep I am going to carve your memories right out of your head. I will not rest until you have lost every last one that means anything to you.
Reagan faltered just a little at that.
"Yeah right. You can't do that," she said defiantly. "You're lying."
Oh, but I can, and I will. You'll be nothing but an empty, drooling lump of flesh by the time I'm done.
The venom in his voice sounded like a promise.
It made her shiver.
Reagan inhaled deeply as fear and rage swelled up in her. She hated him - hated him - more than anything else in existence.
She wanted desperately to throw something, to break it beyond repair, to watch it shatter into a million pieces against a wall. She spun, searching for something - anything - when her eyes landed upon a large crystal orb, resting in a simple black stand on one of Loki's shelves. Even in the limited light, it had a vaguely pearlescent quality to it.
Lovely, she thought at first.
Smashable, she thought next.
She strode towards the shelf, took hold of the orb and hoisted it above her head, ready to hurl it with all her might when Loki's voice rang out in her mind, louder than she had ever heard it.
Wait! Please, not that!
Reagan stilled, hesitant. Her heart began to race. Something in his voice; a desperation she'd not yet heard in him was enough to quell her blinding anger.
Please. He'd said the word please.
She stood there, frozen. The crystal ball was still clutched in her hand. Her chest still heaving with breathless anger.
And yet, she waited for him to speak again.
I yield, alright? He insisted, suddenly sounding raw. Just please, put it back.
"You'll stay out of my memories?" She asked, lowering the orb ever so slightly.
Alright. Yes. I will. Just don't break it.
Reagan furrowed her brow, relenting. She lowered her arm, inspecting the sphere. She turned it over in her hands, slowly as she thought. There was nothing particularly special about it. In fact, there were a hundred other items decorating the room that seemed far more exquisite than this. So what was so special about it that it could spark such a sudden and dramatic change in the trickster?
Reagan moved slowly back towards the shelf where she'd found the orb before she spoke again.
"And you'll teach me how your mind shields work?" she pressed.
There was a beat of hesitance from his end of the link until he relented at last.
Yes. So be it.
Reagan nodded gently in acceptance and carefully she returned the orb to its perch upon the shelf. She took her time to remove her hands from it, careful to only pull away completely when she was certain it was secure in its position.
She turned from it then and put her hands on her hips.
"Alright," she said, resolutely. "Go."
What?"
"Go," she repeated. "I'm ready. Start talking."
Wha- Right now?!
"I'm sorry, do you have somewhere else to be or something, prison-stripes? Now let's hear it. How do you put the shield up?"
Loki sighed.
Alright, fine. He said, his tone still carrying an edge but he fell quiet for a few moments to consider his next words. I've seen your attempts to keep me out and you do have the right idea to some extent. You've tried to encompass your mind within a guard but your method is flawed.
"Flawed how?"
When you try to penetrate mine, what does it seem like to you? How does it feel?
"It's like a wall of ice. It's cold and unwelcoming. It feels thick. Impenetrable, I guess."
It's because I've worked it to be so. With yours, it's more like... a bed of thorns. It's messy and large and aggressive. A clear attempt to create a barrier that might cause harm to one who tries to invade your thoughts-
"You," she said pointedly.
Yes, me. It pains me to admit that it's not the worst effort put forth by someone so inexperienced. However, with time and patience, a person with the necessary skill can find a way to weave their way through the gaps you've left.
"Okay... so how do I close the gaps? More thorns?"
Not exactly. You need to approach its construction with more of a-
"Reagan?"
The voice cut Loki's sentence short as her attention snapped towards the door to find Thor standing on the threshold, staring at her strangely. He hovered, seeming uncertain about whether he should enter or not.
His mere presence seemed to annoy Loki, who opted at that moment to retreat from her mind, erecting the perfect shields he'd just come so close to explaining to her.
"What are you doing?" Thor asked as his eyes wandered slowly around the room, growing wider with each second.
"Oh," Reagan murmured. She turned to survey the destruction she'd caused, seeing it through Thor's eyes and realising how insane she likely looked.
Torn up books and paper. Still-smoking curtains. Shattered items. Scattered belongings. Not to mention her very tasteful artworks which now decorated the bedding.
"Uh, I was trying to piss off Loki," she explained at last, as she turned back to face Thor in order to gauge his reaction.
Thor didn't bother to suppress the smirk that sentence drew forth from him.
"Ah, well, knowing my brother and the pride he takes in his belongings, I think it's safe to say that you've accomplished the task."
He took a few steps towards her and Reagan found herself strangely comforted by his proximity. Though she hadn't known Thor for long, he was the closest thing in all of Asgard that she had to a friend and it felt good to be around someone who held no ill will towards her after days of being tormented by his raven-haired brother. She felt safer. Calmer.
"So, I take it that the two of you aren't exactly getting along?" Thor asked.
"That would be an understatement," she said, her posture deflated a little.
Thor smiled.
"Well, I may just have some good news for you," he said, causing her to perk up. "My mother sent for you. She has returned from speaking with the High Priestess. I thought I'd find you in her chambers but-" he looked around once more. "-here you are."
Reagan's heart began to race. And as much as she didn't want to allow herself to feel hopeful, it seemed she had no choice in the matter. It was as though a dam wall inside her chest had just collapsed allowing hope to flood through every inch of her.
"She has news? She knows how to fix this?" Her voice sounded brighter than it had in days, even to her own ears.
"She did not tell me," said Thor. "But she's with Loki as we speak, explaining what she's learned."
"What are we waiting for?" Reagan said, excitedly. "Lead the way!"
She made beeline for the door but turned back to find Thor had stilled inside Loki's chambers, his gaze fixed upon the bookshelves.
"My God," he breathed.
Reagan followed his gaze and her eyes fell upon the crystal ball she had threatened to smash only moments ago.
"I haven't seen this in years," he murmured, moving slowly towards it, transfixed. "I didn't realise he still..."
Thor stretched out his fingers towards the orb.
"Don't touch it," Reagan said, quickly, surprising herself.
Thor stilled and turned his head to look at her. His expression matched the confusion Reagan felt herself.
"He wouldn't want you to touch it," she said gently.
She wrapped her arms around herself, uncomfortably. She knew how insane it sounded when Thor stood amid her destruction. But the sound of Loki's voice still echoed in her mind. It was important enough for him to beg her. For him to yield. And for whatever reason, she felt protective of it. It made no sense, and yet she was resolute. And she knew she was right; there was no way Loki would want Thor of all people to touch something so important to him.
"Come on," she inclined her head a little. "Let's go find your mom."
Thor nodded, glancing back at the orb once more before making his way to the door.
When they entered the Queen's sitting room, they found her sat in her chair, statue-still, her eyes closed and her hands cupped gracefully in her lap. Trance-like.
Upon seeing her, Thor extended an arm in front of Reagan drawing her to a stop. She looked up at him questioningly.
"She's with Loki," he murmured quietly.
Reagan's brow furrowed in confusion, surveying the otherwise empty room.
"What do you mean?"
Thor gestured to his temples for emphasis and then inclined towards his mother. Reagan looked over at her once again and this time she spotted it, a faint golden glow ebbing around the Queen's temples. A whisper of magic.
"She's projecting herself," Thor explained. "She's with him in his cell, at least an illusion of her is. They can see each other. Speak to one another.."
Reagan flicked her eyes quickly to Thor's and then back to Frigga once more. The longer she looked the more evident the glow of magic seemed to her.
"Wow," she breathed. "Is that something I can learn? My phone is kind of out of reception here. It'd be nice to be able to talk to people back home."
She smiled a little, trying to make the sentiment seem light-hearted but a deep ache swelled in her at the thought. She pushed it down, willing away the homesickness.
With any luck, it wouldn't be a problem for much longer after all, she reminded herself before the Queen's voice pulled her back to the present.
"Unfortunately, a projection of that distance is a little too ambitious for a beginner."
Thor and Reagan both turned their attention towards the Queen to find her eyes were open, trained on them.
"Proximity is important when you first start out," she continued. "And it helps to practice with someone who you share a bond with."
"A bond?" Reagan asked
"An emotional bond acts as a tether. It makes the spell work stronger," Frigga explained. "It's why I can visit Loki, even with the spells his prison cell has been enchanted with to seal in his powers."
The sentiment stirred something in Reagan. She'd been so caught up in her own distress about her situation that she hadn't given a moment's thought to how this whole mess might have been affecting the woman sitting opposite her. No matter what Loki had done, no matter how she felt about him, this was his mother. The past few days couldn't have been easy on her. Watching him come back after all he'd done, and watching him be imprisoned by his own father, it must have been painful for her. And the situation with the soul marks - well, Reagan hadn't exactly been kind about it.
"Thor," Frigga stood and approached her son to pat his arm affectionately. "I think Reagan and I should speak privately."
"Of course," Thor replied and leaned in to place a kiss on his mother's cheek.
He turned to Reagan and clapped his hand on Reagan's shoulder. It made her smile.
"I will see you later," he told her.
Reagan nodded, watching him go before turning back towards the Queen.
"Come," Frigga said, guiding her gently. "Let us have a seat."
Reagan complied, though she felt slightly uncomfortable being alone with this woman she barely knew for the first time. She took a seat and the Queen sat down opposite her. A gentle smile played upon her lips and she didn't speak. Almost as if she were waiting. Almost as if she knew there was something Reagan wanted to say to her first.
Seeing no point in putting it off, Reagan leaned forward in her chair, a little apprehensive.
"I, um... I think I owe you an apology," she told the older woman. "I said some things in front of you the other day about Loki that were... I shouldn't have said them. You're his mother, and you care about him. I just... I shouldn't have said them. I'm sorry."
Frigga smiled gently.
"I appreciate that," she said. "I know you haven't found this easy. And if I know my son, he's not been making it any easier."
Reagan bit down on about a hundred and thirty different retorts and instead opted to nod in agreement.
"He told me that the two of you aren't quite managing to get along."
Oh, is that how he put it? She thought to herself.
"No," she replied instead. "No, not at all. But hopefully, that won't be a problem much longer, right?"
Her stomach sank instantly in response to the way Frigga lowered her gaze.
"Right?" she pressed gently, but already she knew.
"I met with the witches," Frigga told her. "And with the High Priestess. Odin has had his scholars pouring over our texts. It seems that there is no way to undo the Mark of Sjelevii. Once forged, it is unbreakable. Everlasting. It appears that you and Loki will be bound to one another... forever."
The colour drained from Reagan's face and her hands began to tremble. Bile fought its way up her throat. A deep well of anxiety swelled in the pit of her stomach and she forced herself to breath steady, making every attempt to keep calm.
"Forever," she repeated in a whisper.
"I understand that at first, this might appear to you as a burden rather than a gift. But you and Loki, you have so much that you could learn from one another. Perhaps if you can begin to think of the Mark as an opportunity - it may be good for you. Both of you."
"Your majesty-"
"Please," Frigga waved a dismissive hand. "I'm not your queen, dear. Call me Frigga."
"Okay," Reagan nodded, still trying to keep her temper even. "Frigga... Loki tried to take over my entire planet. He took control of my friend's mind. He tried to kill us. He succeeded in killing a lot of people... I'm sorry, there's just- there's no way I can ever look at this link between us as a positive thing. To think that I could ever fall in love with him? It's just not possible. And I'm sure he said the same about me. He can't stand me. I don't think he even sees me as a person, let alone... Whatever this mark means- whatever force decides who should get paired up, it got it wrong. So we can't just- just-"
"There have been matches throughout our history who were not bonded romantically," Frigga interrupted gently. "Some soul bonds, though much rarer, become platonically bonded. They're said to have been friendships stronger than anything most of us might be lucky enough to experience. A feeling of home - of family - no matter how far you roam from each other. Your person to walk through life with you, for you never to feel alone, for you to always be able to rely on their guidance, support, their trust as you each navigate your way down your own separate paths. Perhaps, that is what the Mark is supposed to mean for you."
Reagan willed away the tears pooling in her eyes as she shook her head, rejecting the idea.
"No," she murmured. "We won't be that either. I'm sorry but... I just don't want it. I don't want any of it."
Frigga didn't respond to that, for what was there she could say? Instead, she reached out to squeeze her hand comfortingly as a tear spilled down Reagan's cheek.
The moment she closed the door to her chambers Reagan turned the lock and leaned heavily against the door. She lifted her forehead just enough to thump it back down hard against the wood. She ignored the dull ache it created, repeating the action again a little harder as tears stung her eyes. Anger, frustration, fear, despair. Each of them swelled in her chest, battling for dominance. She thought perhaps they were all winning.
The swirl of emotions was so overwhelming that she didn't immediately detect when they were met with more - emotions that weren't her own, emotions that were growing with every second that passed. Anger, resentment, and a bitterness like nothing else she'd ever experienced. She didn't know when he'd lowered his shields, all she knew was that he was inside her head once again with a front-row seat to her cocktail of misery, and it seemed that he did not at all like what he'd found there. His bitterness crashed over her once more, overwhelming her and she shook her head, hopelessly.
It was as if he was growing angrier at the discovery of her distress.
How was that fair?
After all he had done?
When she couldn't even be alone inside her own head?
Did she not have the right to be as upset as he surely was?
She hated him.
"So, I guess we're just stuck like this for the rest of our lives then," she said to him, evenly, managing to fight down the lump forming in her throat. "This is so fucked up."
You are stuck like this, he shot back at her, his voice laced with a newfound venom.
She flinched away from it, though she knew full well it was useless.
I have to endure you for a few short, mortal years, he went on, cruelly. Wait you out. Then I'll be free. But you, you'll never be rid of me. And I will devote my every moment you have left in this world to your anguish, you miserable creature.
Reagan was done trying to hold strong in front of him. She was tired. And alone. And... He was going to be in her head forever, he'd see every single time she'd cry because of him one way or another. So why not start now? She didn't fight it this time. She let despair wash over her as she sank to the floor, curling her knees into her chest as she let herself cry freely.
Chapter 6: Chapter 6
Chapter Text
Reagan walked out along the rainbow bridge enjoying the cool kiss of the evening breeze and the peaceful solitude the length of bridge seemed to promise. She still couldn't quite comprehend why; it was one of the most breathtaking sights she'd ever laid eyes on and yet the Asgardians only ever used the bridge to access the Bifrost, leaving it otherwise abandoned.
A week had passed since her conversation with Frigga about the permanence of the Mark of Sjelevii. That meant it had also been an entire week since she had last interacted with Loki. Despite his threat to torment and torture her, he had retreated from her mind and slammed his shields down that night, and they hadn't budged since.
Reagan had wondered after a few days of radio silence if he'd perhaps realised he'd been a little too cruel to her that night, and was now giving her some space. She quickly dismissed the idea, determining it was too great an act of kindness. Whatever the true reason for his absence, she wasn't going to complain. She'd felt whispers of him here and there, but it had felt less like he was trying to invade her mind and more as though he'd let a stray thought trickle her way accidentally. She wondered if he'd been avoiding sleep just to keep the shields in place.
How long could an Asgardian go without sleep?
She'd have to ask Thor the next time she saw him. It had been almost a week since she'd seen him, too. Having the Tesseract back in Asgard had meant that Odin had established a working Bifrost once again and so Thor and his companions had eagerly headed off-world, with much work to be done throughout the Nine Realms having been cut off for so long.
And so it had been a lonely few days. Lonelier even, than when she'd first arrived in Asgard.
Word had well and truly spread by now of the mortal girl who shared the Mark of Sjelevii with the traitorous Loki. She'd overheard her handmaid, Malin, speaking in hushed tones to another woman when she'd returned to her chambers a few days earlier. The people were angry, she'd said. Sure, Asgard had sworn an oath to protect any future bearers of the marks from the Atraxis, but they had not anticipated that the bearers would be Loki, who had committed such heinous crimes, and some mortal girl who had such a fleetingly short lifespan anyway. It wasn't fair for their people to put themselves at such risk for the likes of them. If the Atraxis did come for them, was Asgard really expected to lay down their lives to protect them? Malin had divulged to her friend that the pair weren't even on speaking terms and so Reagan was fairly confident that information would be spreading through Asgard like wildfire too.
It had stung, overhearing that.
She liked Malin, and had thought Malin had liked her too.
But she could hardly blame her.
The Atraxis. She'd barely spared them a thought since all this had begun - yet they were the reason she was still even in Asgard. She'd been so consumed by trying to rid her mind of Loki's presence that they'd been the last thing she was worried about.
But the Asgardians, they seemed afraid. And if they were, then she probably should have been too. If they were to come for her, she couldn't let these people (as resentful as they were of her) risk their lives for her. She wondered if Odin had some other far, abandoned corner of the Universe he could stuff her away in instead. She wondered if they did come, would be better to just surrender herself to them? Asgard would likely hand over Loki as well, she supposed.
She shook her head. It all just seemed too outlandish for her to take seriously - for her to be afraid. It occurred to her that maybe if she did hand herself over she'd at least get to watch them roast Loki like a pig on a spit.
Silver lining, she thought to herself and she couldn't help but to smirk at how ridiculous her current train of thought had become.
Did Loki fear the Atraxis, she wondered. Was he at all worried that they would come for them?
And some small part of her itched to reach out and ask him.
But she knew his shields couldn't remain up forever. A clock was ticking down somewhere, she was sure of it, and soon enough she'd have him plundering through her thoughts once again. So she had no intention of poking that bear. Wanting desperately to savour any time she had before that happened, she did her best to suppress her dread and focus on the brilliant bridge of colours jutting out over the ocean.
"Are you making a getaway?"
Reagan turned, surprised that someone might be speaking to her.
A tall, blonde man stood behind her, smiling widely at her. She eyed him for a moment, unsure of what he meant before realising that he was familiar to her. She'd met him briefly, she realised, on yet another unsuccessful attempt to familiarise herself with the city.
"Oh, uh... Halvor, right?" she said, as the name came back to her. "Hi, what are you doing here?"
He moved to stand beside her, hands clasped behind his back.
"I saw you from the window," he inclined his head towards one of the many towers of the city behind them; such a contrast to the open expanse of ocean she'd been staring out over. "You looked as if you could use the company."
Reagan opened her mouth to respond but found she didn't really know what to say. In truth, she yearned for company. But not just anyone. She wanted to feel at home. She wanted her mother. Her old friends. Clint and Natasha. Perhaps even Thor. Still, she supposed he meant well and so she offered him a tight-lipped smile.
"I was just trying to clear my head," she told him, turning back towards the water again. "The past few weeks have been a lot."
"Are you alright?"
A short sharp laugh burst from her lips, surprising him.
"Sorry," she said. "I just- I have no idea how to answer that question."
"Ah," Halvor replied. "Suffice it to say that it would be something along the lines of 'no, I absolutely am not alright'?"
Reagan chuckled.
"Yeah, something along the lines of that."
She could sense him studying her and when she turned to look his way he shot his focus quickly back to the horizon, his cheeks tinged a soft pink. She too returned her gaze to the ocean as silence settled between them.
"So was I right?" he asked eventually.
She looked up at him, confused.
"About what?"
"Is this a getaway? Are you hoping to commandeer the Bifrost so you can return to Midgard?"
She knew he was trying to make a joke, but the question made her ache.
She let out a low sigh.
"Part of me thinks I should," she told him, earnestly. "I know going home wouldn't solve anything but at least I'd feel a little less like an outsider. And honestly, I think everyone here would be glad if I-"
"Not everyone," he interjected, with a small smile.
Reagan looked up to meet his eye and smiled a little too before dropping his gaze.
"You shouldn't listen to common gossip," Halvor told her and Reagan nodded, solemnly.
She considered feigning ignorance for a moment, but they both knew everyone was talking about her.
"Truth be told," Halvor continued, "a great many of them have spent their lives wishing that they'd be the next bearer. That they'd be given the gift of finding the other half of them."
She couldn't help but to scowl a little at that.
"Yeah, well, you can go ahead and tell them that if they want it, it's theirs. The mark and the asshole that comes with it."
Halvor turned to study her openly then.
"You know, I wouldn't worry so much about Loki if I were you."
"Easy for you to say," she grumbled. "But why is that?"
He gazed down at her for a few moments, a slow smile spreading across his face like warm honey.
"You just seem like a girl who makes her own fate," he said.
Reagan weighed his words. "I don't know about that."
They fell into another lull in the conversation which stretched just long enough that Reagan was about to say goodbye when Halvor spoke again, only just beating her to the punch.
"Would you like to have a drink with me?" he asked. "There's a tavern just up the way there."
"Oh, um..."
Halvor smiled.
"It's usually not very heavily occupied," he assured her, as if reading her mind. "You'd have about as many pairs of eyes staring at you as you do right now."
She breathed a soft laugh.
"Come," he said, his hand falling to the small of her back to guide her towards the tavern. "It'll do you good."
"You know what? Why not," she relented. "God knows I could use one."
True to his word, the tavern Halvor took her to was almost completely deserted.
When Reagan went to sit down, Halvor pulled her chair out for her.
When she asked if there was a menu, Halvor waved away the request and ordered two of something she'd never heard of before.
Annoyed as she was by this, she didn't say anything. She was, after all, on an alien planet. The chances of getting herself a Pina Colada were probably pretty slim.
"So," she began, once again a little uncomfortable after they'd settled in. "What is it that you do? I mean, do Asgardians have jobs? Or are you all just warriors?"
Halvor tilted his head back and laughed.
"There are a wealth of jobs all throughout Asgard. However, yes, I myself am a warrior. I live for the battle. Thrive on it. I suspect that's something you and I have in common."
Reagan wrinkled her nose in disagreement.
"I don't know. Before I got my powers I'd just finished a communications degree and had I no idea what I was going to do with it. But then what happened happened and I went into training with this government organisation to learn to control my flames because I had no other choice. It was never my intention to fight. And when Loki came with his army, SHIELD threw everything they had at him. Me included. New York was the first sort of battle type situation I've ever been involved in... it was nothing like I expected. And honestly, I was in way over my head. But we won, so, I guess that makes me undefeated, right?" She laughed a little, attempting to lighten the mood.
Halvor was staring at her again, arms folded over a broad chest.
"What?" she asked him at last.
"You're special, Reagan," he told her. "A mortal with the ability to summon forth an element. And to have been gifted with the Mark of Sjelevii. You deserve far better than the likes of Loki Odinson. You deserve to be courted by a man of a much higher calibre."
It was such a strange shift in the conversation that it jarred her a little. She cocked her head.
"Um, well thanks, I guess, but... I'm not here to be courted," she told him, pointedly. "By anyone, Halvor."
The pair eyed each other for a moment, tension suddenly rising between them. The way he was staring her down, Reagan soon realised that he was waiting for her to be one to submit. To play the part of the shy young girl blushing under the intense attention of the charming stranger. She'd be doing no such thing. Instead, she stared right back at him, her expression growing cold.
"I've made you uncomfortable," Halvor said at last. "I apologise. I wasn't trying to-"
"Really?" she cut him off. "Because it definitely sounded like you were."
"Forgive me," he went on. "I only meant to reiterate what I said earlier about him not determining your fate. I misspoke."
"Why don't we talk about something else?" she said instead of accepting his apology.
"Of course," he said brightly, with a forced smile. "What would you suggest?"
Reagan decided she couldn't wait for her drink to arrive. She had every intention of downing it as quickly as possible before making an excuse to get the hell out of there.
"Um, what was it like growing up in Asgard?" she asked, hoping that would be enough to shift his focus off of her.
Mercifully, it seemed to do the trick. Halvor quickly found his footing in the conversation once more and started on a tangent of various childhood memories while Reagan reclined back in her seat, only half listening and willing her drink to arrive.
At long last the barkeep hobbled up to their table, holding two matching goblets of deep indigo liquid. She thanked the barkeep as Halvor pushed one of the cups her way, all the while continuing with his story. She took it in both hands and brought it to her nose, sniffing experimentally. It smelled of plums and molasses and something else she couldn't quite place. She inhaled deeply once more, chasing the note that was eluding her when it happened.
Reagan froze the instant she felt it. After a whole week of walking around with the icy barrier at the corner of her mind's eye, the moment it budged even a fraction she could feel it like an earthquake. Her attention snapped towards the link, and anger rose in her like a flash flood as she felt him slink his way back into her mind.
Go. Away. She snarled at him instantly, attempting to bring her own shield up. She pictured her bed of thorns growing thicker and more grotesque, weaving jagged razor wire through any gaps she thought she might find.
Loki fought against it, harder than he ever had. There was an urgency to the way he forced his way in.
Reagan, you need to listen to me.
She hesitated. It was the first time he'd ever called her by her name. Her brow furrowed as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.
What do you want? She asked, still bristling at his very presence.
Her eyes were still trained on Halvor as he continued his story, but her focus now belonged to Loki.
Do not drink that, he said to her, sternly. Put it down and don't touch it again. Don't take anything he tries to make you drink.
A chill swept through her.
Why are you saying that?
You're not safe with him.
The pit of her stomach seemed to turn to ice at his warning. She eyed Halvor as he continued his tale, a light, carefree smile upon his features. He didn't seem to detect her unease.
Reagan leaned forward slowly, her eyes still trained on the blonde man opposite her, as she placed her cup down on the table between them.
If this is some sort of trick-
It isn't, Loki insisted, sounding frustrated.
A swirl of apprehension trickled down the link and Reagan's pulse quickened the moment she felt it. Loki was worried... worried for her.
It made no sense.
"Reagan?"
Her eyes snapped up to Halvor's.
"Hmm?" she asked.
"Are you alright? You seem distracted."
Tell him you're fine.
"I'm- I'm fine," she managed to squeeze out.
"Are you sure?"
Loki, you better tell me what's going on right this second.
"Yeah... yeah everything is fine."
Reagan, I know that you have no reason to trust me but you do trust my brother. Mention Thor, and say you want to go find him. He will say anything to stop you.
Reagan weighed Loki's words carefully. If Loki was lying to her, all that would happen was that she'd remove herself from a situation that she didn't want to be in anymore anyway. But if he was telling her the truth, and she stayed just to spite him...
"Halvor," she interrupted the tale he was still rambling on about. "I'm so sorry, but it's just occurred to me that I'm supposed to be meeting with Thor."
Halvor stilled, and the way he looked at her was all the confirmation she needed. She'd just gone off the script he was having them play to. Again. And he wasn't happy.
"What?" He asked. "Now?"
"Thanks for this," she said as she stood from her chair. "And I'm sorry. Maybe some other time."
She turned to make her way to the exit but a vicelike grip caught her wrist.
Reagan, get out of there, now.
She felt Loki's fury flooding down the link, crashing over her panic like a tidal wave, as she turned to face the man who towered over her. She'd forgotten until he had grabbed her, that Asgardians didn't just have extended lifespans. They were also so much stronger. It was as if a giant statue had wrapped its marble fingers around her wrist.
She pulled against his grip defiantly.
"Let me go," she said through gritted teeth.
"I could make you happy," Halvor insisted, desperation in his voice.
A beat of stunned silence passed as Reagan's brain struggled to comprehend the fact that he'd really just said that.
"What?!" Reagan asked in sheer disbelief.
"I could be better than him," he said, as his grip on her tightened once again. "I could be everything you need."
"Let me go," she hissed at him.
"I need to see the mark. Just show it to me."
"Get your hands off me!"
Halvor shrieked in pain as Reagan's whole body erupted into searing hot flames.
He staggered back, holding his ruined hands helplessly in front of him, now trembling in pain. He looked up to stare at her in wide-eyed horror.
Her dress was all but ruined, falling off her in charred scraps, exposing her. Still, she stared him down defiantly, tongues of fire still dancing all around her.
"If you ever touch me again, I'll roast you alive," she promised him in a low voice, before quelling her flames.
She turned towards the door and mercifully, a deep navy cloak hung on a hook nearby hook. No one protested as she grabbed it unceremoniously and wrapped it around herself, before hurrying out of the tavern without so much as a glance behind her.
She strode through the streets as quickly as her feet would carry her without breaking into an all-out sprint. She forced herself to round five different corners before she, at last, allowed herself to lean against a wall to collect herself.
She sucked in deep, shuddering breaths and pulled the cloak tighter around her body as she began to shake with the aftermath of adrenaline.
Are you alright? Loki asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.
"No," she barked at him. "I'm not. What the fuck was that? What the fuck is wrong with everyone on this goddamn planet?!"
Most Asgardians have some penchant for magic but for most it's limited.
Reagan could tell that Loki was attempting to keep his voice even with suppressed anger. Anger that, for once, was not directed at her.
Halvor is one such individual. Since we were young he has endlessly attempted to cast beyond his skill level, it's left him half-crazed.
"Okay? What does that have to do with me?"
He's always been envious of my affinity for the art. I think due to the mark, he saw you as some sort of conquest. He has always wanted to covet what's mine-
"I am NOT yours," she spat back at him in her fury.
No, Loki agreed. But he doesn't see it that way. I knew what he was doing when he approached you the other day. I just never thought the vile pustule would stoop to such depravity.
Reagan stilled, trying to wrap her head around what Loki was telling her.
"That drink, what was it?"
A type of Asgardian liqueur. Harmless to him or me, but for a mortal like yourself. A single sip would have rendered you unconscious.
"From a liqueur?" she confirmed.
Indeed. And Halvor was well aware of the fact.
Fury bubbled up in her once again.
"I should have burned him alive."
She was met with a few beats of silence before Loki responded.
Yes, his voice was dark. Yes, you should have.
Reagan furrowed her brow as a new thought dawned on her.
"Wait, so that day in the garden, when you started harassing me," she said, shaking her head. "Were you trying to help me?"
Loki didn't respond, but she felt it down the link. The fact that she was right.
Reagan actually laughed a little.
"I just thought you were trying to make my life miserable."
Well, that has been the trend. I figured annoying you into leaving was the easier alternative to getting you to believe me.
"You're probably not wrong," she relented. "Wow, so you saved me from getting roofied and a garden walking tour. I guess I really owe you one."
To her surprise, amusement trickled down the link.
What were you doing in Frigga's garden anyway?
"One of the maids told me it was the best thing to see in Asgard," she admitted.
What?!
She jolted a little, not expecting such a strong reaction.
You should have her dismissed.
"Well, I'm not going to do that so..."
Are you certain? She told you the Queen's garden was the first thing you ought to see? Loki scoffed. This entire planet is teaming with imbeciles.
"Okay, but to be fair, you seem to think that about most planets."
And I stand by it.
Reagan couldn't quite suppress her smirk.
Wouldn't you agree? Loki pressed. Just based upon the limited company you've managed to drum up during your time here.
"Hey, come on," she said. "Give me a break. It's not exactly easy making friends here with the reputation you've saddled me with, thank you."
Now, how did I know that would be my fault?
"Because everything is, obviously, " she responded, playfully. "Do try to keep up."
What was happening here? Was she actually bantering with Loki? Perhaps just breathing in the fumes of the liqueur had left her a little tipsy. Whatever the reason, she decided to run with it. It was strangely helping to calm her nerves.
"Okay, so if not the gardens, then what? What do you think I should go see?"
She waited as she felt him contemplating. There was something to it. Something that gave her a sense that he hesitated, not because he was unsure of what to suggest, but because he didn't know if it was a secret he wanted to give away.
Tomorrow morning, he said at last. Before dawn, take this path and wait for the sun to rise.
A new sensation swept through Reagan's mind, though it was not an unpleasant one. It was strange that her first instinct wasn't to fight against it but to welcome it. A new memory filled her mind, one that was not hers. One that showed her a pathway through the city and into the surrounding mountainsides. One that faded right before it got to the ending.
I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, he told her when he sensed she was perplexed by it.
"Why are you being nice to me?" she asked softly.
But this question, Loki didn't answer. Instead, he retreated back into his own mind. She let it go and slowly made her way back to her chambers. All the while she was hyperaware that Loki didn't fully seal his shields back up until she was safely back behind the locked doors of her room.
She wasn't sure why she was doing it. The sensible thing would have been to forget the whole encounter and to go about her business as usual. She could have chalked it up to even Loki having a limit to what he could stand by and watch happen - Halvor having surpassed that limit. But curiosity had gotten the better of her, and that's how Reagan found herself in the earliest hours of the morning, making her way alone down a trodden path through a lush forest with a palmful of flames to light her way.
Before long, the trees grew more sparse and the underbrush began to clear and the path Reagan followed gave way to a clearing. Reagan stepped out into it and dowsed the flames she held in her palm as the morning sun glowed just beyond the distant mountain peaks just enough to light the view before. She found herself standing on a cliff face, high above a sprawling view of tree-topped mountainsides. A massive lake was at its centre, adorned with cascading waterfalls of all sizes, from gentle trickles to mighty gushing columns of water. The lake itself was so clear Reagan could see the bottom. She thought, at first, that the water was reflecting the glittering lights of the stars overhead, but she soon realised the bottom of the lake was decorated with a hundred thousand tiny glowing lights. She had no idea what they were, but there was something to them that told her they were a natural phenomenon.
When the first rays of sunlight, at last, burst forth from behind the mountain the air, it distracted her from the lights in the lake and swept the breath right out of her lungs.
Tendrils of glimmering lights shot out over the open valley. Reagan had thought the colours of the Rainbow Bridge were the most brilliant she had ever seen. She was wrong. Throughout the valley, waves of light danced and swayed, as if the cool morning breeze was coaxing them into movement.
All around her as the sun continued to pour into the gorge, the forest was waking up. Songbirds echoed from every direction. Morning dew allowed the tree tops to glisten as they were bathed in the first strokes of the day's sunlight.
When she looked up, Reagan realised that the sky above was so vast that half of it was still cloaked in the dark of night, stars blazing and as she turned her head she could track the gradient of night fading into day above her, all while the rainbow lights danced over a glittering lake below.
This time, when he entered her mind, he moved gently and she didn't feel the need to fight it.
Thoughts? Loki said by way of greeting. It was the first time he'd spoken to her since their conversation yesterday.
She smirked.
"Can't you read them?" she challenged.
I was trying to be polite.
She quirked her head to the side.
"Look at you, trying new things. How are you finding it?"
I don't really care for it if I'm honest.
She laughed softly before they fell into a strangely comfortable silence. Reagan had to admit, this temporary ceasefire between them was oddly cathartic. Sitting there under the swaying lights, overlooking a glimmering lake and endless mile of lush, green forest. No presence tearing through her memories and no wall of ice looming just beyond the corner of her eye... She knew she was walking a tightrope - just one tiny misstep and it would be over. But for now, she felt like she could breathe properly for the first time since she'd stepped foot in Asgard.
"Thank you for showing this to me," she murmured as she gazed unblinkingly at the sight before her. "Can... can you see it too?"
I can, he said, hesitantly. Is that an issue?
She supposed it should have been, but at that moment as she basked in the incredible sight before her she couldn't bring herself to care. So instead, she shook her head.
"Like I said, I owe you one."
Loki seemed content with that response.
"It's funny," she told him. "This is the reason I was in Norway. This is the type of thing I went to see. They're called the aurora borealis on Earth. But you can only really see them at night and at certain times of the year. They're mostly greens. And they're beautiful, they really are. But this... This is- I never could have imagined anything like this."
I'm glad that you like it. Loki said earnestly. There are few I've told about this place so j ust promise me you won't go bringing our dear friend Halvor up here.
"Tsk, but look at all these cliff faces I could push him off," she protested.
Loki laughed suddenly - genuinely.
My, my, planning to lure a man to his death. I fear I might be rubbing off on you.
Reagan huffed out a laugh. "You know, I did have my suspicions that maybe that's what this was. You somehow leading me to my 'accidental' demise."
The thought did cross my mind.
"It's what I would have done. If roles were reversed."
And despite talks of murdering each other, they soon fell into a comfortable silence once again and watched until the sun rose high enough into the sky that the light effects finally began to fade away. Watching them disappear, Reagan felt an unexpected lump forming in her throat. It felt symbolic, as though it marked the end of their strange little truce.
"Loki," she forced herself to say his name, as it felt as though time was running out. She felt vulnerable. Carved open. And she was certain he could tell. "Please, help me. I can't- I can't live like this. It's not right. I feel like a prisoner inside my own head. And surely, don't you want to be rid of me too?"
Silence. Agonising silence.
The seconds ticked by slowly and Reagan grew crestfallen, figuring he wasn't going to respond.
I can block you out, he said at last. So what's in it for me?
"Not while you're sleeping, you can't."
Her heartbeat quickened. She knew it was a risk to bring that night up, but she was getting desperate. She could feel him slipping away, closing up.
"I know how much you hated that you let me in. I know you don't want it to happen ever again."
She felt a twinge of hostility shoot down the link but she pressed on.
"Loki, I know you well enough now to know that you're not planning to stay in that cell for very long," she said, boldly. "I know it's only a matter of time until you figure something out - a way to escape. And I know that you have a way to hide yourself from Heimdall. But you don't know how to hide from me. I can feel you, even when you're blocking me out and I could tell them where to look for you. After all, you'll need to sleep eventually."
His agitation was building, she could feel it seeping, oppressively over her.
"But if you help me. If show me how to block you out with strong, proper barriers then I will leave them up forever," she promised. "I'll never even peek. If they ask, I'll tell them you're too well hidden, that there's nothing I can do. So long as you leave Midgard alone."
Reagan waited patiently after that, allowing Loki time to consider her offer. It was a long time before his voice sounded in her mind again.
I could just wait you out, he said at last. Wait until you meet a mortal end. Then I wouldn't have to rely on you keeping your word.
"After your mother came back from speaking with the High Priestess, she told me that this power I have - whatever it is - it's Asgardian. They think there's a chance it could extend my lifespan by a few decades."
Or it could burn you out all the quicker.
"It could," she agreed. "But are you really prepared to take that risk? Are you prepared to rot away in there for decades, when I'm offering you a chance to get out so much sooner than that? When all you'd have to do is teach me this one thing?"
Loki fell quiet, and she tell she almost had him. He just needed one final push.
"It's not like you've got anything better to do at the moment," she added and bit her lip nervously, hoping that wasn't a misstep.
To her surprise, Loki laughed.
Here I was thinking that the one final push might be a form of flattery.
Her cheeks reddened.
"This is so weird," she shook her head, laughing along a little too. "I completely forgot you could hear-"
You manipulating me? Loki finished for her, but his tone was light. Yes, I can.
"Well? Did it work?"
Loki sighed in defeat.
Very well, mortal. If I have your word, then I'll teach you.
"Okay," she responded, her heart slowly beginning to flutter with newfound hope. "So, it's a truce then?"
Yes, I suppose it is for now.
"Okay," she nodded. "You know, that means you're going to have to back off with all the dream-walking shit, right? You can't just keep tormenting me if we're going to do this."
Amusement whirled down the link.
The best I can promise is to dial it back by twenty per cent, Loki countered. You can't ask the God of Mischief to swear to be a saint.
And though she rolled her eyes, she couldn't help but to smirk.
"I'll take it."
Chapter Text
It surprised Reagan to no end to learn that once Loki stopped devoting all his efforts to making her life a living hell, he was actually kind of... tolerable.
He was witty and clever and easily held a conversation, even if he did prefer for those conversations to be more centred around himself than anything else. They seemed to quickly form a natural pattern of banter, and it pained her to admit that even though most of his jokes were at her expense, she maybe even kind of found him a little bit funny.
More surprising still, was that he was also a fairly patient teacher. He explained each concept to her thoroughly, and if she didn't understand something, rather than speaking down to her, he would work with her until they both felt they were on the same page. He didn't lash out at her like she first suspected he would if she made mistakes. Instead was he constructive, observing her approaches with care and offering specific and detailed advice.
All that being said, it would be a cold day in hell when she would ever willingly admit any of that to him.
Think of a memory. One that you don't mind sharing with me, Loki instructed calmly.
Reagan sat on her bed, cross-legged, concentrating on the presence in her mind. It had been a few days, but it was still strange to accept Loki's presence there instead of fighting him out. There was still something a little fight-or-flight in her, a need to force him out and protect herself. But in the days since their conversation at sunrise, Loki was yet to overstep, and so she did her best to suppress the urge to force him from her mind. Instead, she closed her eyes and listened to his instructions.
She thought for a few moments before something involuntarily rose to the surface and Reagan had to chew at her lip, willing away her grin. The memory flooded forward freely, the Hulk thrusting out a gigantic green hand to wrap it tight around Loki's leg, sweeping it out from under him and-
Hey, Loki interjected. I thought we had a truce.
"I know, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to," she promised, still fighting against her smirk.
Reagan shook the image from her head and tried again. She squeezed her eyes shut and thought back to when she was younger, looking for something harmless but happy. Something he couldn't glean useful information about Earth from, and also something she didn't think he could taint with snide remarks.
A bonfire on a beach soon bloomed in her memory and she knew instantly that it was the right one. It had been the end of summer, right before she was about to leave for her solo trip to Norway. One of her last memories of normalcy before she had acquired her powers. Her friends had all gathered for some drinks at sunset to see her off. It was probably the last time she'd seen most of them. But it had been a good night. Not one of their all-time best, and far from one of their worst. A gentle memory.
"Okay," she told him, turning it over in her mind, replaying fragments of it almost involuntarily. "I've got one."
She could feel Loki watching it and was waiting for him to say something antagonising. About her friends who laughed a little too loud or how she'd accidentally rubbed a bit of sand in her eye at one point. Or perhaps the boy in the obnoxiously colourful shirt who slung an arm casually around her shoulder.
But instead, he nodded, approvingly.
Now imagine yourself putting that memory inside of a bubble.
"A bubble?" she repeated incredulously. "As in those things that are completely see-through and really easy to pop?"
This isn't a trick. You need to start small. First, you have to master surrounding the memory entirely before you can build the skills to reinforce the barrier.
"Okay, but if you say 'sike' I'm going to be so pissed off."
I don't know what that means.
"Forget it. Sorry, let's keep going," she closed her eyes and sucked in a deep calming breath. "Okay, memory in a bubble."
Reagan concentrated on the memory, feeling slightly ridiculous as she tried to imagine being completely surrounded by a bubble. She unconsciously turned her head as tried to picture a smooth surface splaying out around the fringes of her mind, connecting, encompassing, and leaving no gaps in its wake.
You're still trying to surround your entire mind. Loki's voice penetrated her state of focus, though he spoke gently. You need to remove yourself from the memory so that you don't feel the urge to engulf yourself along with it. The longer you stay inside the memory, the more the edges of it will unfurl. It will become large and unruly. You need to take a step back and look at it objectively. Try and shrink it down. Give it a beginning and an end. It can help to envision it as a light in a pool of darkness. And once you achieve that you can begin to encompass it in a protective case. Remember, you have to start small.
Reagan didn't answer, but she listened to each instruction carefully and nodded in acknowledgement. She focused hard, removing herself from inside the moment and allowing it to drift away from her in a pool of darkness. As she watched it drift out inside her mind she visualised it growing smaller and smaller, until she could see all parts of it as a singular. When at last it felt small enough - manageable enough - she visualised the bubble surrounding it and smiled a little as pride swelled in her at the achievement. Still watching the newly encased memory, she couldn't help but think that it reminded her a little of a snow globe and instinctively turned the shell she'd captured it within to glass.
Loki watched on, and she waited as he inspected her handiwork.
That's actually not bad, he praised, sounding slightly impressed.
"Thanks," she replied, surprised.
-for an idiot, he added quickly.
Reagan didn't fight the smile that bloomed on her lips.
Let's try another.
They worked for hours, slowly making progress until Reagan was able to fully encase a memory in a strong enough shield that Loki could no longer view it. Her excitement at the achievement was rather short-lived however when she discovered just how easily Loki was able to penetrate it when he applied just a small amount of effort, or worse still, how easily he could manage to distract her from holding the shield in place.
Reagan threw herself back onto her bed with a huff.
Don't be so hard on yourself, Loki told her. We've only just begun and you've come a lot further than most people do at the beginning.
"How did you learn so quickly then?" she asked, frustrated. "We'd had the marks for all of a few hours before you figured out how to shut me out."
Protecting my own mind from invasion is a skill I learned long ago. Many who practice magic do. In time it becomes a second nature. Our circumstance was just a little different and so it took me some time to figure out how best to adapt the skill.
Reagan breathed out a long sigh before sitting herself upright again. She braced her hands on the mattress behind her and readied herself.
"Let's try again," she said determinedly.
Perhaps you should rest.
"No, I'm ready."
You're not going to master this overnight.
"Not with that attitude."
Reagan-
"I want to get this right."
And I want you to rest that pea-sized thing you call a brain so you don't burn yourself out and render all my efforts here pointless.
"Well, that's not very nice."
I never agreed to be nice. The deal was to stop tormenting you so much. They're two very different things, I wouldn't have agreed to it otherwise.
A knock sounded at the door and both their attention snapped toward the sound. It wasn't often anyone called on her, and the maids had already come and gone for the morning. Reagan clambered quickly off the bed and pulled open the heavy door to reveal the beaming face of the God of Thunder.
"Thor," she breathed, happily. "When did you get back?"
Reagan smiled up at the man, all the while ignoring the way that Loki scowled and rolled his eyes and retreated slowly from her mind, leaving bitterness in his wake. Reagan did her best to force the feeling back down the link along with him, unsuccessfully so, only to earn a slight smirk from Loki.
"I wanted to extend an invitation to tonight's banquet," Thor said happily, oblivious to the small mental joust she was in the middle of. "We're celebrating the Bifrost connection being re-established. Mother says you've been spending a great deal of time here alone. It might do you good to get out and experience the festivities."
"Oh," she said, her heart sinking. "I don't know if that's such a great idea, Thor."
"Why not?" he asked, his brows drawing together in confusion.
Reagan hesitated, looking for the right words.
"I've heard the rumours," she admitted at last. "Your people aren't exactly thrilled that I'm here... I don't think they're going to want me showing up at one of their parties."
"Of course they will," Thor told her confidently. "That's what parties are for."
Reagan got the distinct impression that Thor was well accustomed to getting his way. She looked down at her feet, unsure of what to say.
"I understand that you're feeling out of place," Thor said, his voice gentle. "All the more reason for you to come. Get to know some of my friends. Let them get to know you. You might enjoy it."
Reagan looked up at him again and he smiled kindly. It made it very difficult to say no, even though she sorely wanted to.
"Reagan... You're not going anywhere anytime soon. You should probably try to make the most of your new home."
Home. That was the last word that came to mind for her when she thought of Asgard, but that didn't change the fact that Thor was right. She had no idea how long she'd have stay there for her own good. Maybe it was time for to try and make it just that. Home.
She dropped her gaze before nodding slowly, admitting defeat.
"Okay," she relented, at last. "You're right, I'll give it a shot."
Thor brought his hands together in one alarmingly loud clap.
"Wonderful," he exclaimed. "I shall see you tonight then."
With his goal achieved, Thor turned to go before hesitating and looking back at her once more.
"You know, I first went to check if you were still wreaking havoc in Loki's chambers," he told her with a playful smile.
"Ah," Reagan smirked back. "Well, believe it or not, we've kind of come to a temporary ceasefire. It was that or it was going to end in bloodshed so..."
She saw something shift in Thor, something she couldn't quite read. He was still smiling, but it no longer reached his eyes.
"Well, I have to say I'm impressed," he told her, there was a tell-tale strain of emotion to his voice. "It's more than I ever managed with him."
Sympathy rose in her chest as it suddenly dawned on her just how much Thor had sacrificed just a few short weeks ago when he had come to Earth and stood by their side during the battle of New York. He'd face more than just an army. He'd given more of himself that day than any of them had any right to ask. And he'd done so willingly, without protest, without thought.
He was a good man.
"I haven't thanked you," she realised out loud.
"For what?"
"You fought for us," Reagan replied. "He's your family. But you fought us, and you helped us win. That can't have been an easy thing for you to do so... thank you, Thor, really. Thank you."
Thor studied her once more before bowing his head in acknowledgement.
"See you at the banquet," was all he said to her before he turned to take his leave.
"Be honest with me," Reagan murmured to Loki as she fiddled with her hair. "Is this going to be as bad as I'm expecting it to be?"
Worse, he sneered.
"Are you just saying that to get under my skin?"
No.
"Are you just saying that to get under my skin?"
Loki smirked. Perhaps just a little.
She huffed and smoothed her hair out once again as she stared at herself in the mirror. She wore a floor-length lilac dress, it was made of the softest satin she'd ever touched which caught the light beautifully as she turned this way and that. The way it clung to her figure was almost alarmingly flattering and the colour made her skin appear slightly more olive than it really was. Malin had tailored a single sleeve to hide the mark for her, and both had agreed it looked prettier with just the one. It was gorgeous. Far more gorgeous than anything she'd ever owned.
For the umpteenth time that night considered taking it off and just hiding away in her room for the rest of the evening.
Oh, for the love of- Just go, Loki groaned. I don't know what you're so worried about. From what I gleaned from your memories you used to thoroughly enjoy social events.
"That was different," Reagan replied, not liking the vulnerability she'd allowed to slip into her voice. "That was always with a bunch of regular people who I usually kind of already knew. And we weren't in an enormous golden palace that belonged to a king. And I hadn't been branded with a freaking scarlet letter."
Have I not asked you to tone it down with the Midgardian references if you insist on involving me in your internal monologues?
"I'm sorry, I'm nervous."
Reagan gave in at last and made her way towards the banquet hall.
She prayed that it was just her imagination, but the moment she stepped into the marvellously decorated room a hush fell over the crowd and heads turned in her direction. She felt their eyes on her and many of them began to whisper behind cupped hands as if she couldn't them staring. She watched as their eyes travelled to her right forearm, disappointed to find the mark concealed.
I was right, she thought, totally should have stayed in my room.
Pay them no mind. They're all just dull gossips.
Easy for you to say, hidden away in your cushy little prison cell. God, I would kill for a good prison cell right now.
Loki let out a soft laugh.
Reagan's eyes mercifully fell upon a nearby table decorated with glass towers of varying colours, each filled with different beverages.
"Oh, thank god," she muttered out loud as she moved towards them, desperate for something to help calm her nerves.
She reached for a glass before Loki stopped her.
Not that one, he said quickly.
Reagan froze mid-action, recent events flickering through her mind. She withdrew her hand slowly.
Okay, she said. Which one then?
See the blue chalices to your right? They should be safe.
Are you sure? she asked as she reached for one, hesitant now. She lifted the cup to her nose and gave it an experimental sniff but found no detectable odour.
Quite sure. It's a lot more subtle. Do be cautious though, it still may have a little kick to it for mortal senses.
Reagan took a small sip, wincing in preparation for the alcoholic burn that never came. She swirled the liquid around in her mouth experimentally before she rolled her eyes and swallowed.
This is water.
Loki snickered, it is indeed.
She put the glass down forcefully.
You are such a dickhead, she told him.
Every word out of your mouth just has a true eloquence to it, doesn't it?
Reagan was just formulating a rebuttal with a good load of 'true eloquence' when a chill swept through her as she looked up to lock eyes with Halvor, already watching her.
He stood, stoic, leaning up against the wall, as if he'd been there for some time. Reagan got the distinct feeling that he'd been waiting there for her. Both of his hands were bandaged and glared at her with pure hatred in his eyes.
Loki's rage swelled along beside her own. It felt like armour.
She held Halvor's gaze, glaring back as he watched her for a few moments before he turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Pay him no mind, Loki said. He won't dare give you any trouble in such a crowded place. Especially not with Odin himself in attendance.
I'm not afraid of him, she told him, steadily.
She was surprised that her words were met with a small swell of pride.
I know you're not.
A sudden gasp rang out then, stealing Reagan's attention and she turned to find a couple eagerly making their way towards her. They were dressed in matching colours - layers of fine fabrics of the boldest reds and starkest whites. They wore jewels, far more than anyone else in the room. And they clung to each other like they were making a show of it. Reagan glanced helplessly around the room as they zeroed in on her.
"You're her, aren't you?" The woman said, excitedly. "The mortal girl."
"Uh, Reagan," she offered, a little uncomfortably.
The man beside her took hold of her sleeved arm, pulling her slightly off balance as he drew her closer.
"Hey," she protested.
"What an interesting choice to hide the mark that everyone is so desperate to see," he observed as Reagan pointedly pulled her arm out of his grasp. "Are you leaving us in anticipation on purpose?"
"Perhaps she's just embarrassed by it, darling."
The man scoffed, lightly, at his partner.
"Why would anyone be embarrassed to make a show of finding their soulmate? It's the highest honour imaginable. Unless... oh..."
He gave her a most insincere look of sympathy she'd ever seen in her life.
"You do like men, do you not?" he probed, his voice dripped with feigned innocence.
Reagan squinted at him a little.
"Not particularly, but I am attracted to them if that's what you're asking."
Approval pulsed down the link.
Not bad, mortal. You may yet survive the night.
"Then whatever is the problem?" The man pressed on, giving a small, pompous laugh.
Reagan kept her gaze on him, well aware of what he was doing. He wanted her to admit that she didn't want to be paired with Loki. They wanted her to give them an opening - the ammunition - to let loose. She found the thought left her feeling strangely protective, though she wasn't exactly sure of what. Regardless, she determined that she wouldn't be giving them the satisfaction. Wordlessly, she continued to stare at the pair, a little curious as to what they'd try if she didn't engage.
"Darling, be kind," the woman chided with mock sympathy when Reagan refused to take the bait. "It's not her fault that her pairing is so unsavoury. It must be unbearable."
This is so unbelievably rude, she said to Loki. I can't believe this is happening.
Yes, welcome to high society.
They're making out like we don't even like each other.
We don't like each other.
Yeah, I know, but they don't know that.
"Well, at least I know now. I don't have to wonder. You know what I mean?" she said boldly, though she maintained a tight, polite-looking smile. "It must be difficult for the two of you."
"Difficult?" the man scoffed. "How so?"
"Well, you don't have marks," she flicked her eyes down to their naked arms and then back to their faces. They shifted a little under her gaze. "It must feel strange to have chosen to be together knowing that you're not actually meant to be and that any given day, at any random moment, one of you could accidentally brush up against some - just like I did - and everything changes. I can't imagine the burden of having that possibility playing in the back of your mind. I feel a little sorry for you."
When they didn't respond immediately, each floundering for something to say, she waved a dismissive hand.
"But I mean, it's not really something to worry about. The chances of it happening are probably pretty slim. Anyway, it was lovely to meet you both."
She could feel Loki's satisfied smile growing wider and wider.
That interaction turned out to be the first of many of its kind. Asgardian strangers approached her either individually, or in small groups to poke and prod and try to get her to perform like a small dog begging for treats.
"And how old are you, my dear?" one man had asked.
"Twenty-six," she'd replied politely, wrongly assuming it to be a harmless question.
"My, my," he said, freely raking his eyes up and down her. "They certainly develop quickly on Midgard, don't they?"
"That's a weird thing to say to someone," she said, utterly bewildered.
No one else seemed to hear or acknowledge what she'd just said.
"Well, the mortal lifespan is just so short," another woman went on to comment, her long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulder, styled into an elaborate series of immaculate braids. "They have to achieve a lot in what little time they have."
Let's see if we can't put you on a slightly more even footing, shall we? Loki murmured. He seemed to be growing as fed up as Reagan was, and she was suddenly overwhelmingly grateful for his presence.
I'm in, she told him. What have you got?
"Tell me," the woman went on, patronisingly. "I'm not exactly sure how the educational process works on Midgard. Have you learned to read yet? Is that something mortals can do?"
Suggest to her that you think she'd look nice with short hair, Loki said calmly. Too calmly.
Reagan offered the woman a tight-lipped smile.
"Has anyone ever told you that you should cut your hair short? I think it would suit you," she said innocently.
A surprised swell of laughter rippled through the people standing around them, each of whom quickly attempted to smother the sound.
Reagan watched perplexed as the woman's face began to tinge red with embarrassment, her mouth pinching into an angry pout. Reagan just offered her another smile.
"Excuse me," Reagan turned then and made her way deeper into the crowd, putting as much distance between them as possible.
Why did that work? she asked, once she looked over her shoulder and could no longer see them through the sea of people.
We once had an encounter which eventuated with me, uh, shearing off most of her hair.
What?! Reagan had to suppress a giggle.
It was an utter hack job, she looked atrocious. It didn't seem to go over very well.
Oh, gee, I wonder why, Reagan replied, as she continued to make her way through the crowd. Listen, I know we've had our differences but I'm going to need you to pinky swear that you'll never do that to me.
Pinky swear? Loki repeated, unfamiliar with the phrase.
It's an unbreakable promise.
Why is it pink?
Because you wrap your pinky fingers together when you make it like a seal. She envisioned the gesture for his benefit.
I'm sorry, said Loki, sounding suddenly scandalised. You're telling me Midgardians call it a pinky finger.
Yeah. Reagan said simply. Why? What do you call it?
A little finger.
Yeah okay, fine. We call it that too sometimes. It's not that weird.
Reagan sidled up to another table laden with drinks and reached for a chalice filled with a pale yellow liquid, and when Loki didn't protest she assumed it was safe for her to drink. Though he did seem otherwise occupied with his train of thought. She decided to risk it and took a swig.
...If I do break the promise what happens to my pinky?
Nothing, it's just symbolic.
Then why would it deter me from breaking the promise?
Okay, fine. Reagan responded, playfully annoyed. If you break the promise, I'll bite your pinky off.
Well, now you're just being childish, who does that benefit?
The Atraxis?
There was a beat of silence.
That's not funny.
It's a little funny, she smirked and brought her cup to her lips to hide her smile.
Why'd you cut her hair off anyway? What did she do?
Nothing really, Loki admitted. She was asleep next to me and I thought it might be amusing.
Reagan choked suddenly on her drink.
I'm sorry, are you telling me you did that after you slept with her?!
A slow grin spread over Loki's features.
Is that a hint of jealousy I detect?
Reagan rolled her eyes.
Oh yeah, Loki, I'm absolutely green with envy. Especially now that I know you go all praying mantis afterwards.
Loki's laughter rang out in her mind and she couldn't help but to find it mildly contagious. Reagan soon she found herself standing alone in a crowd in a fit of giggles.
"Oh, my god," she murmured to herself, bringing her hand up to cover her face. "I must look so crazy right now."
"Reagan!"
She whipped around to the sound of her name being called to find Thor striding towards her with open arms. The crowds parted to make way for the Prince and he bowed quickly when he reached her before righting himself and towering over her.
"Hey there," she said happily. "I was starting to think you'd invited me to a dinner you weren't even planning on showing up to."
Reagan felt the swell of now-familiar annoyance Thor seemed to illicit in Loki all too easily. He began to withdraw from her mind but this time she was quicker.
Where do you think you're going? she asked.
Loki, having never been asked to remain present in her mind before, actually hesitated.
What happened to even footing? Reagan asked. We're in too deep now. If I'm stuck here then so are you.
So be it, Loki responded at last.
"Come," Thor said, his hand falling to the small of her back. "I'd like for you to meet some of my friends. I've told them about your ability to wield fire. Volstaag prides himself on his endurance, I think he's eager to have you set at least a part of him on fire."
Is he serious? She asked Loki, even as she offered Thor a friendly smile.
It wouldn't at all surprise me. The man is a bigger buffoon than even my brother.
I like Thor, she told him earnestly, by way of defending him.
Now, why would you go and spoil our evening by saying something so abhorrent?
Reagan, once again, couldn't hold back a smile.
From her place at the King's table, high over the crowd, Frigga watched the mortal girl take her seat next to Thor. She'd been watching her for some time throughout the night. Frigga surveyed the way she weaved in and out of conversations with grace. The way she easily navigated which meads were safe for her to drink, though there'd be no reason for her to be equipped with that knowledge. More than once she'd even caught her smiling to herself, as if about something secret. And she seemed all too comfortable alone in that sea of strangers - almost as if she weren't alone at all.
Frigga said nothing to her husband. In truth, she hoped that Odin hadn't seen it - particularly when she'd watched as Reagan had started laughing out loud for seemingly no reason, nor the way that the girl spoke out loud to no one in particular before Thor had found her and guided her to join him and his friends.
Frigga said nothing.
And yet she wondered.
And yet she knew.
Chapter 8: Chapter 8
Chapter Text
It was a pleasure to find that Thor's closest circle of friends were a lot kinder and far more welcoming to Reagan than the other Asgardians she'd managed to interact with earlier that night. They talked animatedly about their adventures and asked questions about her abilities and her experience fighting by Thor's side in New York. And she wasn't sure if it was Thor's doing or not, but mercifully they avoided any direct mention of Loki or the mark. As she listened on happily, laughing with the others, as Volstagg stood from the table and started recounting an animated tale, a warmth spread through her finally having found herself surrounded by people who treated her normally.
Loki, however, was less than impressed to find himself inadvertently in their company.
I can't believe I'm locked in a prison cell right now and I still have to endure this infernal story, he groaned.
Oh, come on. It's not that bad, Reagan replied. I think you just like to dislike people.
She felt the way Loki quirked an eyebrow at the comment.
The beast's eyes glowed like Hellfire... he told her then, in a low, dramatic tone.
"The beast's eyes glowed like Hellfire!" Volstagg proclaimed promptly afterwards and Reagan had to hide her mouth behind the cup she was holding so that no one saw the way she smirked.
It unlatched its jaw, revealing endless rows of hideous teeth, all sharper than my own blade...
"It unlatched its jaw, revealing endless rows of hideous teeth, all sharper than my own blade!"
Okay, Reagan conceded. I see your point.
I truly think he tells himself this story before he goes to bed each night, Loki said.
Reagan reached for the platter laden with food in the table centre to distract herself from laughing. She picked up a crisp-looking wafer, topped with a pale, salmon-coloured pâté.
Avoid that, Loki said, off-handedly. It tastes like radish.
How did you know don't like- Oh right, stupid question.
Reagan brought the wafer to her mouth and bit into it experimentally, before recoiling in disgust as the sharp flavour hit her tastebuds.
What ARE you doing? Loki asked, dumbfounded.
I wanted to see if you were telling the truth, she said simply as she returned the rest of the wafer subtly to her plate.
It truly astounds me that you don't fall over more often.
Shut up, she said without a trace of malice in her voice. Now, which of these drinks will get me don't-care-that-people-keep-staring-at-me drunk but not I-need-to-go-to-the-hospital drunk?
At Loki's suggestion, she picked up a glass. She tasted it experimentally and was pleased to find it tasted familiar - like wine from back home. Albeit, of far better quality than any of the bottles she'd normally buy herself, but still. It was comforting. She leaned back in her seat a little, savouring the small moment of familiarity. She missed wine. She missed a lot of things about home. Especially the small things. She missed ordering shitty takeout and curling up in baggy track pants on a frumpy lounge to watch bad reality TV. A complete juxtaposition to the way she was spending her evening tonight. Reagan seriously doubted that anyone in that banquet hall would appreciate her worn-out couch or the greasy pizza place just a few blocks from her apartment.
Her apartment - it was probably gathering dust by now. She wondered if there was a small pile of unopened bills accumulating in her letterbox. Her plants were probably all dead. And she was fairly certain she had a few dirty dishes still sitting in her sink, hopefully they hadn't brought ants. God. It was a good thing she'd never committed to getting that goldfish she thought might be a good idea to keep her company-
You know this isn't even really what happened, Loki told her, stirring her from her thoroughly depressing train of thought.
Reagan's brow creased momentarily in confusion before she came back to the present and realised Loki was referring to Volstagg who was still spinning his elaborate tale for them all.
What do you mean? Reagan asked, half-returning her attention to Volstagg, but more so waiting to hear what Loki had to say.
"The hideous creature showed no sign of slowing," Volstagg went on, dramatically, waving his arm around for emphasis. "He showed no sign of defeat, even after I'd robbed him of his eye! My blade was still embedded there within its bloody socket. But it mattered not, for I - bleeding and battered and without my weapon - was all that stood between the monster and the village of innocent onlookers."
The great lump wasn't trying to save anyone. Loki said, annoyed. In fact, he'd thrown away his battle axe because he's an impulsive fool and was making his best attempt to acquire a new weapon, all the while the beast was closing in on him. The oaf had no choice but to attempt to duck for cover when our good Lady Sif happened to get in his way which sent him sprawling. He grabbed hold of her breastplate as he was falling and, uh, relieved her of her attire, baring her for all to see.
Reagan gasped softly. No.
The beast was upon them and it was Sif who slayed it in the end. I personally believe she chose to exact her murderous rage upon the creature, rather than her age-long companion. Though, he did have her handprint branded across his face for the better part of the week that followed.
Reagan bit down on her smile.
Why wouldn't he just tell it that way? That's amazing.
My thoughts exactly. But Sif has forbidden him from ever breathing a word of the truth. And so he tells the story, completely omitting the fact that she was even there. I think he may fear her more than any monster he's happened to cross paths with.
Reagan's eyes fell upon Sif, who sat just a few seats up the table from her on the opposite side.
Reagan watched her for a few moments, the way she only half paid attention to the story - a tell-tale twitch of annoyance dancing at the corner of her lips that would have gone unnoticed without Loki's intel. There was no denying that she was a breathtaking sight to behold. She had features that most women on Earth would kill for, and long, raven hair that looked softer than silk. Her frame was slender and yet there was a true power to her, and it was evident from the way the Asgardians interacted with her that she had their truest and deepest respect. A perfect mix of delicate grace and stoic strength. Reagan had never found another woman more intimidating. Natasha included.
Have you ever cut her hair? Reagan asked suddenly, a small, unexpected pang of jealousy surprising her.
She caught the thought and shook her head to clear it, praying that she'd kept it shielded from Loki.
Good God, this wine is strong, she commented, placing the glass down resolutely.
Mercifully, she was spared from having to find out whether or not Loki had caught the thought as King Odin chose that moment to rise to his feet. He held a golden staff in his right hand and lifted it once to strike its heel against the ground to let out a resounding boom.
As the sound rang throughout the banquet hall all of Asgard fell silent and turned towards the noise. Reagan swivelled in her seat to survey the people around her and found that every last one was offering up their undivided attention to the Allfather. Figuring it was best to follow their lead, she settled back into her seat as subtly as possible to turn and look up at the one-eyed King.
Oh good, this ought to be enjoyable, Loki drawled sarcastically.
It's not just me, is it? The mood just got super sombre. Reagan asked, craning her neck to get a better look at the Allfather. I feel like there's a 50/50 chance we're all about to be put to death.
No, no, it's not you. That's just his natural candour.
Jesus. Bedtime stories must have been fun for you.
Loki scoffed.
"People of Asgard," Odin began. Even though he spoke calmly, his voice rang throughout the hall, crystal clear to each and every person present. "We have much to celebrate upon this eve."
Reagan glanced to Thor beside her to find him gazing up at his father, pride evident upon his features.
"Thanks to the valiant efforts of my son and heir, the mighty Thor, the Bifrost has been restored, reconnecting us to our brethren throughout the galaxy. Renewed peace treaties have been established between Norheim and Asgard and the abhorrent tirades of the traitor, Loki-"
Ope. Shout out! Reagan exclaimed, with a slight giggle.
The Asgardian wine had left her feeling tipsy and she tried to compose herself quickly, but she could feel the way that Loki absolutely beamed at her reaction which made it just a little more difficult.
"-have been brought to an end, and the traitor himself, to justice."
Beside her, Thor gave her an odd glance.
"Sorry," she whispered, ducking her chin as her cheeks heated up.
She knew she shouldn't have found the situation funny. In fact, she should have still been angrier than anyone else in that hall. But the Asgardian wine was strong and she was feeling at ease for the first time in weeks and her inhibitions had been lowered just enough to not-so-begrudgingly admit to herself that she was kind of enjoying Loki's running commentary on the evening.
She leaned her elbow on the table and propped her chin up on her hand as she watched the King continue his speech.
"Unfortunately, this night of celebration must be just that - a night. The fate of the Nine Realms hangs in a delicate balance and Asgard has much to prepare for. We must not allow ourselves to grow complacent. We cannot consider our Kingdom at rest. We must remain vigilant to the threats upon our horizon."
A hushed murmur swept through the crowd and Reagan was all to aware that great deal of attention shifted her way as a response. Though Odin did not say it, the implication was clear. She and Loki bore the marks, leaving Asgard at risk of attack from the Atraxis. Thankfully, liquid courage now flowed through Reagan's veins and for once the stares - the murmurs - didn't phase her. Instead, she gave her attention back to Loki, Odin's speech fading to become background noise.
He's a very sobering man, isn't he? Reagan commented, casually as she reached for a fresh glass of wine.
Amused approval once again pulsed down the bond.
Sobering may be exactly what you need right now, Loki prodded playfully and Reagan rolled her eyes, her heart only half in it.
Gimme a break, I'm just having a bit of fun. I don't know if you've noticed but I've been a little tightly wound lately.
Ah, then at least one of us has enjoyed ourselves tonight.
Pfft, don't lie. You've had fun, too.
"-and so, we honour you, my son," Odin raised a golden cup into the air by way of conclusion and a sea of people around Reagan followed suit. "To Thor."
I most certainly am not enjoying this.
Come on, who doesn't love a good toast?
"To Thor!"
"To Thor!"
"To Thor!"
All around her, voices bellowed in agreement as rapidly rising waves of annoyance ebbed off Loki, so palpable that Reagan was mildly surprised that the people around her couldn't feel it too.
She positively beamed as she thrust her own glass into the air enthusiastically, elated by any opportunity to get under his skin.
Loki's full attention snapped her way suddenly.
Don't you dar-
"To Thor!" Reagan exclaimed happily before Loki had a chance to finish his threat, a smile plastered upon her face as she brought the cup to her lips and drank deeply.
You thoroughly amuse yourself, don't you?
I absolutely do, yes.
Their would-be squabble was soon interrupted when soft, lilting music began to echo throughout the banquet hall. Reagan turned to look around and found about twenty musicians had positioned themselves all around the edges of the hall, holding unfamiliar-looking instruments. The music was tranquil and reverent, and even in those few opening moments of the notes washing over the crowd, a sense of ease settled over Reagan.
"Are we dancing?" Reagan asked in a soft voice, not wanting to interrupt the music.
"Not tonight," Thor answered, surprising her slightly. She hadn't realised until that moment how little she had been engaging with the people she was seated with, so preoccupied conversing with Loki for so much of the evening. "We don't dance at these types of feasts. That is for the entertainers to do."
As if on cue, roughly fifty people filed into the room, all dressed in identical hooded, white cloaks. They moved gracefully, almost as if they were gliding rather than walking. Each had their head bowed, face mostly concealed as their hood hung low over their features. They fanned out amongst the tables until they were all perfectly spaced throughout the hall. As the music rose and fell all around them, and time ticked by slowly, the cloaked figures stood unwaveringly still, all faced towards the King.
Reagan was about to lean over to Thor to ask what was happening when in perfect unison the dancers raised their heads. The music swelled then and cloaks fell to the ground, revealing that each of the dancers was completely naked and their arms were drenched in a coating of thick, black ink from the elbow down, dripping from their fingertips. The dancers, at last, began to move then with impossible synchronicity. The movements were slow and languid and each movement smeared the ink from their hands over the rest of their bodies. Reagan watched on as they painted themselves with controlled yet haphazard strokes.
Soon, Thor glanced her way and clocked the look of confusion on her features. He leaned in to offer a quiet explanation.
"It is a dance to honour the warriors of Asgard, those who have conquered, those who have fallen," Thor murmured to her. "It is representative of the strength and indomitable spirit of our people."
Reagan nodded in acknowledgement and continued to watch on from her seat in slight disbelief, still nursing a glass in her hand which was all but forgotten in her state of distraction, warming to room temperature. It was certainly not a sight she'd expected to see that evening.
This is so... weird, she commented more to herself than Loki this time as she watched the dancers writhe around her, thoroughly perplexed.
She made her best efforts to keep her features neutral as she reclined back into her seat and watched the strange display before blanching suddenly as a thought occurred to her.
Oh, my God. Loki, I'm not at an orgy, am I? She asked as panic gripped her.
Unexpected laughter burst forth from Loki, it sounded true and genuine. And though it only took him a few moments to compose himself, Reagan waited for his answer with bated breath.
No, you fool, you're not at an orgy.
Reagan breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Okay, good.
For the first time that evening, the pair fell into a comfortable silence. It was strange, having the link open and not feeling like she had a nerve exposed. Perhaps she had the wine to thank for that. Or perhaps Loki was just honouring their truce in a far more acceptable way than Reagan had ever hoped to expect. It was hard to believe that she was actually enjoying the company of the individual who just a little over a month ago had tried to invade her planet.
If you had taken over the Earth would you have forced us to do this kind of thing? She asked him, truly curious about the answer. Naked interpretive dances in your honour? Is this what you would have wanted?
Heavens, no. Loki answered quickly. Adamantly. Though I do have an affinity for theatre, perhaps a play or two about my conquests would have been in order.
Theatre geek, huh? That explains so much. Reagan nodded her head sagely.
And what does that mean exactly?
It means you're a total hypocrite, she teased. You've been giving poor Volstagg a hard time all night for his - admittedly, very long and rehearsed story - but the first thing you would have done as King of Earth is to cast Matt Damon as the lead in your biopic? Give me a break.
You know you make a rather insufferable drunk.
Reagan lifted her glass to her lips as she detected a hint of amusement in Loki's voice.
Thank you.
The moment she woke up Reagan found herself wishing for the sweet and merciful release of death.
Well, that's certainly dramatic.
Reagan let out a wretched groan as her head throbbed horribly and nausea swept through her. Her own mouth tasted stale and tacky and her eyes began to water the moment she attempted to so much as squint at her surroundings. She tried to sink deeper into her blankets to retreat away from the small blade of sunshine which had the audacity to pierce through the darkness of her bedroom.
"I knew it," she grunted as her head gave another horrid throb. "I totally knew it. You were trying to kill me all along."
If you'll remember correctly, I did everything in my power last night to get you drinking water instead of wine.
Reagan scoffed at him. "Whatever, reverse-Jesus. Can you just back off until a more reasonable hour of the morning, please?"
Actually, I did. It's well past noon and you're late for your lesson.
Reagan loosed another dramatic moan.
"No lessons today," she protested weakly. "Thank you for your interest in my continued educational journey but today I will be engaging only in darkness and rehydration and maybe a quick vomit if I can muster up the energy."
Delightful.
"Well, that is my brand."
She could feel Loki's amusement spiralling down the bond, he was all too pleased by her state of distress but she was simply too sick to care.
Come now, up you get. I've been merciful enough to let you rest until now. I've been waiting around all morning with nothing to do, it's time we get to work.
Reagan rolled onto her back and rubbed miserably at her sleep-crusted eyes, picturing the dark Prince alone in his prison cell, pacing impatiently while she slept the morning away. Her brow furrowed at the thought.
"What do you do to pass the time in there? You know, when you're not busy making me want to murder you, of course," Reagan asked. "Do you get yard time?"
What is yard time? Loki asked, his tone of voice telling her that he'd already decided to dislike it no matter the answer.
"Well, on Earth prisoners get time outside," Reagan explained as she yawned and stretched, her whole body crying out in protest. "You know, get some fresh air, some exercise. That sort of thing. I don't know much about it if I'm honest but I think it's like an hour a day or something."
Loki scoffed. Ridiculous. Why would anyone allow prisoners such freedoms?
Reagan didn't even try to refrain from rolling her eyes. It hurt. Loki grinned.
"You're not serious, are you?" She drawled. "Even trapped in a prison cell 24 hours a day, you turn your nose up at an idea that would be an improvement on your current situation just because it's Midgardian?"
Loki just let out a stubborn huff but did not offer a rebuttal.
"What happened to make you hate us so much anyway?" Reagan mumbled into the blankets she was busy pulling up over her head to block out the light.
She felt hesitation from him that she hadn't expected.
It's not about hating you. You are simply subservient beings, made to be ruled by one like me.
A short, sharp laugh burst from her lips.
"Ah, yes, because the one thing I would say about our interactions up to this point is that I have been extremely subservient to you," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Yes, well, I believe you may be an anomaly.
"I'm really not," she corrected him.
You have to be. It's not possible that there is a whole planet full of beings as unbearable as you.
"You know, I really think if you just gave us a chance you might actually - Oh, hey! What if I teach you about some of the best Midgardians? See if I can convince you to like one of us. I bet I could."
Do you have to wake up early in the morning to think of new ways to annoy me?
"Ha! Well, I definitely didn't today so I suppose it's just a natural talent. Come on, it might be fun. We might even manage to grow that Grinch-look-a-like heart of yours by a few sizes."
Are you just trying to distract me from the fact that you are avoiding your lessons?
Reagan shrugged a little.
"Maybe. I feel like it's 12% working. Am I reading that right?"
When have I ever admitted to you being right about anything?
"Okay. So there's this one guy named from either France or Holland. I can't remember right this second. But he was awesome and also completely batshit crazy. His name was Vincent Van Gogh and he painted this-"
Alright fine, Loki conceded, cutting her off. It was evident that he remembered all too well just how capable Reagan was of keeping an insufferable tangent running for hours on end. If it means I don't have to endure you talking about Midgard, you can rest for one day and one day only, but we return to your lessons tomorrow. No excuses.
"Deal," Reagan agreed, triumphantly. As she snuggled deeper into her blankets she put a mental checkmark under her name on her running Reagan vs Loki tally.
Loki rolled his eyes.
I hope you do vomit, he muttered.
Reagan smiled a little despite herself.
"Okay, well now you're just being mean."
It took Reagan a full three days to fully recover from the wine she'd consumed and consequently swore off for all eternity that night. When she, at last, returned to her lessons with Loki, her mind was still slightly fogged by the whole experience and so any progress they'd made in establishing her shields seemed to have taken a good three steps in the wrong direction.
Reagan huffed in frustration and collapsed back onto her bed when for the fourth time in as many minutes, Loki burst through her pathetic excuse for a shield.
"This sucks!" she exclaimed, to no one in particular. "Why can't I get this?"
Perhaps it's because you made it your mission a few nights ago to kill the few brain cells you had that I could actually work with.
Seeing as though she couldn't direct it at Loki himself, Reagan shot her murderous glare up towards the ceiling. It only made him chuckle.
Relax, I'm teasing. Perhaps you just need one more day to fully recover-
"No, I'm fine. Let's try again."
Loki sighed deeply. She could tell he wanted to protest but saw little point in arguing with her. He was rapidly becoming familiar with how stubborn she could be.
Once again Loki broke down her barriers in a matter of seconds.
Reagan groaned and pushed the heels of her palms into her eyes.
"I'm just not getting this today. I'm too much in my own head. Can we maybe work on something else? It might help me reset my brain."
Something else like what? Loki asked, disinterestedly.
She wasn't sure where the thought came from, it wasn't even something she'd been thinking about, but suddenly an image of Frigga bloomed in her mind. The way she'd been seated with her eyes closed, hands folded delicately in her lap, a golden hue dancing around her temples.
"She's projecting herself," Thor's voice echoed in her memory. "She's with him in his cell, at least an illusion of her is. They can see each other. Speak to one another."
"Wow... Is that something I can learn?"
Loki stilled as he inspected the memory, quieting completely, weighing it. Reagan waited, unsure of what his reaction might be.
Try it, he said at last.
Reagan blinked in surprise.
"Oh, I don't know. It seems a little advanced for me," she said gently, feeling suddenly self-conscious. "Besides, your mother said you need to start with someone you have a bond with and I don't-"
Use me.
Reagan hesitated. Of course, she knew she shared a bond with Loki, but the type of connection Frigga had been talking about... she was certain that this wasn't it. It was supposed to be with someone who made you feel safe, someone you trusted. And while they'd made some progress, she wouldn't exactly define him as safe. Reagan winced.
"I don't know if that's a good idea," Reagan said at last, trying her best not to sound unkind.
Loki picked up on her trepidation and instead of sneering as she suspected he would, he seemed to soften a little in response. Reagan was reminded once again of just how patient a teacher he was.
Reagan, I won't let anything happen to you. He told her with uncharacteristic sincerity. I'm in your head, if I feel you doing something wrong I'll stop you. It serves me no purpose if you hurt yourself, it'll only set us back on our progress of finding a way out of this whole predicament.
She nodded in acknowledgement but didn't answer right away, still unsure. She was tempted, curious but... still there was fear. She willed it away but it wouldn't budge, her heart rate quickened a little - regardless of the process they'd made she still hated feeling so vulnerable in front of him. Hated that her emotions were laid out before him like an open book.
When the link is open, Loki said, distracting her from her line of thought. I'm aware of exactly where you are. I can feel which foot you're stepping with, when you inhale, when you smile.
His words caused heat to creep into her face against her will and Reagan sensed a slight smirk tug at the corner of Loki's lips.
When you blush, Loki added.
"Shut up," she muttered.
My point is, you can feel me too, can't you? You can feel exactly where I am right now.
Reagan stilled and allowed herself to focus on him, considering. She closed her eyes as she took in a deep, slow breath then allowed herself to explore the link, flowing through it and allowing it to flow through her all at once. Since the bond had snapped into place she hadn't really permitted herself to explore the workings of it so openly - she hadn't wanted to. But opening herself up to it now, in those few moments of acceptance rather than resistance, it felt easy, natural. And she found that she could feel him. Not just his presence; she could feel the way he leaned casually against the wall of his cell, gazing at nothing in particular as his focus was on her thought process in turn. His chin was slightly tucked, his arms crossed over his chest with his hand tucked into his armpits, his right ankle crossed over his left. His pulse was steady, his breathing deep and even.
Reagan nodded as she opened her eyes again slowly.
"Yes," she murmured at last. "I can always feel exactly where you are."
You couldn't ask for a better anchor.
She nodded, without responding out loud. She didn't have to.
She couldn't quite understand why she felt so raw at that moment - as if she were exposing some new secret part of herself to him. Perhaps it was just that she spent so much time pretending not to be afraid, it was intimidating to not be able to hide her fear from him.
When Loki spoke again his voice was gentle, earnest.
Reagan, I won't let anything happen to you. He seemed to remember himself then and his tone shifted to be something she was far more familiar with. Besides, tell me one time I've given you any reason not to trust me.
Reagan let loose a huff of disbelief, ready to assault him with a very long list of examples before she felt amusement swirl down the link, and she rolled her eyes even as an involuntary smile pulled at her lips.
"Alright, fine." she relented at last.
With newfound determination she stood and moved to the centre of the room, squaring her shoulders.
"Tell me what to do."
She offered up her undivided attention as Loki explained the basics, what to focus on, how to harness the power within herself and redirect it into something new and unfamiliar. She could feel him studying her thought patterns, monitoring the way she turned concepts over in her mind, only moving on when he was certain she understood what he was explaining.
"Okay," Reagan said when the theory was complete. "I'm ready."
Let's see what you're made of, mortal.
Reagan took a deep breath and summoned forth her power. It was such a foreign feeling to bring it forth for something other than setting herself a flame and it took her some time to get it right. But soon enough she felt something click into place, and a strange sensation swept over her akin to falling asleep. She slipped into the sensation and kept waiting to jolt back awake but it never came. She just kept sinking. Sinking into darkness. She tried to pull back a little and found that she couldn't.
Her pulse began to spike as panic set in.
Reagan, it's alright. Loki assured her. Just follow my voice. Find your way back to me.
Reagan shifted her focus toward him, towards his voice. Reaching for him. Anchoring herself to his presence. She honed in on the bond - their tether - and felt how open it was, she allowed her consciousness to flow down its length. Closer to him.
A strange glowing sensation washed through her then, like she was stepping into the sunlight. She furrowed her brow, unsure of what it was.
"Open your eyes," Loki said.
His voice sounded strange and Reagan realised, as she opened her eyes, that it was because, for the first time, it wasn't sounding from within her own head.
She glanced around to find herself inside Loki's starkly white prison cell, the God of Mischief himself, standing just a few inches away gazing down at her with his hands clasped behind his back and a pleased expression on his face. He was taller than she remembered, broader too. Even locked away in a cell he was dressed in fine clothing; rich velvets and soft leathers. His trademark colours, of course; green and black. His hair which had grown just a little since she'd last seen him in person was slightly damp and his face was cleanly shaven. She found herself wondering fleetingly if he smelled of bath oils.
"I'm impressed," he told her, shaking her from her thoughts.
"Holy shit, I did it," she whispered, in disbelief.
Reagan looked up to meet his gaze, unable to keep from smiling at her accomplishment. She realised then that she'd been studying him for quite some time, and that he'd been doing the same in return. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Reagan couldn't bring herself to stop staring at him. It was so strange to be there, face to face with him after him being nothing but a disembodied voice for so long.
"Hi," Reagan grinned, still not quite believing she'd actually managed to project herself.
"Hello there," he replied with a small, gentle smile.
She watched, fascinated, as the expression changed his entire face. It softened him. Made him seem... lighter. At that moment she could barely see the cold, cruel creature she'd come to think of him as in New York. It was hard to even reconcile that it was possible for the man standing before her to actually be the same person. Not when he was looking at her with actual warmth in those green eyes of his.
He's actually quite handsome, she found herself thinking absently.
Reagan was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't see the way his eyebrow quirked and a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth, having heard the stray thought. Loki opened his mouth to comment but paused when he saw the change in her, the way she seemed to grow confused.
"They're green," she murmured softly.
Loki quirked his head a little as he watched her eyebrows draw together slowly in perplexity.
"What?" he asked.
"Your eyes are green," she said, staring at them unblinkingly. "I thought- I thought they were blue."
Loki opened his mouth to speak but then thought better of it. He averted his gaze from her at last and took a few steps back from her. He rolled his shoulders just a little, trying to hide the tension that had snaked its way into his posture.
"I saw them in New York," Reagan pressed on. "They were blue. I know they were blue. Because I remember thinking they were just like..." just like Clint's.
Loki turned away from her completely then, picking up a book on a nearby table and thumbing through it.
"I think that's quite enough for today," he told her, his attention honed solely on the pages of the book.
Reagan wanted desperately to push the matter, but the tone of his voice was enough to tell her that it was a non-issue. She wouldn't be getting any answers out of him. She watched him for just a few more moments before she loosed a gentle sigh, closed her eyes and allowed her powers to extinguish, retreating back into her own body. It was a disorienting feeling, and slightly lonely when coupled with the way she felt Loki retreating from her mind, marking the end of their lesson.
She opened her eyes to take in her surroundings, her bed chambers so vastly different from Loki's current dwellings. She could stil barely believe she'd managed it. Pride swelled in her chest and she realised then that Loki was still observing her from a little more of a distance, his shield not yet fully in place.
Before he disappeared from her mind completely, she heard his voice one last time.
Well done, mortal.
Reagan smiled.
Chapter 9: Chapter 9
Notes:
Thank you so much to everyone who has left kudos and reviews it is so, so appreciated! :)
This chapter got away from me a little and so I had to split it into two. So chap 10 is coming soon.
I hope you enjoy <3
Chapter Text
If Loki was asked to choose the one thing he loathed most about the cell he now spent his every waking moment confined to, it would be the light. The harsh, offensively clean white light he was bathed in for every second of every day since the guards had thrown him in there. There was no reprieve from it. No dim corner to hide away in, nothing to find shelter beneath. Not even when night fell did the lights dull, not even a little. It was just endlessly, relentlessly, white.
Loki had begun to wonder if perhaps it was a torture tactic - Odin's indirect way of trying to break him - something that Loki might eventually beg for reprieve from. No physical torment, just subtle, psychological anguish designed to slowly drive him insane.
Well, more insane.
If that were the plan, Odin would find himself sorely disappointed. Loki, after all, had endured far worse. He would give the Allfather no such satisfaction. He was resolute on staying silent - not so much as hinting about his discomfort. Not to the guards, certainly not to the Allfather, not even to his mother - his sole visitor.
"I have done everything in my power to make you comfortable, Loki," she had told him calmly.
Loki scowled beneath the glaring lights, pretending he could ignore them.
Comfortable.
How could anyone possibly look at that stark environment and deem it comfortable?
Perhaps, Loki considered, it was all just imagined and Odin had no idea what torment the relentless light inflicted upon his prisoners. Perhaps it was all just ignorance of a so-called all-knowing king. After all, ignorance is what Odin seemed to do best when it came to his adopted son.
No. He corrected himself.
He was not even that anymore, was he?
He'd heard the words spoken at the feast.
My son and heir, the mighty Thor and the traitor, Loki.
The traitor. Nothing more, nothing less. Not a son. Not even Odin's great failure.
He was nothing to him now, not when Odin no longer had use of him.
Raised under the guise that he may one day rule a kingdom when all along he had merely been the puppet the Allfather had made dance so that Thor might have the illusion of competition during his formative years.
And now he was not even that. So here he would remain for the rest of his days. Hidden away, somewhat ironically, in maddeningly bright light.
A side effect of the light that he had not anticipated was a strange distortion of time. Loki had swiftly lost any perception of what time of day it was or how long an hour stretched on. The only clues were his meal times and the changing of the guards and still, he could not be certain if it were day or night.
And so he found himself relying on her to keep track of the nights that passed. Her mortal form meant she required frequent rest. It was probably a mercy to her that Asgardian days were roughly the same length as those on Midgard. And so when he sensed the edges of her consciousness fade, and sleep overcome her, mind becoming slightly more peaceful and a lot less malicious towards him, he was able to mark the passing moons.
Not that he depended on her.
Without the bond, he'd have found another way. This was, for him, merely convenience.
The mortal.
He told himself that his mind only wandered to her so often because he had so precious little else to occupy his time.
He most certainly didn't enjoy his interactions with her.
He didn't enjoy her dry wit and sarcasm, nor the way that she now often played along with his antics.
He did not admire the way she fought back against his torment with such stubborn determination.
He hadn't liked the way that she had boldly held Halvor's gaze on the night of the feast and assured Loki that she was unafraid, ready to set the man aflame in front of everyone.
A smirk threatened to grace his features for just a moment at the memory when another replaced it.
"I am NOT yours."
He'd clenched his jaw, and closed his eyes. Willed himself to remain calm. It wasn't as if he even cared, but who was she to think she could correct him?
She'd snarled the words. So full of loathing, even moments after he'd saved her. She resented him - hated him.
He knew all too well that she blamed him for the marks. As if he'd chosen any of this. Chosen her. Staked his claim over her soul. He'd done no such thing. He was just as unwillingly chosen by the marks as she was. He wanted no part of it.
And yet... there was some small secret ache, deep down inside himself. One that he refused to acknowledge. One he tried to smother - to kill - with anger and resentment and every other ugly emotion that endlessly coursed through his entire being ever since he'd first touched the Jotun casket and watched his skin shift to a brilliant shade of azure.
Hope, he'd learned, could be such an ugly thing.
And so he wouldn't allow himself to indulge in it. The hope that maybe, just maybe, he did belong somewhere.
Belonged to someone.
No, not him. Never him.
And of course, she'd loathed him. It was justified, after everything he did on Midgard. Perhaps if his match had been someone of Asgard - someone who understood just how sacred a gift the marks could be - then maybe they'd be willing to try and see him but no, it was almost poetic. Loki, the traitor - the monster - abandoned even by his own people. Of course, his own soulmate would be repulsed by the very idea of him.
"So, I guess we're just stuck like this for the rest of our lives then," she'd said with tears brimming in her eyes. "This is so fucked up."
Loki squeezed his eyes shut, willing the image away.
You are stuck like this, he'd hissed at her, cruelly. I have to endure you for a few short, mortal years. Wait you out. Then I'll be free.
It was an ugly truth. She'd exist for just a fraction of his lifetime. Even if she could ever find a way to look at him and see-
Loki didn't allow himself to finish that thought.
To know her just long enough to know that she too loathed him - perhaps more so than anyone else he'd ever encountered. To have felt the pure unadulterated loathing that seeped down the bond any time they'd interacted.
And then to have to watch her wither over a few fleetingly short mortal years before she'd be gone, forever.
Poetic.
Loki had made peace with this being his fate. He'd long since given up on the hope that the universe might offer him something good. Some small form of happiness. He'd resigned himself to the fact that he'd never attain any such thing.
Until he'd made her laugh.
She'd laughed, genuinely. And they'd joked and teased each other playfully and even when Thor had joined her at the feast she'd asked him to stay. And most surprisingly, Loki had begun to feel a reluctant warmth from her. Her shields were still far too weak to have held it back, and Loki was sure she'd never intentionally allow him to have felt it. But still, it was there - it was real - and against his better judgement, he'd allowed himself to bathe in it.
And as much as he resented it, as much as he fought to extinguish it, he couldn't stop a small ray of hope that had bloomed in his chest at that moment.
If fate had chosen him then why shouldn't he find some way to redeem himself to the soul that best matched his?
And so for a few days, he'd wondered if maybe, just maybe...
But then she'd projected herself into his starkly white cell.
And she'd stared up at him with a smile. She'd looked him in the eye.
And thought of New York.
And Loki had snapped right back into the reality of his situation.
It's all she'd ever see.
It mattered not, he told himself adamantly. After all, he was better alone. He was forged for it.
If anything the mark was proof of it.
His soulmate dangled before him, reviled him, kept separate from him, and all the while working towards ridding herself of him entirely-
"Stop it."
Loki opened his eyes at the sound of her voice.
To say that he was mildly surprised to find Reagan sitting casually in a chair in his prison cell, stirring him out of his brooding thoughts, would be putting it lightly.
He blinked at her, careful to keep his face clear of any emotion even as his pulse quickened ever so slightly. She couldn't have heard any of that. She couldn't have. He was positive he'd had his shields in place.
"Stop what?" he asked, evenly.
"Stop ignoring me."
Loki raised an eyebrow, feigning perturbation.
Reagan leaned back in her seat, arms folded over her chest, eyeing him playfully. Calling his bluff.
"You've had your shields up for almost a whole week now," she said simply. "How are you supposed to get rid of me if you refuse to pay any attention to me?"
She smirked at him just a little with that, but it was a bemusement he couldn't return.
"Am I no longer entitled to my privacy now that you've gone and learned an exciting new trick?" He gestured to her projection, seated opposite him.
He felt a small swell of pride from her end of the bond as she looked down at her arms, turning her hands over this way and that.
"It's pretty good, right?" She said excitedly, ignoring his question. "I wasn't sure I'd be able to pull it off again on my own but boom."
"Well, it does help to have been taught by such a skilled teacher."
She tilted her head towards him in acknowledgement.
"You know what? Credit where credit is due, you are surprisingly a pretty good teacher."
Loki threw her an incredulous look.
"Did you just pay me a compliment?"
"I suppose so, yeah."
"Barging in here unannounced and freely offering up niceties," Loki mused. "I'm beginning to suspect you've missed me."
Laughter burst from her. "Ha! One compliment and suddenly your head is so big it has its own gravitational pull. I'll have to remember that."
"Idiot."
"Asshat."
Loki glanced at her again to find her smiling softly, he cast his gaze away.
The pair fell silent for a moment before Reagan tilted her head a little, studying him.
"Loki, are you alright?" she asked finally. "You don't seem like your normal, antagonistic self today."
"Yes, well, it can be difficult to remain in high spirits when you're to spend all of eternity confined to a cage."
Loki had intended for the words to sound light, perhaps a little sarcastic. But they tasted bitter, and he knew they'd rung with an air of truth to them. Reagan hadn't missed it either, he knew it as well as she did.
She watched him silently for a few moments before she sighed and leaned forward in her chair a little.
"Can I tell you a little story that I think might help?" she asked, her voice gentle.
Loki's brow furrowed ever so slightly, unsure of why she'd ever offer him words of comfort instead of the scathing jab he'd been anticipating.
"Go on," he said.
"Okay, so about four hundred years ago there was a French woman named Julie d'Aubigny and she didn't exactly fit the mould of how people expected women to behave in her time. She was a real wild child. She took more lovers than goddamn Casanova - men and women. She was a really gifted opera singer but also an incredible swordfighter. And because she was so skilled with a sword, she spent a lot of her time in men's attire. She believed it was more flattering on her figure - apparently, she was an absolute knockout, by the way - and you know, it's probably a fair bit easier to sword fight in pants than in hooped skirts."
"Yes, I'd assume so," Loki interjected with an amused grin.
"Right! So anyway, Julie often got accused of being a man with a soft voice, because there was no way a woman could ever be such a talented fighter. Julie was by no means a shy gal so what she used to do was beat these men in their duels and then whip out her breasts to prove that she was, in fact, a woman."
Surprised laughter burst forth from Loki.
"Perhaps you should tell Lady Sif this story," he suggested.
"No way, I don't want to get decked!" Reagan laughed, remembering the untold tale he'd made her privy to on the evening of the feast. "Anyway, eventually she met this young woman who she fell madly in love with. She left her long-time partner to have a lesbian love affair with her, which absolutely horrified this girl's parents who as a result shipped her off to a convent to become a nun and devote her life to God. Basically, pray the gay away, you know? So Julie just followed her there and became a nun as well so that they could continue their steamy little love affair."
"Uh huh," Loki mused, still utterly at a loss as to where this tale might be going.
"The problem was, though, it turned out Julie absolutely hated the constant praying and cleaning so she decided to plan a daring escape for her and her lover. And here's what she did. She waited until one of the older nuns died, stole the body, carried it up to her girlfriend's room, tucked the body into the bed and set the convent on fire while they made their escape. The relationship lasted about 3 months after that before the girl decided to return home to her family. But thankfully Julie eventually found love again with a Duke who became obsessed with her after she stabbed him through the shoulder during a duel. She lived a full life until one day she decided she'd done all she could do with her time and she joined a convent again to live peacefully where she eventually died at the ripe old age of 33."
Reagan fell silent then and smiled at him expectantly.
Loki, who had been expecting slightly more to the story just studied her for a few moments, entirely perplexed.
"I'm sorry, I'm failing to see what moral I'm supposed to have gleaned from any of that."
"Oh, there's no moral," Reagan replied. "I just remembered I promised to think of a Midgardian you'd like and I thought it might make you feel better."
There was a beat of silence.
"You're an absolute fool."
"You don't like her?" She sounded genuinely surprised.
"No. She sounds insufferable. Why would I like her?"
"I thought you'd appreciate the drama."
Reagan huffed, falling back in her chair.
"Fine. I guess I'll just try again then."
Reagan suddenly stilled before scanning her surroundings suspiciously, as if noticing them for the first time.
"Hey... Where's your bathroom?"
"You're sitting on it."
Reagan's eyes instantly grew wide with panic and she leapt out of her chair as if it had burned her.
"Oh my god," she looked back at the chair, horrified.
Loki fought to keep his features neutral at her reaction.
There'd be no living with her if she suspected that he was in any way fond of her.
"I'm teasing," he said, still doing his best to suppress a smile.
Reagan turned to look at him and he nodded his head towards the only cell wall that wasn't windowed.
"There's a door there to the washroom, it's just concealed."
Reagan shook her head.
"You dick," she grumbled, though Loki was almost positive there was something affectionate in her tone.
"Why didn't anyone tell me there was a giant library that I could use?"
They probably just assumed you couldn't read.
"Ha, ha, you're hilarious," Reagan drawled, as she made her way down the palace hallways, following Loki's directions.
They'd been working on her shields again when, in what was becoming somewhat of a routine, they became sidetracked. Sometimes it was getting carried away in playful teasing or conversation - often it was squabbling - but today it had been the stack of leatherbound books in the corner of Loki's cell. Reagan had moved to inspect them.
"Ah, I see you've found a few books that didn't fall victim to me that time I visited your room," she smirked.
Loki had rolled his eyes.
"My mother has her maids deliver fresh reading material each week," he told her. "I fear what she'll do once I've made my way through every volume in the Great Library. Perhaps then she will get desperate and make a request for this 'yard time' you so desperately think I need."
Reagan had spun to face him.
"Great Library?" she'd repeated.
And so that's how Reagan had found herself standing before a set of golden doors, forty feet tall, decorated in intricate pictures of Gods who had long since passed.
"Whoa," she breathed, running her fingers along the fine carvings.
You're not even inside yet.
"Are you sure I'm allowed in here?"
Go on, mortal. Open the doors.
Reagan pushed open the door which surprisingly gave way to her with very little pressure. It swung open, slowly, smoothly, with a soft, yet echoing grinding. As the doors parted, the air was swept from her lungs as she stepped into the largest room she'd ever seen. Far above her, a glass ceiling opened up to reveal the stars in the heavens above.
Endless rows of towering shelves stretched out further than Reagan could see. Each shelf, towering at least fifty feet tall, was stacked full of leatherbound books, golden sliding ladders running along each and every one of them, all the way to the very top.
Glass cases all around the Library displayed books and maps and scrolls, seemingly suspended in mid-air, each aged and faded and beautiful, each more intricately decorated than the last. Massive chandeliers hung in mid-air, each adorned with countless candles. Fine armchairs of rich mulberry-coloured velvet were placed amongst the shelves, and beyond them, Reagan could see rows and rows of scholarly desks. The walls were embellished with vibrant paintings of ancient Asgardians so large that Reagan felt as if she might disappear into them forever. It was beautiful.
"This is insane..."
I believe we even keep a selection of Midgardian works.
Reagan gasped. "Really?"
She felt a trickle of amusement through the bond and followed Loki's lead down one of the countless aisles to find herself in front of a section of paperback, so much less impressive than the beautiful leatherbound volumes surrounding them. But still, an ache of familiarity swept through her.
Don't get too excited. I seriously doubt you'll find your beloved Henry Potter books among them.
"I talked to you about those books for a solid hour. I know you know it's Harry."
Yes, well, perhaps some of the details are becoming slightly distorted as I've been actively trying to repress the memory.
Reagan smiled a little.
"You know what? I think some small, crazy part of me is actually going to miss you when this is all over."
It was meant as a joke but a longing throbbed in her chest at the thought. If it could be over, undone, she could at last return to Earth. Her tiny little apartment and shitty furniture. Her worn-out jeans that were torn at the knees. Her trashy books with dog-eared pages. She tried to swallow down the want.
Evidently, Loki felt it.
You truly just wish to go home, don't you?
She ran feather-light fingertips over the spines of the books as she let out a small sigh.
"It is amazing here, don't get me wrong, but... Yeah, I miss home," she admitted to him in little more than a whisper as she plucked a book from the shelf and began to thumb through the pages of the book. "I miss cheeseburgers and TV and wearing hoodies. I even miss country music. And I hate country music... Oh, manicures. I miss those. Do Asgardians do manicures?"
Not in the awful fashion I've seen in your memories.
"Okay, well, that's a little dramatic. It's just a bit of nail polish," she smiled. "I miss my own bed."
I miss mine, Loki admitted after a few beats of silence.
Reagan stilled, wondering if he'd go on.
"What else do you miss?" she asked softly, as she took another book from the shelf and slowly turned the pages.
I miss feasts. I miss being outside. I miss playing tricks on my half-wit brother. I even miss frivolous things like watching leaves rustle on windy days.
Reagan made a small sound of agreement.
"I miss the sound that soda bottles make when you twist them open."
I miss the smell of log fires.
"I miss driving."
I miss my daggers.
"Do you miss your sceptre?" she asked, curiously.
Reagan was jarred by a sudden and unexpected tension snapping down the link. It was hostile. Almost vicious. She hadn't felt any like that from him in a long time. It sent a shiver down her spine. She felt so suddenly small.
She stilled, confused.
What business is it of yours? Loki hissed at her.
"What?" Reagan murmured back, utterly lost.
Her brow furrowed almost involuntarily in confusion at the sudden change in him. Her heart rate quickened, and she found herself wishing that she could undo it - step back into the past by just a few seconds.
Is it not enough that I'm forced to suffer your endless presence? Must you also provoke me every step of the way?
"I didn't mean to-"
Why is it that you insist on being so endlessly insufferable?
"Wait- are you seriously mad at me right now?"
You beg for my help and after I endure hours of you blundering along through child's spell work, and yet you have the nerve to speak-
Reagan's eyes grew wide as features contorted with outrage.
"Oh, you mean the nerve to remind you that you tried to take over my entire planet and would have killed me and anyone else who tried to stop you if you'd actually succeeded? You think I should just let that go? Pretend it never happened just because you've made the effort not to treat me like absolute shit for five minutes? Go fuck yourself, Loki."
You forget that you're the one who needed me. You begged for my help. Not the other way around. If you insist on being nothing more than a thorn in my side then have it your way. Go back to navigating this mess alone. See if I care. I'm done with you.
"Fine."
Fine.
Reagan slammed shut the book she was holding and stuffed it back onto the shelf before storming away up the seemingly never-ending aisle. She knew storming away achieved nothing - he was in her head - but still, it felt good to do something with this sudden spike of angry adrenaline. And she weaved her way out of the shelves she did her best to pull her shields up, and shame tinged her face, knowing just how inadequate they were. Thankfully, Loki seemed to have the same idea and she watched, somewhat enviously, as his icy barrier slammed into place. Unyielding. Resolute.
And just like that, any progress she felt had been made unravelled entirely, and Reagan was left with an ugly, empty pit deep in her stomach that she feared she wouldn't be rid of any time soon.
Chapter Text
In the full fortnight that had followed their argument, Loki didn't lower his shields for even a second and Reagan had absolutely no problem with that.
It took her days to stop feeling pure fury every time she thought about the interaction. She hadn't done anything wrong. She was certain she hadn't done anything wrong. It wasn't even as though he'd gotten angry at her about some jab she'd made at his expense. They'd been getting along.
That was the worst part of it, they'd actually been getting along. Reagan had just found herself beginning to think that maybe - just maybe - this link that had been forced upon them wouldn't be so impossible to endure after all when suddenly Loki had blown up at her for no reason and ruined everything. Any progress they'd made - any peace between the two of them - gone. Ripped to shreds.
And now that infernal icy barrier was back, ever present in the corner of her mind's eye.
And worse still, she had no idea why.
Part of Reagan wanted to speak to Frigga about him. To ask her for advice. To ask her exactly what the hell was the matter with him. But she ultimately decided against it because there was just something in her that couldn't bear to tell the woman that she and her son were once again at each other's throats. Or rather, completely ignoring one another's existence.
To distract herself from her unending frustration, Reagan had returned to the library. But she had not returned for the Midgardian books, they'd ended up being of little interest to her - mostly atlases and encyclopedias, works than indicated where Earth was up to in terms of its evolution as a society. Instead, she had borrowed as many books as she could carry about Asgard. She started with brief histories - stories about the Kings who had come before Odin, and she found herself rapidly becoming addicted to it. The more she learned, the more she wanted to learn. About their customs and beliefs, their treaties and the realms Asgard oversaw, their political systems, celebrations, the geography. Everything. She read about Mimisbrunnen, the well of knowledge where Odin had sacrificed one of his eyes in order to drink from the waters and receive wisdom. She learned of Medina, the lower city of Asgard full of bars and taverns where warriors often went to celebrate their victories for far longer than was ever sensible. And the Halls of Fear, a mystic realm where The Great Fear himself is said to lay in ancient slumber.
That's how Reagan found herself sitting cross-legged on a ledge in a quiet courtyard, bathed in afternoon light with an extremely heavy volume about Valhalla and the afterlife of the Gods perched in her lap. She'd found the spot a few days earlier and liked it because it was filled with Wisteria trees, dozens of tiny blue songbirds hidden within their branches. But best of all, and the reason Reagan had claimed it as her new reading place, was that it was peaceful, empty, hardly a soul passing through it in the days she'd occupied it.
Which is why she was so surprised when someone called her name.
"Hello, Reagan."
She looked up to see a familiar, smiling face.
"Fandral," she smiled. "How are you?"
She'd gotten on well with Fandral at the feast. He'd made a great deal of effort to make her feel included in their conversations, explaining any concepts for her that might be unfamiliar to a Midgardian. Which Loki had then thoroughly enjoyed correcting him on inside of her head. She'd often struggled to maintain her conversation with him, becoming distracted by squabbling with the trickster. But he was kind to her, and she found that she quite liked him. Which, admittedly, had come as a bit of surprise to her after she’d learned he called himself Fandral the Dashing - something Loki was rather merciless about.
She pushed the thought away.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"This is a nice little shortcut to the sparring grounds. Few people know about it. I suspect you've come to realise that."
She closed the book she was reading gently.
"The city is just so busy," she said. "It's nice to have found somewhere..."
"Peaceful?"
"Exactly."
Fandral leaned a little closer to read the title of the book balanced in her lap.
"The Halls of Valhalla."
He looked up at her and quirked an eyebrow questioningly and Reagan found herself mildly embarrassed.
"I just figured if I'm going to be stuck here, I should really start learning more about Asgard and its people."
Fandral smiled kindly.
"Well, I can think of no better way to learn the ways of our people than to visit the sparring grounds to see where our warriors are forged. Care to join me?"
"Yeah," Reagan said. "Yeah okay, that sounds kind of fun, actually."
She stood from her place perched on the stone ledge, hauling the enormous book with her.
"Please, allow me," Fandral insisted, taking the book from her in one hand as if it weighed nothing at all and Reagan found herself slightly envious.
"Thanks," she said appreciatively as she fell into step beside him, allowing him to lead the way.
"So," Fandral said. "Thor informed us that you've managed to come to some sort of peace agreement with Loki. Rumour had it things weren't going so well up unto recently."
Reagan tried her best not to scowl but she was fairly certain she failed. The last thing she wanted was to discuss Loki, but Fandral had been kind to her. All of Thor's friends had been. And they'd been merciful enough not to bring him up at all in conversation until now. It was only a matter of time before one of them felt the need to address the evil green-clad elephant in the room.
Reagan loosed a weary sigh.
"We had come to a kind of cease-fire for a while," Reagan replied. "But evidently it was to be short-lived."
"Ah, I see."
"He's just such an unbelievable pain in the ass!" Reagan exclaimed, suddenly grateful to have someone to vent to about him as a now very familiar frustration bubbled up to the surface once again. "The second I think I have him figured out, that I think I can see something human about him, he flips everything on its head and I feel like I'm about a thousand paces back from the starting line, let alone... He's just so frustrating. You know what he's like, he's your friend."
"Well, I'd hardly call him a friend," Fandral replied, sounding slightly scathed by the idea of it.
"Yeah sure, not now," Reagan corrected herself. "But he was, wasn't he? Before everything, I mean. Thor told me about the adventures you all used to go on."
Fandral hesitated, weighing his words.
"Yes, Loki certainly tagged along. Thor insisted they fight their battles side by side growing up. Thor loved him dearly. And you know we all hold Thor so dearly in our hearts, but Prince Loki on the other hand... let's just say it was no great loss to any of us when he disappeared off the edge of the Bifrost."
Reagan fell silent, a strange discomfort she couldn't quite place coiling in her stomach. She'd known that Loki held no great love for Thor's circle of friends, that much was evident on the night of the feast. But from the way Thor spoke about Loki - the way he was still so hurt by their recent falling out, Reagan had just figured it was a newfound disdain. But was it possible instead that Loki didn't really have any friends of his own? The texts Reagan had spent her days pouring over in the past few weeks all suggested that Loki was over a thousand years old. If that were true, it was an awfully long time to be lonely. But then, she considered, perhaps Loki just preferred it that way.
"Ah, here we are," Fandral said happily, stirring Reagan from her thoughts.
The stone corridors they'd been walking through opened out into a large sand-covered courtyard with various-sized pits all lined with shields and weapons. Fire pits were lit all around them and all the Asgardians there were clad in brilliant, shining armour. The sparring fields were surrounded by a backdrop of massive waterfalls in the distance - the sound of the crashing water adding to the air of battle alongside the clash of metal on metal. Reagan and Fandral stood together on a viewing balcony and the blonde offered Thor a wave when he spotted him. The God of Thunder's face lit up the moment he saw them.
"Reagan!" Thor exclaimed happily. It sent a wave of warmth through her, he was forever welcoming of her presence. "I was wondering if we might be graced here by your visit someday. Have you come to give our warriors a run for their money?"
Reagan laughed a little.
"Can't the average Asgardian lift something like 10 tonnes? Hardly sounds like a fair fight."
"Perhaps not for the average mortal, but one that wields fire…" Thor wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as if the idea of watching her set his soldiers aflame actually excited him.
Reagan couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm even as she gestured to a nearby bench. "Maybe so, but I still think I'll sit this one out. I'd hate for this dress to go up in flames."
Thor stilled, considering her.
"I remember the garments you wore in New York; they didn't quite withstand your powers either did they?"
"They held up okay considering, but no. It was a long fight and I burn hotter than any of the fabrics SHIELD had managed to synthesise yet."
Thor nodded pensively.
"We have some leathers that might do the job," he told her. "I'll have something arranged for you."
Reagan blinked in surprise. "That would be amazing, thank you."
Thor bowed his head to her in acknowledgement before returning to oversee the training warriors.
Reagan allowed her gaze to wander, surveying the sparring matches waging on all around her. From the smallest to the largest. They all moved with such grace, such power. It was no wonder that the army of Asgard was so formidable to its enemies. And she saw the way that each of them looked to Thor - with respect and admiration. There was no denying the people loved him.
It wasn't long before she noticed Fandral approach Thor and murmur something to him, causing both of them to glance her way. Reagan let out a low sigh as Thor approached her, his light, playful manner having shifted into something far sterner.
"So, I'm told things have taken yet another unpleasant turn between you and Loki," he said as he sat down beside her.
"I guess I should have pegged Fandral for a gossip," she replied with a small attempt at a smile.
"I'm to blame for that. I had asked him and the others to keep me informed if they heard you were facing any challenges. And Loki himself can be quite the challenge."
She scoffed. "Yeah, that's an understatement."
"I hope you know, in doing so, I had your best interests at heart," Thor told her gently, before gesturing to her covered forearm. "That mark, however unwanted it may be, it bonds us too. It makes us family."
His words elicited a deep pull of affection in her chest, and she nudged him affectionately with her shoulder. She believed him, about having her best interests in mind. And while part of her thought perhaps she should be angry that he was keeping tabs on her, it was actually nice to know that someone was looking out for her. It made her think of Natasha. It made her think of Clint. The way they'd always, unwaveringly, had her back.
"Would you like to discuss it?" Thor prompted softly.
And once again, Reagan had to sigh.
"I just don't understand him, Thor," she admitted at last. "Why is he so... hateful?"
Thor shifted his weight to rest his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together in front of him.
"He wasn't always that way. In fact, I hardly recognised him on Midgard. He's always had a penchant for chaos but never that rage."
Reagan studied his profile as he spoke, Thor's anguish at losing his brother painted on every line of his face. They were so different, right down to this. The way Thor wore his emotions so freely when Loki smothered them away at all costs. It seemed so impossible to her that they'd grown up together. How could one of them turn out like Thor only for the other to be... Loki.
"I was so sure I'd be able to reach him," Thor went on. "To bring him back from the darkness which has consumed his soul. I spend a great deal of time wondering if it would have been different - if my actions hadn't led to my banishment - if I could have been there with him when he discovered his true parentage-"
"His true parentage?" Reagan repeated, surprised. "Loki's adopted?"
Thor glanced over at her, uncertainly.
"You weren't aware?"
"No," she said softly.
Something strange stirred in the pit of her stomach, she wasn't quite sure what it was.
"But the briefing back on Midgard, with SHIELD we went over his history-"
"I wasn't given the initial briefing. I wasn't field tested, so I was never supposed to be involved. SHIELD didn't choose to put me on the board until the Chitauri started pouring out of that portal and they had to hit them with everything they had. Loki was your mission, mine was to help contain the aliens."
"I see."
"Wow... so, Odin isn't his real father?"
"Odin found him when he was just a baby, abandoned by his family, after a battle. My father brought him back to Asgard and my parents raised him as their own. He didn't discover the truth until just a few years ago when I was banished to Midgard."
Reagan got the distinct sense that Thor was omitting something, but she pressed on, wanting to know more.
"And you never knew?"
Thor shook his head. "Not until after I returned from my banishment. After Loki had tried to kill me. After he fell. And then it was too late, he was lost to us."
A memory flashed through Reagan's mind suddenly, of something she heard. One of her first moments in Asgard, in experiencing the bond, hearing what Loki could hear.
Frigga is the only reason you're still alive and you will never see her again.
A chill swept down the length of Reagan's spine.
"Even after what he tried to do to me, and learning the truth, I still believed him to be my brother. Even in New York, I was certain I'd be able to get through to him. We grew up together. Played together. Fought together. Odin had raised us both as equals - to be rulers-"
"Both of you..."
Reagan paused, thinking back to the way Odin spoke about Loki at the feast with a pang of guilt - she'd laughed about it, but so had he. And it was all too clear that Thor couldn't see it.
She looked over at him to find him watching her.
She offered him a small, sad smile and reached out to squeeze his hand comfortingly.
"I'm sorry for what you've had to go through," she told him sincerely. "Both of you."
And she was surprised to find that she truly meant it.
When Reagan found herself back amongst the towering shelves of countless books once again, she found herself thirsty for knowledge about something else. Something she'd been trying not to give in to since she'd discovered the Great Library.
For a long while she wandered amongst the shelves, idly, hoping she might come across something else that might pique her interest - distract her.
It appeared, as was now often the case with her, that fate had other plans.
"Would you like some help there, my dear?"
Reagan turned to find a woman watching her. She was dressed in the red garments of the library keepers, though she was far older than the other Asgardians who Reagan had seen working amongst the shelves. Despite her greyed hair and wrinkled skin, she had a powerful frame, and she towered much taller than Reagan. Her features were hard, and set, though there was a kindness to her eyes.
"Hi," Reagan said softly, glancing around to ensure no one was listening. "I was wondering if you had any books I could borrow about... about the Mark of Sjelevii?"
The woman watched her for a few moments before her features took the form of a knowing smile.
"I was wondering when you might pay us a visit for such a purpose," the woman told her. "Follow me."
Reagan fell into step behind the woman who moved with surprising swiftness. They walked for a while, the woman silently plucking books from the shelf. She did so with such expertise in their locations that it almost seemed like she was picking them at random. It gave Reagan the impression that this woman had in fact, very much been waiting for her visit. She watched her curiously.
Soon the woman led her to a table where she set down the stack of books and began sorting through them. Reagan approached, a little hesitantly, watching as she worked. She thumbed through the pages of the first book until she found what she was looking for and she placed it on the table, turning it towards Reagan.
"Here we have the story of Kaha and Liiva, the first bearers," she told her.
"The creators," Reagan added.
"Correct," the woman glanced up at her, watching as Reagan came closer again, gazing down at the page, looking at the image of the two.
"The Queen told me their story when she explained to me what the marks meant."
"Alright, well then of course we have many others. Their stories are all well documented. How they found each other, their lives together, the children they bore."
Reagan wrapped her arms around herself uncomfortably.
"Do you- do you know of any books where the Mark was wrong?" She glanced cautiously at the woman.
"Ah," the woman smiled kindly before closing the book and taking a seat at the table she'd set the stack upon. "I take it the young Prince has not put his best foot forward since the bond came to be. I'd expect nothing less from the sweet fool."
There was a warmth to her words - a familiarity.
"You know him?"
"I do indeed," she smiled. "I've known him for a very long time."
"And... And you like him?"
Reagan grew hesitant and the woman seemed to sense it. She pulled out the chair beside her and gestured for Reagan to sit, once again wearing a kind smile.
"My name is Sygran, dear. And I met Prince Loki when he was just a boy back when I worked in the palace kitchens. He'd been tasked by the other children to steal the head of the boar being prepared for the King's name day. The boy, forever outdone by his brother was so determined to succeed, so focused on his task that he didn't even notice me standing on the opposite side of the bench preparing the carrots. He snuck up on the boar as if he might spook it away. Just as I saw him reaching out to take it, unaware of who he was, I took up a nearby loaf of bread and clobbered him over the head with it. I'm sure you can imagine my horror when I looked down at him to find I had just assaulted the crown Prince, but Loki thought it was marvellously funny. He was so much happier back then."
Reagan watched as the woman smiled fondly at the memory.
"I insisted he take the boar, I would say I ruined the meal and face the consequences, but Loki insisted instead that I give him some treats he might take back to his friends instead. I gave him every sweet and treacle tart and cookie he could carry and then some. I never expected to see him again, but a week later he came back and gifted me a songbird by way of thanks - and to con me into giving him a few more cookies, of course."
Reagan couldn't help but return the smile that wouldn’t leave the older woman’s face.
"He visited me often after that, coming for sweets but also, I suspect, wanting the company. He never did fit in with the other children. He has such a sharp mind, he’s always seen things differently to the rest them. I think he liked sitting, and speaking with me as I baked because he didn't have anyone to compete with there, he didn't have anyone to prove himself to. Though he does credit me for developing such skilful stealth. He assured me he was determined to ensure no one ever snuck up on him with a bread loaf again."
The two women laughed. Reagan was rapidly deciding she was quite fond of the woman.
"He had me reassigned here when my hands became too stiff to keep kneading all that dough anymore," Sygran went on. "The sweet thing insisted I retire instead but I like to keep busy, and he knew I dearly love to read."
"That was kind of him," Reagan admitted.
"I think his penchant for kindness would surprise a great many people, especially now. He was always so good to me, but I saw him grow colder as he grew older all thanks to that idiot King of ours."
Reagan felt her eyebrows shooting towards her hairline before she even realised it was happening.
Sygran shot her a knowing smirk.
"Have I offended you?"
"Not at all," Reagan assured her quickly, a matching smile slowly blooming on her features. "I just haven't heard anyone else talk about him like that. The people seem to love him."
"Don't be fooled, I once did too," Sygran assured her. "But the more I got to know the Prince, the more my disdain grew for that wretched man."
"What do you mean?" Reagan asked.
"It took only a pair of working eyes to see the way Odin always favoured Prince Thor," Sygran explained. "He was more like him in every way and Odin adored him for it, doted on him, celebrated him. Loki was always second to him and I fear that he never understood why. That is until..."
"Until he found out that Odin wasn't his real father," Reagan concluded for her.
"The poor dear. I sorely wish I could have spoken to him when he learned the truth. I wish he had come to seek me out."
Sygran fell quiet, allowing Reagan to gather her thoughts.
"Loki expects people to see the worst in him," Sygran told her gently. "I'm no fool, girl. I've heard the things he did on Midgard. And they were terrible, terrible things. But you must understand that a great pain must have driven him to act so."
Reagan had to bite her tongue. Plenty of people were in pain, and they didn't do the things he did.
"I was hopeful when I heard that he bore the mark, that he'd found you. And I'm hopeful still. I think if he gave himself the chance to let you in, and you did the same in kind, you each might find something there you were sorely missing until now."
Reagan hesitated, unsure of how to respond to that.
Sygran watched her for a few moments before she slid the books she'd collected towards her.
"Take these," she insisted gently. "Read the tales. The mark is never wrong, dear. Trust it."
Reagan reached slowly for the books, running her fingers along the spines as she contemplated all she'd learned about Loki in his absence.
"Promise me one thing?" Sygran asked, placing a motherly hand on Reagan's knee to capture her attention.
"What's that?"
"Any hell he gives you, give it back to him tenfold."
Reagan laughed at that, surprised.
"Oh, believe me, that's all I've been trying to do.
Sygran winked at her, satisfied.
"Yes," she said. "I'd expect nothing less."
Reagan shot bolt upright in her bed, gasping for breath at the horrifying images that crashed over her.
Pain.
Torment.
Overwhelming fear.
And that cruel, cruel laugh that turned her very bones to ice.
They kept coming, the images just keep coming. Relentless, overwhelming.
It wasn't like the first time, this time she knew the images weren't her own. The fear wasn't her own.
Loki, she called gently, reaching down the bond as she inhaled shaking breaths.
Another flash of pain, of darkness, of desperation.
Loki, it's okay. You need to wake up. It's not real.
She reached further down the bond, searching for him, for his consciousness.
Let me help you.
She had to force herself not to shrink away from the terror, the flashes of despair.
Loki, it's me. It’s Reagan. Please, wake up.
It was like the snap of an elastic band. So suddenly he was awake, and his attention was zeroed in on her. The fear she felt from him then, the anger, it was like watching a vicious animal that had just found itself trapped by a predator.
It's okay, she promised gently. Are you alright?
The shame came then, quick, unyielding and Reagan found herself cringing away from it. And when the barrier between them slammed back down in place Reagan had to fight against the lump in her throat at the faintest whisper of loneliness that she caught right before the shields came down.
She knew he hadn't done that on purpose - that he would never have shown her something like that willingly, something so private, personal. But she hated him for it.
Because it felt just like her own loneliness. Ever present, crushing. And even if it pained her to admit it, her interactions with Loki for those few days, when he’d been helping her, guiding her, it had left her feeling a little less alone.
She was so sick of feeling like an outsider.
And not just on Asgard.
But back at SHIELD when she first got her powers.
Even in her own family.
She cut the thought short just as she always did when thoughts of her father threatened to invade her mind. But this time it wasn’t such an impossible task because this time her mind wandered instead to Odin.
Odin, who wasn't Loki's real father.
Odin, who had referred to his children as Thor, my son and heir and the traitor, Loki.
Odin, who had told him Frigga is the only reason you are still alive and you will never see her again.
The thought of it made her feel ill. She shouldn't have cared. She didn't want to care. But there was just something about it that niggled away at her, something she just couldn't make peace with.
Reagan's brow furrowed slightly when she felt the barrier shifting again. It was different this time, it wasn't intentional. She knew what it felt like when he let her in on purpose. Instead, it was like it was slipping away, melting.
Tentatively, Reagan bushed against the link and found herself floating in a confusing swirl of images.
Dreams, she soon realised.
Loki? She called softly, carefully.
There was no response, just the swell of disjointed images. Though this time they were peaceful.
Two weeks. It had been two weeks since their fight in the library; since his barrier had been set in place. Had he remained awake all this time just to block her out until exhaustion finally overtook him?
Reagan retreated from the bond and sat back up in bed. She reached for the book on her nightstand, opening it to the bookmarked page to help her ground herself in her own mind. She knew this was an opportunity she wasn't likely to see again - the chance to explore Loki's unfiltered thoughts - but she found she just didn't have it in her to do something so ugly.
She lifted her hand above the book and summoned forth her flames to illuminate the page and soon fell back into the flow of the story - the tale of Hamirr and Isolde, bearers of the mark who found one another on opposite sides of the battlefield. Their bond had snapped into place just as Hamirr had taken hold of Isolde, ready to deliver the killing blow. They had frozen and stared into each other's eyes for mere seconds before each had taken up their weapons to protect the other from their own people. The battle had ceased around them as they'd called for their companions to understand what had happened. And the battlefield had soon fallen silent, and the pair had never parted from that moment on. Their bond had ceased not only a battle but had brought forth peace treaties between two kingdoms that had been at war for three thousand years.
As Reagan read, she allowed her mind to brush the link intermittently, ensuring that Loki was still resting soundly.
She just wanted peace she told herself. She didn't want to have to see those images again - she'd remain awake for a while so he could rest and if he fell into those nightmares again, she could put a stop to it, rouse him, spare herself having to ensure it again. And so, she read into the early hours of the morning, reassuring herself that there was nothing about the tricker's peaceful slumber that eased some small tension in her soul.
Chapter Text
When Loki awoke the next day the humiliation from the previous night came rushing back with alarming force.
He'd been all too aware that he wouldn't be able to remain awake forever, he'd known that, but he hadn't expected that he'd leave her access to something so private when he finally succumbed to sleep. And not for the first time. He should have known better. And he knew it was his own doing. He'd blown up at her. He'd been adamant about not sleeping; keeping his shields in place. He just couldn't stomach the idea of letting her back in and making her privy to the regret he felt about their disagreement. But what eventuated was so much worse.
He scowled at the thought.
She'd been kind when she'd woken him. The thought made his insides twist all the more. He hadn't expected it. He hadn't expected her to ask if he was alright. Hadn't expected her to care.
And he certainly hadn't expected her to show up in his cell the next day holding a tattered piece of white fabric tied to a stick.
"Hi," Reagan said, somewhat meekly.
Loki stared at her for a few moments before asking the obvious question.
"What are you doing?"
She followed his gaze to the fabric she was waving.
"It's a white flag," she said, as though it was obvious.
Loki merely stared at her, squinting, bewildered. She glanced uncertainly between him and back to the flag again.
"Is that not a thing here or something? Okay. Never mind."
She tossed it idly over her shoulder and took a deep breath, glancing away from him, uncomfortably. She crossed her arms over her chest and sucked in a deep steadying breath.
"Look, this is crazy. We can't just half-ignore each other for the rest of our lives, right?"
"Well, I can certainly endeavour to try."
Reagan sighed.
"Come on, Loki. It's not exactly going well. We were making a lot more progress when we were working together - improving my shields. Besides, how much longer can you go without sleep before you keel over?"
Loki winced inwardly, he sensed that she didn't mean it as such, but it was a bruise to his ego. Part of him wanted to just tell her to go, to leave him be. It would be simpler. But he'd truly never expected that she would reach out to him again after what had happened, and so his curiosity got the better of him.
Reagan seemed undeterred by his lack of response. Instead, she seemed all the more determined to coax him into a conversation.
"I didn't mean to offend you that day, okay? I really wasn't trying to upset you or anything, I was honestly just curious. But we had a truce and I seem to have overstepped it somehow. What I said clearly struck a nerve and so I'm just, I'm really ssss..."
Reagan trailed off, the word seemingly dying on her tongue.
Loki furrowed his brow, observing her curiously.
They stood in a strange, uncomfortable stalemate before Reagan glanced his way, expectantly, evidently hoping she'd said enough.
Amusement flickered suddenly across Loki's features; a devious smirk making a home at the corner of his lips.
"What was that?" he asked, feigning ignorance.
She stared him down, trying her best not to glare.
He knew that she knew what he was doing.
And worse, she knew that he knew that she knew.
She inhaled deeply, steeling herself as she did her best to swallow her pride.
"I am trying to say," she said slowly, forcing herself to maintain eye contact. "That... I regret what I said to you the last time we spoke... and I would... I'd like it if we could move on from it. Go back to our lessons."
Loki grinned widely.
"Go on," he insisted. "Say the words."
Reagan squinted at him, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly in defeat.
"Isn't that enough?"
"Almost, I just want to hear that one other word you couldn't quite manage. That you're sor..."
"You really are an asshole, you know that?"
Loki just cocked his head at her, amused. "Is this your first apology?"
Reagan recoiled at the word.
"Ugh, do we really have to label it?" she asked dramatically, though Loki clocked the way she tried to hide the amusement from her voice.
He just watched her, patiently, as if he had all the time in the world.
Reagan groaned, caught in the trap - fully aware that it would be much more humiliating to retreat now than to just concede.
"Okay, fine! I'm sorry, alright? I'm sorry. Can we please just forget it happened? Please?"
Loki studied her as she waited expectantly. He couldn't quite work out what might have spurred on this newfound desire to make peace. He knew full well that he'd reacted to her too harshly, he knew that she didn't understand why. In truth, he hadn't really either. But then as he watched her, Loki's stomach twisted slightly when it dawned on him how tired she looked. There were dark rings under her eyes and her face looked slightly pale. He'd kept his barriers up since the fight in the library, stopped tracking her nights by her periods of rest. Was something preventing her from sleeping? He didn't like that he didn't know. He'd kept his barriers locked firmly in place until-
Last night.
The nightmares.
Loki had spent the morning stewing in regret, he hated that she might have seen them - seen his weakness. It hadn't even occurred to him that she might have to endure those images too. To feel them. Had she felt them? Loki was strong. He could endure - had endured - but a mortal...
Could the things she'd seen have been so unbearable that she would humble herself to make peace with him just to make them stop?
He willed the guilt away, but it coiled solid and resolute within him. If it had been anything else - anything else - he could pretend he didn't care. But those dreams...
"I suppose, in turn, I ought to offer you an apology as well," Loki said a little stiffly, at last. "I may have overreacted slightly that day, perhaps it was a little unnecessary."
"Wow," she blinked at him. "I can honestly say I wasn't expecting that."
"Well, when you receive an apology as heartfelt and poignant as the one you just delivered, one can't help but to be inspired to wax poetic themselves."
"Okay, shut up."
"No, truly. You could teach classes. Or perhaps, become a playwright?"
Reagan shook her head in disbelief.
"God, I can't believe only ten minutes ago I thought I missed your company," she muttered before her eyes flew wide with horror as she whipped around to look at him, realising what she'd just said.
"I didn't say-"
"I believe you did," Loki said, smugly.
"I misspoke," Reagan insisted. "It was just a poor choice of words."
"Evidently," he laughed. "So, you'd really like to recommence your lessons?"
Reagan nodded, taking a seat opposite him in the empty chair.
"You were right about something you said the last time we spoke. I did ask for your help. I still need your help," her voice sounded a little smaller now, uncertain. "I want to go home, and if I ever want that to happen, I need you. I can't figure this out alone."
Loki studied her once more. It was so unlike her to show him any kind of vulnerability.
"So now that I've apologised can we please, please try again?"
"Very well," Loki conceded at last. "Tomorrow, though. First, go get some rest. I'm sure you're exhausted from fretting over my absence."
Reagan rolled her eyes.
"Idiot," she muttered.
"Apologiser," he shot back.
"Wha-That's not even clever!"
"It doesn't have to be clever if it's true," Loki smirked.
Reagan shook her head even as she tried to hide her smile and the pair fell quiet for a few moments.
"So... we're good?" she asked, tentatively.
"We're good," Loki agreed.
"Friends?" she asked.
"Acquaintances." he corrected, with a look of incredulity.
"Best acquaintances," she insisted, splitting the difference just to irritate him.
"Fool," Loki muttered, even as he suppressed a smile.
Reagan fell quiet again and Loki looked up, mostly expecting her to be gone and the conversation to have concluded. Instead, he was mildly surprised to find her watching him, seemingly lost in thought. Her face was unreadable. Loki's brow furrowed slightly.
"What is it?" he asked.
His voice seemed to bring her back to the present, jolting her slightly when she realised she'd been caught staring.
"I, um... I met someone you know the other day," she told him.
He threw her a confused look.
"Sygran," Reagan clarified. "From the library."
"Ah," Loki replied, not wanting to say more. He wasn't so sure how he felt about that. Sygran had always seen more light in him than what truly existed. He tried not to think of her anymore. Tried not to think about what her opinion of him might be now, after everything he'd done. She was one person Loki loathed the idea of disappointing. Though, he'd always considered it to be inevitable.
"She's awfully fond of you," Reagan said finally. "I mean, she's clearly a terrible judge of character, but nevertheless it's true."
"And how was it that the two of you came to be acquaintances?" Loki asked, not quite ready to hear any more of Sygran's perspective of him.
Reagan hesitated for only a moment before replying, but Loki spotted it.
"She's been helping me learn about... about Asgard," Reagan explained, not quite meeting his eye. "I figured if I'm going to be here a while I should start learning about the place."
"Ah, so you've not been idle in my absence."
"Not at all, I've read more in the last couple of weeks than in my entire schooling career."
"Yes, that sounds believable."
"Shut up, dickhead," she rolled her eyes. "I just... I just wanted you to know that she still thinks about you. And that she'd visit you if she were allowed to. I think she'd want you to know that."
Loki's features hardened then, becoming difficult to read. Reagan watched him uncertainly, unsure if she'd made yet another misstep with him.
"Thank you," Loki said at last without meeting her eye, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
"You're welcome," she replied, sincerely. "Okay, well... see you tomorrow I guess."
Loki nodded and watched as her projection faded away, leaving him alone in a storm of new emotions.
From that day forth something shifted between the pair. They still squabbled to no end, but Reagan no longer felt like she was living with a knife at her throat. It was a relief and made every passing day on Asgard a little more bearable.
What was even better was that with each lesson, her shields were finally progressing. And with the agreement of peace between them, and each of them promising to be on their best behaviour, Loki was able to experiment with how to establish lasting shields while sleeping. Their plan was exactly that; to find a way to form a shield that could be kept in place by both of them during both consciousness and unconsciousness and to use the energy of the bond itself as a sort of support system for the shield itself. Without either of them constantly waring to get inside the mind of the other it should be possible, Loki theorised. Though neither of them knew if there were any truth to the theory, Reagan sorely hoped it would work.
If they could achieve that - shut the link in such a way - then the Atraxis should never be able to detect them. Reagan could return to Earth and Loki could go about escaping Asgard. Loki was quite confident that he just needed to better study the bond, and in time it could be done.
Reagan found him doing exactly that when she projected herself into his cell a few days later for a progress update. He was sat on the bed, his back straight and his eyes closed, impossibly still. The only sign that he wasn't an actual statue was the steady rise and fall of his chest. Reagan watched him for a few moments. She could feel him experimenting with the bond, his presence ebbing back and forth along it, only now it wasn't intrusive, and she felt no need to fight back. The more Loki came to understand it, the more likely (she hoped) he'd be able to find a way to put their shields in place with more permanence.
"Any luck?" she asked finally as she plopped herself down on the end of his bed.
Loki opened his eyes to shoot an annoyed glare her way, whether it was due to her interrupting him or because she'd taken a seat on his bed, she wasn't sure but either way she had no intention of moving.
"Nothing worth reporting," he admitted finally. "And have you made any progress? I felt you practising."
"Indeed, I have. Check this out!" Reagan closed her eyes and concentrated, bringing up her newly formed barriers.
She focused and Loki reached out down the bond to watch as she surrounded her mind in deep, velvety black encompassment. It was by no means sturdy and flickered in and out of existence as she struggled to maintain her focus, but it was undeniable progress from where she’d started.
Evidently, she wasn't able to hold it for too long as it soon fell away but nevertheless, it was something.
"Not bad, mortal," he said.
Reagan smiled and looked away, embarrassed that he likely felt the glow of pride his praise emanated in her. Her eyes fell beyond the confines of Loki's cell and she watched as a golden-glad guard marched past, not sparing her so much as a glance.
She tilted her head as she watched him go.
"Hey, how come none of the guards ever care that I'm in here? Surely this can't be allowed, right?"
"They can't see you," Loki explained. "I've cast an illusion to make it look as if I'm here alone."
Reagan looked surprised.
"You can do that?"
Loki nodded.
"Interesting," she mused as she stood and moved closer to the cell wall, peering out to watch the guard pass once again on his return trip. She waved at him. Nothing.
"I'm surprised you don't mess with them," she said, still watching the guard. "I mean, you must get bored in here. You don't cast little spells here and there?"
"Odin's spellwork means my magic is confined to this cell, otherwise I'd be delighted to. I used to have quite an affinity for wreaking havoc before I left Asgard."
"Gasp! No way," Reagan said dramatically. "Hey Loki, that was sarcasm."
"Yes, believe it or not, I detected that."
Reagan turned to look at him over her shoulder.
"I did hear about a few of your more annoying pranks from one of the maids. Turning all the wine into ink? That's actually not bad."
Loki smirked. "I'd forgotten about that."
"You know, when I was younger, my cousin and I liked to pull pranks on each other."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah," Reagan smiled a little at the memory. "He once filled my whole backpack with shaving cream when I was in fifth grade. I thought my mom was going to kill him. So, to retaliate I zip-tied all his clothes so he couldn't put anything on. Like all his t-shirts and pants, even his socks. Oh, and the scissors so that he couldn't actually cut open any of the ties. So then, to get back at me he painted all my shoes blue. So, I taught his pet parakeet to say 'Mom's a bitch' so she'd think it learned it from him. It kind of escalated from there."
Loki snickered and Reagan couldn't help but to smile a little in response.
"When we were children and I was just getting the hang of my spellwork, I learned to transform myself into a snake. Thor loved them, you see, forever picking them up to play with them. So, I waited for him to discover me, and at last, when he did pick me up, I transformed back into my true form and stabbed him."
There was a beat of silence.
"WHAT?!" Reagan exclaimed in sheer disbelief before bursting into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.
"What?" Loki asked, perplexed.
"That's not a prank, you psycho!" she managed to gasp.
Loki, who should have been annoyed, found it rather infectious and couldn't help but laugh along with her as she doubled over again, tears forming in the corner of her eyes.
"I fail to see how that's any different to you and your cousin tormenting one another."
"Loki," she turned to look at him in disbelief, still wiping tears of laughter from her face. "It's so different it's crazy."
Soon, Reagan was able to compose herself enough to ask another question.
"So, illusions huh?"
"It's one of the first things my mother taught me to do."
"Show me something?"
Loki quieted for a moment, thinking, before he lifted his hand to show her a simple trick, yet one of his favourites. His fireworks.
Reagan's lips parted slightly in a silent gasp as she stared at the display. Slowly, she moved closer to him, not blinking even once.
"Whoa," she breathed softly.
He watched her as the light show illuminated her features with various hues of gold and purple and blue. She stared at them in wonder, leaning in closer again.
"Are they hot?" she asked, looking as if she was itching to reach out and touch them.
"No," Loki assured her. "They aren't made of energy like your flames, they're merely a thought given form. If you were to try and touch them your hand would simply pass through them, much like your projection."
To emphasise his point, Loki reached out his hand for hers, expecting to ghost through it. Instead, his fingertips brushed gently against hers. Skin against skin. Solid. Firm. Real.
The pair jumped apart suddenly as if they'd just electrocuted one another. The look on Loki's face caused Reagan's heart to race. Something had happened, something that shouldn't be able to happen.
"Impossible" Loki murmured.
Reagan stared at him in disbelief, watching as he was obviously trying to process what had just occurred. Seeing an opportunity in his distracted state, she reached out experimentally and poked him in the ribs. Her hand made real contact with his side. Loki instantly swatted her hand away, irritated.
"Ouch," she said pointedly, as she cradled her hand to her chest.
Loki, however still seemed too preoccupied to pay much attention.
"That shouldn't be possible," he murmured, more to himself than to Reagan as he stared at her hands. "It must be something to do with the bond."
"Or maybe I'm just really good at magic?" Reagan suggested.
She was instantly met with the most incredulous look she'd ever seen on another person's face.
"Trust me, I think we can safely say it's the bond."
"Well, that's rude."
"And yet, so accurate."
Over the passing weeks, Reagan had taken to joining Thor and his friends for evening meals every few nights when they weren't off-world battling rebelling forces. They were a warm company - comfortable. And on those nights when she dined and drank and laughed with them, they all left her feeling welcomed and safe and a part of something.
Well, almost all of them.
All except for Sif.
"You're not from Asgard?" she said to Hogun one night, as he was telling her a story of his first time seeing the Bifrost and the mighty city of Asgard.
"No, my home planet is called Vanaheim. I first met Thor when Asgard came to defend my home from an invading force. We fought well together, and when Thor requested that I join his ranks I accepted. It was, after all, the greatest of honours a son of Odin could bestow upon a warrior."
Reagan smiled at him.
"What's it like there? Vanaheim?"
Hogun launched into his explanation passionately, and all the while, Reagan was keenly aware of Sif's frosty gaze settling on her while she thought Reagan wasn't paying attention.
She doesn't like me, she said to Loki, not for the first time, as she took a drink to disguise her retreat from the present conversation. Determinedly, she kept her focus on Hogun, though her eyes seemed to want to wander towards the dark-haired woman of their own accord.
I'm sure you're just imagining it, Loki replied. She's always been a slightly sour woman.
No, this isn't that. Reagan insisted calmly. She's warm with the others, she talks to them. Me, she hardly even looks at me. If I try to talk to her, she never gives me more than a word or two in response. She always sits as far away from me as possible.
Well, I can assure you, you're really not missing out on much.
But why? Reagan pressed. What do you think I did?
Perhaps she's afraid of fire.
A soft smile bloomed on Reagan's face.
I don't get the impression that she's afraid of much, Reagan replied.
She hazarded a glance in Sif's direction and her attention had shifted to Thor and Volstagg who were contesting which of them had taken down the biggest foe on the battlefield that day. She laughed along happily with them, joined in the conversation with genuine and friendly enthusiasm. Reagan was well aware of the way she would stiffen if Reagan had then tried to contribute.
It could be due to Thor's affection towards you, Loki conceded at last. It's evident he has a soft spot for you. She can't like that.
Ohhh, Reagan said in newfound realisation. Her and Thor, huh? I didn't realise.
Not exactly. Though Sif has always desired the pairing.
Oh wait, but Thor told me about that other woman he met on Earth. Jane? He's like, obsessed with her.
Perhaps then, she's just concerned that my brother has a preference for mortal women.
Maybe, Regan replied, even as she scrunched her nose in disagreement.
That wasn’t it. There was something more to it. She was certain.
Reagan watched the other woman for just a few moments too long and Sif, sensing it, turned her way and caught her eye. A chill ran through her at the frosty look Sif threw at her. Reagan dropped her gaze, turning her attention back to Hogun, willing herself not to look at Sif again for the rest of the evening.
Later that evening when they'd bid the others goodnight, Sif and Fandral walked together through the castle grounds, each on their way back to their chambers. They were bathed in almost total darkness, but their Asgardian senses allowed them to see easily enough.
"You know, you could try to be a little friendlier towards the mortal," Fandral said at last, earning him a scowl from the other warrior. "She can tell that you don't like her."
"I don't much care," Sif replied, stiffly. "In fact, I rather prefer it that way."
"She's a nice girl, Sif, she's done no harm."
"She shares the mark with Loki," Sif shot back.
"She cannot help that she was chosen. She has no more control over the situation than you or I do."
"She may not have any control of it, but think of what it says about her, Fandral," Sif rounded on him to face him properly as she spoke. "We have not witnessed the mark for centuries, and of all the people in all the nine realms, she is paired with Loki. Loki who tried to kill our king. Who tried to kill us. Who had Thor banished so that he might rule in his place. What kind of person is she truly? What kind of soul would match one like his?"
Fandral stilled, uncertain now. He was almost ashamed to admit that the notion hadn't really occurred to him.
"You know, there are rumours," Sif went on, "that those burns on Halvor's hands were caused by her? They say she attacked him unprovoked."
"Why would she ever do something like that?"
"Why did Loki do the things he did?"
"If that were true, why wouldn't Halvor have said it outright? Why is it just a rumour?"
"Perhaps he is ashamed that a mortal bested him. Or perhaps… he is afraid of her."
Fandral sized the woman up for a few moments.
"Thor trusts her," he told Sif quietly, to which Sif responded with a frustrated huff.
"Thor trusted Loki," she replied. "You know how dear Thor is to my heart. You know I would follow him into any battle throughout the nine realms, but when it comes to his brother, Thor's judgement is askew."
The pair stared at one another.
"I don't like that she's here," Sif said with finality. "I don't trust her. Nor should any of you."
With that, Sif turned on her heel and retreated into the darkness leaving Fandral alone with his thoughts. Her words weighed heavy on him. He hadn't considered what the link said of the mortal's soul. He hadn't seen her as a threat, but rather as another of Loki's victims. Another life he'd stained.
His brow furrowed as he replayed every interaction he'd shared with the girl.
She'd been sweet. Kind. Innocent, even.
But was it all just an act?
Could the mortal be just another monster, lying dormant amongst them until the moment was right to strike?
It was late at night and Reagan was wrapped in silken sheets, curled up against the softest pillows and yet sleep evaded her because of one intrusive thought that would not leave her be. She'd spent weeks pouring through every book on Asgard she could get her hands on, and still, she found no answer. She rolled over and prodded gently down the link.
Loki?
Yes?
She was mildly surprised when he answered almost immediately, though she wasn't sure why; she knew well enough by now how little he slept by comparison to her.
How does the water not run out? she asked softly.
What water?
All the water spilling over the sides of Asgard. Where does it go?
It was a question she'd asked him weeks ago now, and it had been with the intention to drive him crazy. But ever since she'd asked it she couldn't help but wonder about the real answer. And now, settled comfortably in their newly established peace agreement, it felt safe to ask.
And yet she was met with silence.
Reagan wasn't sure whether she was more annoyed or disappointed. She was about to protest his silence when realisation dawned upon her and the frown that was beginning to bloom on her face morphed swiftly into a satisfied grin.
You don't know do you? she asked.
Wha-of course, I know!
No, you don't.
I do.
Then tell me.
...would you please just go to sleep?
Her features stretched into a full-blown smile as she detected the vaguest hint of reluctant amusement brushing against their link.
Okay fine, she relented, pulling her blankets more tightly around her. But fair warning; you better start thinking up a convincing lie because I'm going to ask you again tomorrow.
Sleep well, you idiot.
Sweet dreams, asshole.
Chapter 12
Summary:
Surprise! I didn't think I'd upload this early. But I have a bunch of assessments due so it might be a few weeks and this is literally my fave thing I EVER wrote in my whole life. I'll be back as soon as I can. Please enjoy. To the cherubs who leave reviews, thank you. I can't tell you how special it is to read your feedback <3
Chapter Text
"Would you rather... shave all your hair off or wear it so long that it swept along the ground behind you?"
"I'm still failing to see the point of this game."
"There really isn't much to get. It kills time and you get to know a little more about the other person," Reagan shrugged. "It's just a good way to pass the time on long car rides or, you know, when you're trapped away in a prison cell for all of eternity."
Loki was reclined on his bed and Reagan lay on the ground with her legs propped up against the wall, her ankles crossed. Their most recent lesson had long since been abandoned though neither had realised it had happened nor just how much time had passed. As was becoming commonplace, the pair had become distracted when disagreeing over something insignificant - on this particular occasion, it had been about where the inflection should be placed in the word controversy.
Loki was rapidly discovering that Reagan's attention span was far shorter than he'd initially hoped for. What he wouldn't admit to her, though, was that it was in fact rather dull being trapped in a cell for all of eternity - as she put it, and so he didn't really mind so much when their conversations strayed from their lessons and into new territories such as this. Not that he'd ever make her privy to that information.
Reagan herself was finding that she was in much better spirits of late. She was adjusting to life on Asgard, having a much better understanding of their ways and how to integrate herself into them. Having an ever-present tour guide in her mind helped with that admittedly. She was sleeping a lot better, no longer on edge as she had been when she'd first arrived. And while she never expected the gossip to die away completely, she could feel the way the common folk were slowly growing disinterested in her. Her spells were improving, growing stronger. And much to her surprise, this new truce with Loki seemed to be lasting. All in all, she was enjoying her time on Asgard far more than she ever thought she would.
She felt... peaceful.
"I suppose I'd prefer it long," Loki conceded at last.
"I knew you'd say that," she smirked.
"How so?"
"You just seem to really like your hair, you don't strike me as the buzzcut type."
"And what about you? Which would you prefer?"
"Oh, definitely long," she agreed. "I'd worry that if I shaved it all off, people might think I'd slept with you."
She smirked at him teasingly and Loki flicked the small, crumbled parchment ball he'd been playing with at her in response. It shot harmlessly through her projection but he still managed to make her flinch a little.
"It's your turn," she prompted, whilst wishing she could throw something back at him in return.
Loki let out an exaggerated annoyed sigh but complied.
"Would you rather... die by the blade or in the vacuum of space?"
"Jesus Christ."
"What?"
"Nothing, it's just a little dark, isn't it?"
"Not ten minutes ago you asked me if I'd rather spend the rest of my years deaf or blind."
"That's completely different."
"It is not."
"Is so."
"Is not."
"Is so."
"Do you think if I did lose my hearing then perhaps I wouldn't have to endure listening to you in my head anymore?" Loki teased.
"One way to find out," Reagan said. "Find me something sharp."
"Ah, so death by blade it is."
"Please," Reagan said as she stretched lazily. "I could totally take you."
Loki scoffed. "In what universe?"
"This one, bitch, let's go."
Loki blinked at her in surprise, she met his eye and seemed just as startled as he was.
"Sorry. I got a little overenthusiastic there."
"Yes, I dare say you did."
"Well, at least now you know what happens when you cross me."
"I was already aware of those consequences; I end up with crude drawings of genitals burned onto all my bedding."
Reagan threw her head back and laughed.
"Okay!" Reagan said by way of announcing herself. "I really think I've cracked it this time."
"Hello to you, too," Loki responded, not even glancing up from the page of the book he was reading.
It turned out that Reagan had been quite serious about her threat to find a Midgardian that Loki actually liked, and she came to him every few days with a new suggestion. The pair had quickly formed a recurring routine of her appearing in his cell, convinced she'd found the one, prattling off some nonsense about some idiot mortal followed by Loki dismissing the suggestion completely. Surprisingly, each of his rejections only seemed to spur Reagan on, each one pitched with more and more determination. Determination, Loki suspected, to prove him wrong about something. It would explain her passion for the project.
She had started by introducing him to some obvious ones - Earth's great artists like Mozart, Shakespeare and Da Vinci. He'd actually been aware of all of them and insisted that he was less than impressed.
"I'm not a hack," he'd told her. "I planned to take over the planet. I did my research."
She'd had a moment of clarity not long after that, realising that she'd been going about it from completely the wrong angle when she'd gotten it wrong once again.
"You can't not like Gandhi," she'd groaned at him dramatically. "It's Gandhi."
"Please, it's common knowledge he was a sex pest."
"Whoa! You can't say that." she'd admonished.
Loki had given her a look. "I can do whatever I like."
"He said from his prison cell," she'd drawled sarcastically, before peering at him curiously. "...Is that actually true?"
"Do your research," he'd grinned, ever-infuriatingly.
Of course, Loki didn't like the do-gooders. Why would he? They bored him. So, she had moved on instead to oddities, troublemakers and conspiracy theories.
"I've got a good one today," she insisted, with all the confidence in the world. "I think this is the one. This is the day I break you."
"I'm having the strangest sense of déjà vu," Loki pondered. "Whyever could that be?"
Reagan just ignored him, moving to the corner of the cell that she had deemed her 'lecture corner.' While she was slow in building the shields in her mind up to a satisfactory standard, the same could not be said for her projections. She'd learned to bring the objects around her with her projected self as well, using it to her advantage when pitching a new Midgardian in the form of visual aids. Loki watched her, secretly amused, as she began to stick her notes to the walls of her chambers so they would reflect into his cell. She had really upped her game since he'd knocked back so many of her suggested "likeable Midgardians."
He'd never admit it, not even to himself, but he was beginning to enjoy her company. More than that, he'd begun to look forward to the time he spent with her. While she still annoyed him to no end, there was something about her that he couldn't help but to find charming. She was overwhelmingly stubborn and could be quite the hot-head, but she was also funny and insightful and while they teased each other relentlessly, something he'd noticed about the way she poked fun at him was that she was never cruel. She was never needlessly harsh. Even when her jokes were at their driest, their most sarcastic, she never once struck him as malicious. He told himself time and time again that this was foolishness on her part - naivety. Convincing himself to believe it, however, was another matter altogether.
He was pulled from his thoughts as Reagan cleared her throat, indicating that she was ready to begin.
"Okay," she said, stepping into her lecturer persona as she spun to face Loki, who leaned back against the wall, watching her. "Today I am going to introduce to you one of the greatest human beings to ever exist. The only man in US history to ever successfully single-handedly hijack a plane, hold an entire airline hostage without harming a single person, collect a $200,000 ransom, escape by parachute, and has never been captured to this day."
Loki's eyebrow quirked and he sat up a little straighter, not saying a word. Could this really be about to happen?
"This is the story of the man, the myth, the legend - and one of my personal all-time favourite people-"
Loki couldn't suppress his smirk. This was going to be utterly delectable.
"The absolute badass known as D.B. Cooper."
She looked Loki's way, hoping for a reaction.
He couldn't resist.
"Alright, I'll admit you've piqued my interest," he said as he settled a little more comfortably into his seat, indicating that he was giving her his undivided attention. "Tell me all about this all-time favourite person of yours."
Reagan absolutely beamed at that. It was by far the most enthusiastic response she'd received from him so far and so she launched eagerly into her story with a newfound fervour, excited to think that she was at last on the right track.
"Oh my God, okay! So, let me set the scene. The year is 1971 in Portland, Oregon on Thanksgiving Eve and we are boarding a plane to Seattle. Now, we think that he picked this date because there'd be fewer people travelling. Thanksgiving is-"
"I know what Thanksgiving is," he assured her.
"Oh, great. So, security for air travel was pretty lax - you could basically just show up, buy a ticket and go where you wanted to go. And let me just tell you, one of the reasons that D.B. Cooper is so impressive-"
Loki bit down on his lip.
"-is because security was so poor, plane jackings were actually a super common occurance. They were literally happening an average of once every five days."
"Truly?"
"Yes. But no one else ever got away with them because no one really had a legitimate escape plan, just a list of demands and a destination they wanted to be taken to."
"Expect for D.B. Cooper," Loki added.
"Exactly!" Reagan agreed, excitedly. "Anyway, we board the plane, we take off, the stewardesses start handing out refreshments and when one of them got to a man wearing sunglasses who sat alone in the middle of the back row, he handed her a note. Now, she just thought he was flirting with her and so she put the note in her pocket without even reading it so Cooper actually had to call her back and be like... uh, you should read that. I've got a bomb."
Reagan seemed all too amused by the idea and Loki sat there, studying her, having to try far too hard not to smile.
"Anyway, this stewardess then comes and sits down next to Cooper. He opens a case and shows her that he has what looks like a bomb. He tells her to go to the cockpit and make his demands for him. And what he demands is $200,000 in cash, for the plane to be refuelled when they land in Seattle and four working parachutes. Which is another reason he was so smart-"
Loki had to close his eyes for a moment to maintain his composure.
"-the fact that he requested four parachutes instead of just one. So the authorities couldn't actually tamper with any in case he decided to take hostages. So the stewardess gives the pilot his demands and then goes back out and keeps talking to him, trying to get hints about who he is or where he's going. She asks if when they land he'll allow the other passengers to get off safely which he agrees to so long as he gets his money first which I think is pretty cool. And she also asks him if he's doing what he's doing because he has a grudge against the airline. And what he says to her is really interesting. He tells her he doesn't have a grudge against the airline but he does have a grudge."
Reagan continued to unfold all the events, helpfully peppering in little trivia facts along the way to give Loki context of Midgard that she assumed he'd be unaware of.
"Something I really like about him, too," Reagan said, Loki at this point was in a state of sheer disbelief that she wasn't just saying these things on purpose now. "Was that when interviewed, the hostess that he interacted with this whole time said he was really kind to her. She said he was polite and conversational, and whenever she'd start to panic he'd calm her down. In fact, when he wanted to lower the rear stairs in mid-air so that he could escape the poor girl completely freaked out because she thought she'd get sucked out and die and so he let her go into the cockpit with the pilots where she'd be safe and lowered the stairs on his own."
Reagan shrugged.
"I just think as far as criminals go, he sounds like a bit of a sweetheart."
That one almost killed him.
Reagan went on, she told him the conspiracy theories surrounding the story, delving into the most likely suspects. She spent a fair bit of time on who evidently seemed to be her favourite suspect - a transgendered woman who had not been allowed to remain in the air force due to her sex change.
Loki sat patiently through her lecture, enjoying how passionately she picked apart the story. In truth, a small part of him didn't want to spoil her fun, but a far, far bigger part of him had to see her reaction. And that was definitely the part that was going to win. In fact, there wasn't a force in the universe that could stop him from doing what he was about to do. The Atraxis themselves could come for them at that very moment and it still wouldn't deter him - he would merely find a way to make them wait their turn.
When it finally came to an end, she turned to Loki expectantly for his reaction. She was smiling brightly, confident that she'd finally won him over.
"So? What do you think?" she pressed.
Loki pulled himself from his seat and moved toward her, hands clasped behind his back as he inspected the makeshift police sketch that she'd done her best to recreate.
"Alright, I'll admit it." he gave her a quick glance, before returning his attention to the sketch. "I do like this one."
She gasped and moved closer to him, excited energy positively bursting from her.
"Really?" she asked.
"Yes, you're right. He's quite fantastic!"
She couldn't contain herself, bouncing up and down on the spot and clapping her hands.
"I mean, he really is brilliant," Loki continued. "Such a genius plan. And he sounds quite charming, daring, cool under pressure... Not to mention handsome"
He watched her, the way her brow creased with blooming suspicion even though her hesitant smile lingered in place.
"I mean... yeah..." she answered slowly, suddenly unsure. As if waiting for a punchline.
She squinted her eyes ever so slightly as she studied his features, knowing him well enough now to know when he was up to something.
He turned to her at last with a wide grin. "He sounds like quite the trickster."
Loki watched as the gears in her mind shifted into place. Her smile faltered a little and her eyes suddenly flicked between Loki and the police sketch and back again. Even as comprehension dawned on her, he could see her trying to reject it. Her whole expression began to shift and her head seemed to tilt in question against her will.
Loki gave her the tiniest of nods. It seemed to be all the confirmation she needed.
"No," she said at last.
"Oh, yes."
"No, there's no way." She walked to the other side of the cell then turned around and came back when she realised there was nowhere else to go. "That was you? You're D.B. Cooper?"
"I am, indeed."
"You're lying." she laughed.
"Not this time I'm afraid."
"No," Reagan said adamantly, her eyes flicking back to all the notes she'd pinned to the wall. "No, no, no. There's no way. It's not possible."
"It's not probable," Loki corrected. "And yet, here we are."
"Prove it."
"How can I prove it?"
"I don't know, that's not my problem."
Loki went quiet for a few moments, contemplating the details Reagan had recounted, searching for some detail she may have omitted. Another grin soon formed on his face.
"The stewardess," he said at last. "The one you said called him kind."
"Yeah..."
"Her name was Tina."
Her eyes flew wider than he'd ever thought possible.
"Son of a bitch!" Reagan exclaimed, earning another satisfied chuckle from the dark-haired god.
She stared up at him, taking in the sight of him, as if she was now seeing him from a totally new perspective.
"You're actually D.B. Cooper," she repeated once again, her fingers pressed into her temples in her state of sheer disbelief.
"I am."
"Loki... What the hell were you doing hijacking a fucking plane?!"
"I lost a bet to Thor."
"You lost a bet to..." Reagan trailed off, taking in a large, steadying breath and pinching the bridge of her nose. "I hate you so much."
"Come now, that's not true," he said lightly.
"Oh, it absolutely is."
"No, it's not," Loki protested. "Before you began your tale you called me one of your all-time favourite people."
Reagan looked up at him with fresh horror on her features. For once, utterly lost for words.
"It's always nice to meet a fan." Loki teased and her face contorted, if possible, to look even more scandalised.
Reagan's eyes darted around the room as if looking for an escape as she remembered all the compliments she'd inadvertently showered over him in the past half hour.
"Oh my god, I'm your fan!" she said, mortified. She buried her face in her hands. "Oh. This is so embarrassing."
Loki laughed out loud once more. He found himself laughing a lot more often when she was around.
"Oh god," she whined, her voice muffled by her hands as she hid her face from him. "Now I'm going to have to figure out how to erase your memory and that just sounds like sooo much work."
Loki just shook his head, thoroughly enjoying himself. His features were still stretched into a smile so wide that it was beginning to make his face ache. It had been a long time since he'd felt so gleeful.
"So, when you said you had a grudge..."
"Yes?"
"It was against Thor, wasn't it?"
"It was against Thor, yes."
"Oh, my God. You have no idea how much time I've spent wondering about D.B. Cooper's goddamn grudge. I wish I was dead."
Hours later, the novelty of the joke had worn off ever so slightly for Loki due to it's unexpected snowball effect. Once she recovered from the initial embarrassment of the situation, it turned out Reagan wanted to know every last detail about the events which had occurred on that fateful day. Every last detail.
"But was the bet to steal a plane or to get the money?"
"Neither. I owed Thor a sum, he failed to specify the type of currency. I wanted it to be something he couldn't readily spend," Loki responded. He was reclined against his pillows, one arm tucked behind his head, the other slung over his eyes to block out the light. Reagan sat cross-legged at the end of his bed, much to his chagrin, staring at him as she pressed him for detail after detail.
"Are you almost out of questions?" Loki asked for the umpteenth time.
"No," she said impatiently. "Was the bomb real?"
"No, it wasn't."
"Did you have a backup plan in case you got arrested?"
"I wasn't going to get arrested."
"But what if you did?"
"I would have just cast a spell and got away," he told her as though it was obvious.
Reagan let out a heavy sigh.
"Have you ever come to Earth as any other infamous unsolved mysteries?"
"In all honesty, I can't answer that. I wasn't even aware this was one."
"But that's so unfair," Reagan said. "I can't risk making this same mistake the next time I pitch a Midgardian. I'll die."
"Next time?" Loki repeated. "Have you not achieved your goal? I admitted to liking D.B. Cooper."
"Yeah, and obviously that doesn't count," Reagan protested. "The only Midgardian you actually admit to liking can't be you!"
Loki smirked, smugly.
"Why not? I think it's rather fitting."
"Yeah, I do have to say, it makes a lot of sense."
Loki lifted his arm away from his face to peer out at her to find she was already smirking at him rather affectionately. A matching smile involuntarily tugged the corner of his lips.
"Go on," he relented. "What else do you want to know?"
"Where'd you get the sunglasses?"
Chapter 13
Notes:
Wow, so this chapter turned into a bit of a behemoth! I thought about splitting it into two but I just like the way it flows all together.
Just a special little thank you to my anonymous reader, Mel. I love your reviews. Thanks so much for leaving so much feedback, it's so fun to read <3
I hope you all enjoy this chapter :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"Loki!"
"Yes?"
"You have a castle."
Reagan had once again appeared unannounced in Loki's cell while he was seated on his bed with his feet up, thumbing through a book, idly trying to pass the time. It had become such a common occurrence these days that Loki could no longer muster the energy to be annoyed by it. This time she came holding an ancient-looking textbook. It was so thick that she seemed to actually be struggling to hold it up, but the look on her face indicated that she was far too excited to care. Despite his best efforts, the sight caused a small grin to break past his composure.
"I do," he confirmed as he continued to watch her struggle.
She just stared at him for a moment, as if she was expecting more.
"You have a whole, entire castle," she then emphasised, as though he perhaps hadn't heard her correctly the first time.
"Yes, I'm aware."
"You have your own whole, entire castle," she pressed once more, stabbing her finger pointedly into the page she had opened in the massive book.
"I'm royalty," he said simply, as though it was obvious. A clear explanation for the entire situation.
Reagan set the book down at last with a dramatic huff, shaking her arms in an attempt to get her circulation moving again. She then set her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, accusingly.
"I suppose because it's not something I go around announcing to people," Loki said simply.
"Why not? You own a castle. I mean, I brag to people about my phone case."
Loki smirked.
"Yes, I'm sure you do."
He watched as Reagan moved towards him and sat down on the end of his bed; another thing he'd long since given up protesting. Her eyes were bright with excitement, and anticipation seemed to radiate from her. If Loki weren't so thoroughly impervious to such things, he might have found it mildly infectious.
"Can I go see it?" she asked him hopefully.
Reagan stared out across the crystal-clear water as the Skiff she'd hired jetted out away from Odin's golden, looming palace. She breathed in deeply, appreciating the cool, fresh, salty air as her hair whipped around her freely. For what was not the first time, she glanced over to find her escort - the man steering the Skiff - watching her, before quickly glancing away, tension evident in his entire frame. She'd seen it in him the moment she'd showed him the map of where she wanted to be taken, the way his expression had darkened even as he'd nodded stiffly to her. The way his gaze flicked down to her sleeve-covered arms.
She'd felt Loki's hesitation in that moment.
Word will get out about this, he'd told her, clearly uncertain of what her reaction might be.
Reagan had only shrugged.
Too late now anyway, she'd told him as she'd boarded the Skiff.
In all honesty, she didn't really see what the big deal was this time. It's not like Loki was going to be there - it's not like she was going to visit him. And, well, who wouldn't want to go explore an abandoned castle?
When she caught the boatman glance at her and then away again, she couldn't hold back a slightly weary sigh. She leaned her elbow onto the edge of the Skiff and balanced her chin on her fist, returning her attention to the horizon.
He certainly doesn't say much, she commented to Loki, trying and failing to hide her own discomfort from him.
Of course, he does, Loki responded, lightly. You're just not paying attention to him, the poor soul.
Reagan's brow furrowed and she turned back to look up at the boatman again, confused. Had he been making an attempt to speak to her that she'd just been ignoring? Was that why he seemed so ill at ease around her. She watched him for a few moments before Loki's low, sing-song voice echoed in her mind.
I am a ventriloquist, ventriloquist, ventriloquist. I am a ventriloquist and I practice every day.
Reagan whipped back to face the water as quick as she could to hide her smile from the boatman.
You're a moron, she told him, a clear warmth in the words. You know I'm going to need you to teach me how to drive one of these things, right? So that I can avoid these kinds of interactions in the future.
I ought to start charging you for all these lessons you request of me.
Sure, put it on my tab. I'll settle my bill when you get out of lock-up, she teased.
Oh, hilarious.
Thank you.
It was then that Reagan felt the Skiff begin to slow and she looked up, watching as they drew closer to a looming cliff face. Atop it, jutting out over the water and bathed in the warm light of the late-afternoon sun, stood a towering castle. A massive, spiralling staircase was carved into the cliff, from the very base, right up to the castle steps. The spray of the ocean air had weathered the graphite-coloured walls, making it look age-worn on the side facing the water. The light played across the turrets and spires, adding to its eerie presence and a faint orange glow already illuminated some of the many lancet windows, as if fires and candles had been lit in anticipation of her visit.
"Whoa," she breathed as she stared up at it.
She stood, unable to take her eyes off the structure, and moved to disembark before the Skiff had even pulled to a complete stop. Perhaps it was in part because she was so far away from the golden city but there was something about the castle that made her feel... elsewhere. It wasn't like the rest of the architecture throughout Asgard. It wasn't like anything. She felt drawn to it, she wanted to be closer, wanted to run her hands along its stone walls.
Now, I need your word that you won't befoul anything here the way you did the last time you entered my dwellings.
Loki's words snapped her out of the spell she seemed to have fallen under momentarily.
"Wait," she said slowly. "You're going to let me go inside?"
Fresh excitement bubbled within her.
You already knew that, Loki replied, confused.
"I thought we were just doing a drive-by! Taking a lap or two around the outside, and peering through a few windows. I didn't realise you were going to let me explore the inside!"
Well, you needn't feel obligated-
"Are you crazy?! If you're going to let me then, of course, I'm going in."
She moved eagerly to make her way towards the stone staircase when another voice caught her attention.
"My lady?" called the Asgardian, still standing at the helm of the Skiff. "Would you like for me to wait here?"
She paused, with a small swell of guilt as she realised she'd forgotten he was still present.
"Oh... no, that's alright. I've got it from here. Thanks for your help."
"But, my lady-"
"Really, it's fine! Have a great day," she called over her shoulder, waving goodbye. She was already retreating, eager to see what the inside of the castle had in store.
By the time she reached the top of the staircase, she was absolutely gasping for breath.
"Okay..." she said between deep gulps of air as she braced her hands on her knees. "Message received. My cardio routine starts up again first thing tomorrow."
An image of Natasha bloomed suddenly in her mind. After the seemingly endless hours, she'd spent training Reagan at SHIELD, helping her to build her fitness, and strengthening her body; she could only imagine the way the redhead would kick her ass if she could see her now, gulping down oxygen all because of a staircase. Actually, Reagan thought, she'd probably kick her ass for more than just one reason.
If by that you're referring to me then-
"Hey, butt out," Reagan chastised, before turning to face the castle again.
Well then, stop wasting time daydreaming and open the infernal doors.
Reagan marched up the stairs, annoyed by the very concept of obeying any of Loki’s instructions.
It was only as she pushed against the massive doors, that she realised she had been expecting them to be locked. But instead, they gave way easily to her.
As the heavy doors parted with a low, ancient groan, Reagan awaited the musty scent of abandoned places to hit her. Instead, the air was filled with the fresh fragrance of forest plants. She stepped inside the darkened castle and breathed out in wonder as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Before her in front of a wall of arched, tinted windows, two symmetrical curved staircases descended to form one. The railings were dark and intricate. The floor beneath her feet, the colour of onyx, and a deep forest green carpet sprawled its way up each staircase.
Fine art and tapestries hung on the walls all around her, illuminated by the muted light the windows allowed through. Overhead hung lanterns adorned with flickering candles.
The whole space was also alive with thriving plant life - ferns and climbers and small trees, though it did not appear as though the castle had been taken over by nature in its master's absence, but rather, that nature had been worked into the architecture itself - as if they were one.
"Loki, this is... beautiful," Reagan said, as she turned slowly on the spot, attempting to drink it all in.
He'd grown so used to her tendency to poke fun that she sensed his obvious surprise at the sincerity with which she said it. But there was nothing to joke about here, nothing to tease. The castle was breathtaking - otherworldly.
With every step she took, her footsteps echoed out into the empty stretches of halls, disturbing the eerie quiet and so Reagan slipped out of her shoes and padded barefoot upon the onyx floors as she wandered deeper into the castle.
It had a strange lingering sense of loneliness to it. As though it had a weight to it. Substance. And she was struck by the sense that she was not the only one within the castle walls. A shiver ran down her spine. She hugged her arms around herself suddenly as she scanned her surroundings again, growing a little uncertain.
"This feels... haunted," she murmured. "Is it haunted?"
Loki's laughter rang out in her mind.
Don't tell me you mortals believe in ghosts?
"Well, not super believe, but..."
You believe in ghosts.
"Shut up, I do not."
It really seems as if you.
"Okay, fine. Maybe a teeny tiny bit?"
Well, that is just adorable.
Even as she blushed, she rolled her eyes at him.
"But for real though, am I alone? Who lit all these candles?"
You're alone. And you're safe, he added when he sensed her unease, even if he did sound a little patronising. The candles are enchanted. They're evermore.
"No way," Reagan breathed, moving towards the most nearby sconce to take a better look. "How long have they been burning?"
A few decades. I have to redo the spellwork every so often as the magic fades but other than that, they self-sustain.
She peered into the flame, at the wax of the candle that appeared to be melting. She passed her fingertips slowly through the fire. It didn't feel like her fire, rather it was laced with a prickle of what she now knew to be magic. She didn't know how to explain it - what it was about it, exactly - but it felt like Loki, like his presence. It was his. She scooped it up into her palm, allowing the flames to dance in between her fingers as she studied them. It was strange how different the enchanted flames felt compared to her own. She continued down the hall, her focus still so consumed by the flames engulfing her hand that she almost missed it.
The smallest glint of gold in the corner of her eye caused her attention to shift once more and she turned to peer into the room she was passing.
"Oh, no way," she whispered as she doused the flames in the palm of her hand.
She swept into the room which appeared to be some sort of armoury. There were blades of all different shapes and sizes. Light gleaned off each of their razor-sharp edges, some long and curved, some needle sharp. Not one even a fraction out of place. Reagan passed the awe-inspiring display with a fleeting glance before she turned her attention back towards the object which had caught her eye in the first place.
Loki's golden-horned helmet.
Displayed on a mount atop a small round table in the centre of the room. Reagan moved closer, circling it slowly as she studied it, watching as the light glinted along its ridges and curves from the shifting angles. Up close it was impossible to deny how beautiful an item it was, how fine the quality of it was, how expertly crafted. It was so strange how formidable it had seemed to her when she'd first laid eyes on him in New York - the God who brought torment and chaos with him, who had come to claim the Earth for his own, wearing his golden antlers. Those horns, such a symbol of great power, of great evil. It was a strange, eye-opening moment, to realise exactly how much her view of him had shifted. Those horns, only a few months earlier, had been such a symbol of evil, of hatred, when now, they were just some gold hat in a cool castle that belonged to Loki - the annoying voice who unwillingly lived in her head.
Well, thank you for that, Loki commented sarcastically.
She smiled.
"Mind if I try it on?"
Is that truly necessary?
"I'm trying it on."
Reagan ignored the way Loki grumbled about it as she lifted the helmet and placed it on her head. The gold was thick and solid, and it weighed far more than she had anticipated. She felt the pressure of it in her spine, it was as if it planted her feet more solidly into the ground. She turned carefully to observe herself in the reflection of a glass display case, filed with jewel-crusted blades. She studied herself, the way the brow piece framed her eyes, trying to imagine herself as royalty. She laughed a little. If it meant having to wear that thing all day, no thank you.
"Jesus," she muttered. "Loki, I think I've found the source of your anger issues. This thing is heavy, it must be murder on your neck."
I'm capable of lifting 50 tons, Reagan, he said dryly. I can manage a helmet.
"Classic denial," she teased as she hoisted the helmet off again and returned it to its resting place.
She then turned to take a better look at the knife display, sizing it up.
"Now, which ones can I play with? Which are best for fancy tricks?"
I'm fairly confident you're joking, Loki responded slowly. But I can never be sure with you, so I just need to point out that you are, in fact, entirely alone, you'll most certainly cut yourself almost immediately and likely bleed out if you do actually intend to play with anything inside this room.
"Jeez, alright. Chill out, mom."
"What's in here?"
Reagan ducked her head into yet another room.
She'd been at it for hours, weaving in and out of hallways, up and down staircases, exploring every nook and cranny of the place, begrudgingly admitting that Loki had rather fine taste. It was so unlike Odin's palace - every inch of it covered in gold, ostentatious - instead, this place was dark, yet elegant. It felt... timeless. Peaceful.
She stepped into the newly discovered room to find a surprising set-up. There was a large workbench, far simpler than any of the other rooms were furnished. Stacks of parchments sat atop it, and jars of different coloured liquids. An easel stood in the corner of the room with a blank canvas set upon it. All around the room were canvases and rolls of parchment of varying shapes and sizes. Paint brushes and quills and charcoals were scattered all throughout, surrounded by dozens upon dozens of evermore candles of all different shapes and sizes.
"You paint?" Reagan smiled at the surprising sight.
I've tried my hand at it from time to time.
She found it more surprising still, that she could very much picture him in this space. Paintbrush in hand, immortal patience as he added detail after detail to his work. His clothes in perfect condition but maybe just a few small paint stains littering his long fingers. Perhaps the tiniest smudge of blue upon one of his cheekbones.
Reagan reached the paint-stained bench and flicked through a few of the parchments stacked there. There was a lot of scenery work. Locations in Asgard. Some from this very castle. All intricately done, with expert brush strokes.
"Wow," she remarked, earnestly. "You're good."
She flicked through a few more before one sight caused her to still, the air rushing out of her lungs.
Carefully, with slightly trembling hands she pulled one particular parchment free from the stack.
It was a painting of a girl. A girl whose entire body was ablaze with brilliant, unyielding flames.
"Is that... is that me?"
It wasn't possible. Loki had been locked away in his cell from the moment he had returned to Asgard. He hadn't returned to his chambers to collect any personal items, and he certainly hadn't returned to a castle on a remote island. But that painting, the way the flames licked up the figure on the page, the sweep of her hair, the curve of her face. It was undeniably her. She stared at the parchment, unblinking, at the hands postured to yield the fire. Those were her fingers, they looked identical. It was her.
How had he-
Sometimes magic breeds dreams in the form of vague premonitions. Loki explained as he tracked her thought pattern, though there was something in his tone that Reagan didn't quite believe. Nothing more nothing less. I don't even remember painting it.
She couldn't quite believe that. Not from the amount of detail he'd worked into the image. The way her eyes shone brightly. The way they almost looked real. There was something about it, something in the care taken, Reagan couldn't help but think how beautiful she looked in it. How could this just be a premonition in some meaningless dream? How long ago had he painted it? Were there others?
Her eyes wandered slowly from the parchment she was holding to the other images scattered around the room. Were there more of her hidden away in her? How many times had he painted her face? Her flames? Her eyes soon fell on a small leatherbound journal, resting on the same workbench as the stack of journals. She reached out for it.
Wait, Loki said suddenly.
Reagan froze, her fingers still brushing the book she was reaching for.
Please don't look at that one.
Reagan smirked a little and picked the book up. It wasn't very often that she got the upper hand with him, so she couldn't help but indulge herself.
"My, my," she drawled studying the blank bindings of the book as though it might give away its own secrets to her. "Have I finally found that secret journal of yours after all? I knew it existed," she teased.
Loki, however, didn't appear to think it was any laughing matter.
Reagan, I beg of you. Please, put it back.
Unease stirred deep within her at the way his voice sounded in that moment. The absence of his obnoxious confidence, his sarcastic tone. She didn't like it.
"Fine," she relented placing the book down where she'd found it, still trying to make light of the situation. "But only because I still haven't fully recovered from the fact that you're DB Cooper."
She felt the way he rolled her eyes at that but also sensed his relief. She glanced back at the book one last time before making her way towards the door to continue exploring the rest of the castle.
"It's pretty crazy to think that if you hadn't hijacked a plane a few decades ago I'd have access to your deepest, darkest thoughts right now, huh?"
Loki laughed along with her, amused, but she could still sense a little of the relief that pulsed off of him. She wondered what her past self would think of her if she saw the way she so freely walked away from such a delectable opportunity to humiliate the trickster.
Talk about growth.
Or stupidity.
She still wasn't quite sure.
Reagan turned a corner and walked past a wall of long windows illuminated by a flash of lightning. Long veins of water tricked down them joined by large droplets assaulting the window panes. She gazed out, watching the storm. The was a deep emerald green lounge beneath the window, a thick fur pelt thrown over it.
"Where did this weather come from?" she wondered out loud.
It's another enchantment, Loki told her. It's the same throughout this entire wing. I found it peaceful, the rhythm of the rain. It used to help me sleep on restless nights.
She ran her hand over a sinfully soft pelt of fur as she passed it, moving to exit the room.
Take that with you, Loki told her. Some nights it snows through the rest of the castle.
Reagan smiled at the thought as she scooped fur up into her arms and instantly felt the warmth of it just from holding it against her chest. Thick and silver-grey and impossibly soft. For how dense the fibres were, it wasn't too weighty. A strangely familiar scent filled her nostrils - something she couldn't quite place. Something that reminded her of cedarwood and amber, she found something to it to be soothing and lifted it closer to her face to breathe in the scent. She smiled.
"You enchanted it to snow inside your castle?" she asked.
I'm rather fond of the cold.
Reagan quickened her step a little as she made her way down winding hallways, eager to find these enchanted corridors.
With the warm fur pelt draped over her shoulders, a substantially sized bowl laden with various fruits in one hand and an even more substantially sized glass of strawberry wine in the other, Reagan made her way out onto the balcony adjacent to the kitchen that looked out over the ocean.
"The kitchen is stocked?" she'd asked, upon finding the space that looked midway between a kitchen and a greenhouse.
The foods are evergreens, Loki explained. They grow here, and don't begin to rot until long after they're plucked. Help yourself.
"Oh, I could get used to this," she told him as she made her way around the room collecting fruits and berries.
Don't get any ideas about relocating here.
"Why not? It's not like you're using it right now," she'd teased.
The sun was just setting, the sky was a beautiful gradient of orange and purpled hues, and stars were just beginning to wink into existence above.
The steady crash of waves on the shore below was strangely hypnotic, soothing, and she gazed out, watching the light fade on the horizon as she fed herself berries, enjoying the solitude. Well, the solitude plus Loki. The cool wind kissed her skin, and she pulled the fur tighter around her frame. There was something comforting about the scent of it. Strangely familiar, yet she couldn't quite pinpoint it. There was just something about it that felt like... home. She found herself burying her face in it and breathing deeply in between sips of wine and bites of fruit as she and Loki chatted idly about their favourite features of his castle she'd just spent hours exploring.
"On Earth," she told Loki as she leaned back in her chair, resting her legs on the stone railing of the balcony as she stared up at the night sky. "We do this thing where we find patterns in the stars and name them. We call them constellations."
Yes, Reagan. Loki replied, dryly. We do that too, everyone knows about star systems.
"Alright," she replied a little defensively. "You made fun of me for talking about ghosts earlier. I wasn't sure."
I made fun of you for believing in ghosts, Loki corrected.
For the fiftieth time that day, she rolled her eyes.
"Do you know any constellations or not, butthead?"
She could feel the way Loki smiled in response.
Loki directed her gaze to a cluster of stars directly above her.
That just above you, the three to the right and the nine that trail down from it? She is the Goddess, Iðunn, said to be the giver of Asgardian's prolonged life. Legend has it, she stole the Golden Apple from the Ancient One. The only being to ever possess true immortality. She cut the apple into thousands of pieces and fed it to her people so it would be eons before they aged, and they would never grow ill.
Reagan smiled and settled back into her seat as Loki pointed out each cluster of stars and told her their tales. She picked at her berries and listened attentively, her gaze falling back over the calm swells of the ocean below from time to time.
And that is Jörmungandr, the great serpent. Loki continued. Odin used to tell us when we were young that if we ever misbehaved, he would trap us below the city where the serpent would drip a poison more corrosive than acid upon us as punishment.
"...I'm sorry, he fucking what?!" Reagan shot up in her chair in pure horror.
Loki laughed at her reaction, but Reagan was genuinely mortified.
"Has anyone ever told you that your dad sounds like a total dick?"
Yes, actually. Sygran, on more than one occasion.
"Smart woman," Reagan muttered, still processing Odin's approach to parenting as she swigged her strawberry wine.
She is, indeed.
Reagan stilled at the tone in his voice. It wasn't often that Loki sounded vulnerable. Sentimental. And she caught the pang of sadness he tried so hard to conceal from her.
"Do you-" Reagan hesitated, unsure if what she wanted to say might anger him. She desperately wanted to avoid undoing the frankly unbelievable progress they made towards coexisting peacefully. "Do you want me to go see her? Deliver a message for you? Because I will, you know... if that's something you wanted. I would help you."
Her words were met with silence and she grew more hesitant.
"Loki?" she pressed softly.
Not yet, he said at last. Perhaps some time but-
"Okay," she said gently. "That's okay."
Thank you... Loki murmured. To even offer something like that, I... thank you...
"Of course," she murmured back.
The pair fell silent, neither quite sure how to move on from the strangely gentle moment, neither used to it.
Reagan leaned back in her seat and gazed up at the night sky, alive with thousands upon thousands of glittering stars.
"Do you have a star?" she asked, more so to break the silence than anything.
I do actually, Loki admitted. You'll see it just along the horizon... a little more to the left... That one. It's a great honour to have a star named for you. A way to ensure your legacy lives on. It was a gift from Frigga.
Reagan smiled at the thought. The more she learned about Frigga, the more highly she thought of her.
"She really loves you," Reagan told him then, earnestly.
Once again her words were met with silence. She let out a long, slow breath and looked skyward once more.
"I want a star," she decided.
She felt Loki's amusement at the idea trickle down the link.
Pick one, Loki said simply.
Reagan leaned forward and scanned the liquidy expanse of evening sky that stretched out above her into infinity, adorned with a million, million glimmering lights. Soon her sights settled on one in particular.
There was something unique about it.
It glimmered just a little differently from the others, with a slightly cooler tone. Where the others seemed to burn ever so slightly golden, this one seemed cooler - some icy blue hue.
The frost to her flame.
It felt right.
She squinted one eye shut for accuracy and stretched her pointer finger out as far as she possibly could, honing in on it.
"That one," she said resolutely.
Loki let out a surprised laugh, and it caused Reagan to hesitate, unsure of what she'd done to illicit such a response.
"What?" she asked, strangely self-conscious.
It's just strange that you should pick that one... It's not actually a star. It's the frost planet, Jotenheim.
"Oh..." She said softly. She'd read a little about it in her attempts to educate herself about Asgard, but there'd been so much to cover about everything else that it had been low on her list of priorities. All she knew was that there had been a war a few centuries back, one that Odin had won. Another notch on his belt. Reagan looked up at it again, the way it glimmered overhead. So easily discernable from the rest.
"Well, I still want it," she said adamantly. "It feels like it's supposed to be mine."
Loki's reaction was muted - hazy - and Reagan couldn't quite decipher it, as if he were trying to conceal it from her. But despite that, when he spoke to her again his tone was light.
Well, in that case, I gift it to you. It's yours.
She couldn't help but smile at the sentiment. It was such a uniquely Loki-style of arrogance, to just give away a planet that he had no claim to. She snuggled a little deeper into the furs she'd all but engulfed herself inside of.
"It's kind of fitting, actually," she said, her gaze still fixed upon her newly claimed planet. "I don't really feel the cold anymore since what happened to me, so I'd fit right in there quite comfortably."
Reagan felt Loki's incredulity, pure and potent.
You are aware you're currently wearing one of the finest furs in existence? Anyone would think themselves impervious to the cold whilst wrapped up in such a thing.
She looked down at the way she'd basically burritoed herself inside the pelt.
"The irony is not lost on me," she assured him. "But there's a difference between being cold and wanting to feel snuggly. Plus, you offering it to me was a rare instance where you were actually being nice, I had to positively reinforce the behaviour by accepting."
Fool.
"See?"
Reagan looked up once again, her eyes searching the great expanse above her as she felt a now-familiar ache, deep in her chest.
"Can I see Earth from here?" she asked softly, feeling vulnerable.
She scanned the sky again, hopeful, as if she might find it herself, gazing back at her. Missing her.
She buried her nose in the fur once more, breathing in the calming scent.
You can't see it tonight, Loki said at last. But it's out there.
She smiled softly at the thought, albeit a little pained, and buried her nose into the fur wrapped around her, breathing in the comforting scent.
So, Loki said, his tone shifting entirely. Are you going to continue to keep me in suspense or have you decided upon another Midgardian you think you can tempt me into admiring?
Reagan giggled. She had, in fact, thought of another. Seeing his art studio had all but solidified her certainty that this time she’d found the right one. But she was still so scarred by her last attempt that she'd been putting off trying again.
"Okay, fine," she relented, pulling the furs even tighter around her shoulders and gazing up at the stars. "But first, you have to swear to me you've never come to Earth under the name Stuart Semple."
To the best of my knowledge.
She squinted suspiciously.
"I smell a loophole."
Then perhaps you should wash it better.
She almost choked on the surprised laugh that fought its way up her throat.
"Well, well, well... Mr I'm-too-good-for-toilet-humour finally stoops to my level," she mused.
Well, my sheets are covered in phallic shapes and anuses. It was bound to happen eventually.
"I threw in some vaginas, too."
Yes, well, I'm saving those for a special occasion.
Reagan just blinked, utterly lost for words.
"What is happening right now?"
I'm merely trying my best to distract you from the fact that I am, indeed, Stuart Semple.
"WHAT?!" Her whole body went rigid, suddenly. Her eyes blew wide with disbelief.
I'm kidding, Loki relented.
Reagan breathed an overwhelming sigh of relief.
She slumped back into her chair, amusement and annoyance battling for dominance inside of her. She shook her head and laughed.
"If I ever see you in real life, I'm going to punch you so fucking hard."
I'd expect nothing less.
She could feel his smile match her own.
"Okay," Reagan said, picking her drink up once again. "Now that I know you've got a thing for art, I feel like you might actually like this one."
I've heard that before.
"Yeah, yeah. Do you want to hear this or not?"
Go ahead.
"Okay, before I tell you about Stuart Semple, I need to tell you about Anish Kapoor. Our villain of the story."
Villain? You're not going to bore me with another common do-gooder, are you?
"I've learned my lesson, Loki. Just trust me and stop interrupting. So, Anish Kapoor is an extremely famous and successful artist, like untouchably elite at this point. He's made millions from his artworks and people say that he's got a huge ego. Apparently, he's super narcissistic. He's probably best known for this giant mirrored sculpture called Cloud Gate in Chicago. Now this sculpture is kind of shaped exactly like a giant kidney bean. To the point that people just refer to it as The Bean, and let me tell you how fucking much he hates that shit."
Loki hummed his amusement.
"And not only that, this bean is enormous and it's in a public space but Anish Kapoor hates people taking photos of it. He actually had a security team around the bean trying to stop people from taking its picture, but they eventually gave up when his team sort of realised it was impossible. It's too big in too big a space. So anyway, because of all this and a few other things, this guy has rubbed a lot of people in the art community the wrong way - you know, because of his shitty attitude."
Evidently.
"But then it got even worse when this paint was released called Vantablack, which was said to be the blackest black in existence. It absorbs almost all light completely and bounces nothing back. It was originally designed for stealth crafts because it's so black that anything you paint with it actually loses visual dimension. It's kind of crazy to look at. It was meant to be for camouflage in the night sky but for many reasons that I won't get into, it turned out to be impractical. Anyway, when it became known that the paint wouldn't be used by the army, along came Anish Kapoor with all his millions of dollars and bought exclusive rights to it, meaning that no other artist on Earth would ever be allowed to use it but him. Not for just a year or a decade or whatever, not even just in his lifetime but for the rest of eternity."
She felt a dull pulse of annoyance from Loki.
Is this commonplace on Midgard?
"Actually, no. It wasn't. There was absolute outrage among the artistic community because everyone had wanted to try the most black paint of all time and then some rich guy comes along and monopolises it forever? Like he didn't even invent it, he had nothing to do with the process of creating it, he was just rich. It was such a fucked up thing to do."
Yes, those were my thoughts exactly. What a scoundrel.
Reagan snorted suddenly.
"Did you just call him a scoundrel?"
Yes, Loki replied indignantly. His behaviour is the textbook definition of a scoundrel.
"You can be such a dork sometimes."
You know, not all of us have to resort to bodily orifices to insult someone. And why am I suddenly on trial instead of this clear and obvious scoundrel?
"Well, however you feel the need to phrase it, I am glad you feel that way," Reagan said, still smirking. "Because that's exactly what Stuart Semple thought too. So, he's an artist as well, but he firmly believes that art is for everyone and should be about joy and fun and when he found out that no one else would be able to access Vantablack he decided he needed to stage some form of protest. Semple had been mixing his own pigments for years at that point and he decided that if no one else was allowed to use the blackest black paint then he was going to make the pinkest pink and make it super affordable and accessible, and anyone who wanted to use it could, except Anish Kapoor."
Loki laughed out loud then.
How did he manage that, exactly?
"He had a website where he sold his pinkest pink paint and you could go on and get it for something like $6 to cover the production cost because he didn't even want to make a profit. But in order to add it to your cart, you had to sign a disclaimer saying that to the best of your knowledge, you were not Anish Kapoor-"
Loki's laughter rang out once again.
"-you were in no way affiliated with Anish Kapoor, and you were making the purchase with the belief that your paint would not end up in the hands of Anish Kapoor."
And did Kapoor learn of this?
"Indeed, he did."
Marvellous.
"So Semple hadn't expected to sell much of this paint, he was mostly just doing it as a joke, but it absolutely blew up in the art world. Everyone wanted it and news outlets were covering it. Basically, people were actually just super excited to state clearly that they had no association with Anish Kapoor just by owning this paint. And poor old Anish did not handle this well. He managed to get his hands on a jar of the pigment and posted a photo on social media giving Semple the middle finger after he'd dipped the tip of his finger in the paint."
Exactly how I'd expect a true scoundrel to react.
Reagan shook her head with a smile.
"So Semple sent him this hysterically petty letter in response, telling Kapoor that he needed to apologise for hurting everyone's feelings and to give him back his pink because he didn't want him to have it. But if Kapoor could be nice and learn to share his black paint then he could keep his pinkest pink and join in with everyone else, so he didn't feel so left out."
Loki's laughter ran out in her mind again and Reagan couldn't help but to smile brightly along with him. She snuggled down further into the warm fur surrounding her and rubbed at her eye a little, they were beginning to grow heavy.
"So, a little disappointingly, Semple doesn't get any response from Kapoor about this letter. So the next thing he does just to continue to antagonise Kapoor is release the glitteriest glitter, that anyone in the world can use-"
Except for Anish Kapoor.
"You got it," Reagan confirmed with a giggle, before yawning a little and snuggling deeper into her fur cocoon. "The glitter was called Diamond Dust, and he made it out of tiny shards of razor-sharp glass so that if you were to dip, say, your middle finger into it..."
Loki roared at the idea.
"You're genuinely enjoying this," she accused, happily.
Alright, perhaps I am, just a little. I appreciate the pettiness.
"Well then, here is the icing on the cake," Reagan said, closing her eyes just so she could rest them as she told the rest of the story. "Vantablack is extremely toxic, it's flammable over above a certain heat and there are just all these problems and special conditions you need in order to use it. And Semple now had this team behind him, all working towards making these cool, different pigments-"
She paused to loose a long, drawn-out yawn.
"-and eventually they released a pigment called Semple's Better Black-"
They really called it that?
Reagan smiled. "They did. It wasn't quite as black as Vantablack but it was awfully close, it was safe for anyone to use, and it only costs about $12 a bottle..." She yawned once more. "And just to top it off, they made it smell like black cherries."
Loki was thoroughly amused by the whole concept and had to clutch his side while he laughed uproariously.
And then what did he do? Loki managed to ask at last.
...
Reagan?
Reagan didn't respond. Didn't feel the trickster's demeanour soften ever so slightly. Didn't hear the affection in Loki's voice when he spoke to her once more.
Of course, you'd fall asleep right as I was going to admit defeat. Rest well, you sweet, stupid thing.
Reagan slept deeply, wrapped in the soft, warm fur, the crisp evening air kissing gently against her face. She didn't stir, not even to roll over until the first rays of morning light spilled over the horizon and spread as slowly as warm honey over her sleeping features.
As it roused her from her peace, she squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face deeper into the furs to block out the light.
You know, it's rather rude to fall asleep in the middle of a conversation.
She didn't open her eyes, but a small smile formed on her lips.
"Sorry, I couldn't help it," she said as she stretched and yawned and pulled the fur she'd slept beneath tighter around her shoulders. "It's just that I find you sooo boring."
Loki laughed, it sounded in her mind, low and soft.
Come, you should get up, he encouraged. When did you arrange for the boatman to return for you?
The question seemed to jolt Reagan awake quite suddenly.
"...when did I arrange for what?"
Notes:
Full disclosure, I realised after I'd written the majority of this chapter that the Semple vs Kapoor Vantablack war actually started in 2016 so it doesn't line up with the timeline if Avengers happened in 2012. BUT I think the feud is so funny and I genuinely think Loki would appreciate the pettiness so I decided to just keep it in.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! :)
Chapter Text
"You did this on purpose."
I assure you, I didn't.
"You absolutely did."
How was I supposed to know you didn't ask him to come back?
"I don't know, maybe because you're inside my freaking head?" Reagan shot back. "How was I supposed to know there's no way to contact people from here?"
Reagan stood on the shoreline below Loki's castle, glaring at the distant, golden cityscape of Asgard which Loki was currently imprisoned beneath. The ocean breeze whipped her hair all around her as she stood, helpless, looking out over the water. Her good mood had been thoroughly ruined upon finding herself marooned and she had been standing on the beach for the better part of an hour, trying to figure out what to do.
It was a long way - a long way - but perhaps if she paced herself, she could swim there. Float on her back when she needed breaks-
Don't try to swim there, Loki interrupted the thought, all amusement suddenly vanishing from his voice.
"Well, what else am I supposed to do?" she huffed, annoyed.
Just call out for Heimdall, he'll be able to send for help.
"But that's so embarrassing!"
Heimdall, she heard Loki call out suddenly. The fool mortal got herself stranded. Would you send someone to collect her before she dies of exposure?
"Heimdall!" she shouted pointedly. "You see everything. Wasn't this so clearly Loki's fault?!"
He can't respond, you know.
"I don't care, it's making me feel better," she said, crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly.
Before long, Reagan spotted a Skiff in the distance approaching from the direction of the city. She scowled at the sight, her cheeks tinging ever so slightly. When it slowed to a stop before her, it was not lost on Reagan the way the boatman glanced from her to the castle and then back again as she climbed aboard his vessel. He was not the same person who had dropped her to the island, but he wore the same exact look of mistrust when he eyed her.
She ignored it and took her seat, resolutely facing away from him.
"Thank you for coming to get me," was all she said to him, and received a curt nod in return.
Isn't there someone else you should thank? Loki asked then. His tone was light. Evidently, he was enjoying this far more than Reagan was.
Oh yeah, I'm glad you reminded me.
"Thank you, Heimdall," she said brightly as the Skiff took off back towards Asgard.
I actually meant-
I know exactly who you meant.
Reagan remained resolutely silent for the whole journey back towards the city even as Loki poked at her teasingly, making every attempt to get a rise out of her.
If Reagan had been truly annoyed at him for whatever part she believed that he played in her becoming stranded, it appeared that she recovered quite quickly because it wasn't long before she once again showed up unannounced in Loki's cell, as if nothing had ever happened. Once again she found him reclined on his bed, reading. But he didn't look up when she appeared, didn't even acknowledge her.
"Hey, what have you been up to?" she asked, trying to get his attention as she plopped herself down in one of the chairs.
"Travelling the world," Loki responded sarcastically without looking up from the book he was reading. "Sight-seeing. The usual."
Reagan's brow furrowed as she squinted at him, sizing him up. There was something... off about his energy. Though he was reclined, there was something strange about his posture. He seemed tense, perhaps a little uncomfortable. And there seemed to be something rather intentional about the way he avoided looking her way.
"Are you in a bad mood?" she asked.
"Not at all, it was just a stupid question."
"Okay..." Reagan responded slowly, still watching him. "What's going on with you? Why are you being weird?"
"I'm being nothing of the sort."
"You totally are. What's going on?"
"Nothing," he insisted. "I'm simply trying to read without being interrupted. Is that alright with you?"
Reagan's eyebrows pinched together once more as she studied him, confused, and honestly, slightly hurt. Her stomach twisted a little and for the first time in a long time, she was growing uncomfortable in the now-familiar cell. She glanced away from Loki, hesitant, and realised perhaps it would be best for her to just let her projection fade and leave him be.
Loki let out a frustrated huff when he sensed her unease. He shook his head impatiently. As he kept his gaze resolutely on the page in front of him, he jutted his chin towards one of the cell corners.
"There's something over there that might be of interest to you," he told her, stiffly. "Go have a look."
Reagan turned to look where he had indicated, still unsure and spotted a new pile of roughly twenty books that hadn't been there a few days earlier. With one more hesitant glance in Loki's direction, she stood and moved towards them, curious as to what they might be. Perhaps some books on Asgardian art since she'd just discovered Loki's interest in it. Or maybe new places throughout Asgard that she had yet to discover and explore.
They turned out to be neither.
As she drew closer to them she stilled. She looked back at Loki, her lips parted slightly in surprise before she turned her attention to the stack once again. These books weren't like the others that she'd found throughout Asgard - in her chambers, the Great Library, in Loki's castle. These weren't worn or leatherbound nor did they have pages gilded in gold. These were paperbacks. Simple. Cheap, even. They looked new, untouched as if they had just been purchased. These books were from Midgard.
Reagan reached slowly to take the first one from the pile.
Northern Lights by Phillip Pullman.
She picked up the next.
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak.
Each of them was a newer title, nothing like the encyclopedias Loki had shown her in the library. Reagan turned to face him. Loki was still resolutely focused on whatever he was reading. Her heart fluttered a little, and a telltale lump of emotion formed in her throat. She fought against it, calming herself before she spoke.
"Where did you get these?" Reagan asked him at last, her voice soft.
"I had my mother send one of her servants to collect some of the more popular titles. I told her I was interested in better understanding Midgardian culture," he muttered, as if only half paying attention.
Reagan looked up, uncertain.
"Did you... did you do this for me?" she asked him.
Loki nodded stiffly.
"I grew tired of listening to you moan about Midgard," he said with a dismissive sniff, flicking to the next page. "I still don't understand the allure but it's my hope you'll stop your constant complaining now. I can't have them sent to your chambers though so you'll have to read them here."
A soft smile was blooming on Reagan's lips, despite still feeling a little dazed. Warmth spread through her chest. This tiny piece of home, of something familiar, here in her hands. It was... everything . She looked back down at the books and opened one slowly to flick through it as she tried to make sense of Loki's demeanour that so dramatically juxtaposed the kind gesture he was offering her.
"This is so... nice," she said at last. "And thoughtful, a-and out of character for you..."
She glanced his way and still, Loki didn't respond. He still refused to even look at her, all too focused on what he was reading. She tilted her head a little as she studied him.
"...why would you-- Holy crap." She slammed the book shut and she stared at him wide-eyed with sudden clarity. She could hardly believe the words she was about to say. "You like me."
"Holy crap... You like me."
Something pulled in Loki's stomach in response to her words. It was a foreign feeling, one that he decidedly didn't care for at all.
"What? I most certainly do not," he said, sounding offended at the very idea of it. His eyes finally flicked to her for only a moment before he went back to pretending that he was focused on his novel.
"Yes you do," Reagan insisted as she moved closer to him to catch his attention, still clutching one of her new books to her chest. "You're definitely not indifferent about me, and I don't think you hate me. Not anymore."
Loki didn't respond - it was a rare occasion that words failed him but as his heart began to pick up pace, he found himself unable to even open his mouth. Reagan, however, seemed to have plenty to say.
"You don't even get annoyed when I hang out in your cell. It's been weeks since you've rolled your eyes when you see me-"
Loki did roll his eyes at that but she quickly wagged a playful finger at him, undeterred.
"Uh, uh, uh," she teased. "Way too late for that, mister. I meant when you first see me... Come on, you laugh at a bunch of my jokes. You actually answer a lot of my questions sincerely now. And two days ago-" she grinned at him triumphantly, "-you gave me a compliment that wasn't even that backhanded."
Loki did have to hold back a smile at that and looked up to meet her eye at last, and it seemed to be a mistake because he'd never seen such an elated smile on her face. He cast his gaze away from her once again in feigned annoyance.
"Admit it," she insisted, radiating pure satisfaction. "I've grown on you."
Loki faked a scowl for her benefit.
"Alright, maybe a little," he grumbled.
"Ha!" she cried before she gasped, her hand shooting up to cover her mouth in disbelief. "Oh my god, I can't wait to see the look on Thor's face when I tell him I've made friends with you."
"Now, now. I wouldn't go that far," Loki interjected, at last abandoning the guise that he was at all focused on the text in his lap and throwing her a look of pure incredulity.
"I would! You won't be there to deny it, I can say whatever I want." She shot him a grin. "I could even say we're best friends."
At last, a smile stretched across Loki's face as he shook his head in disbelief, laughing.
"You really are insufferable, you know that?"
"Yeah sure, whatever you say, buddy ," Reagan laughed as she picked up her book and moved to sit beside him on his bed.
"So, I guess that's two Midgardians I've convinced you to like now," she drawled, smugly.
Loki sneered.
"I never admitted to liking anyone else."
Reagan pulled a face as she side-eyed him.
"Please, you loved Stuart Semple and we both know it. 'Hahaha, what more of him, Reagan? Do continue your tale, Reagan,' " she said in her best - yet terrible - attempt at Loki's accent.
"I do not sound like that," Loki insisted.
"That was a flawless impression."
"You are the most annoying person I have ever encountered in my entire life."
"Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before."
Reagan leaned against the headrest and tucked her legs underneath her happily as she opened her book. As she did, her knee brushed up against him ever so slightly, and she made no attempt to move away. It was as though she didn't even notice - almost as if she wasn't repulsed by the thought of touching him.
It was just a projection, he reminded himself, it wasn't really her. And it was different, to truly touching another person. He couldn't feel the warmth of her body heat where her leg touched his, he couldn't smell the scent of her hair despite how close she was sitting beside him. But still, it was solid, present. Something . And Loki wondered vaguely if perhaps she was unconsciously summoning her flames in her excitement because his whole leg felt as though it were humming with energy.
He stared at the page in front of him, in a failing attempt to read the same sentence over and over again.
They sat in silence for a few moments before Reagan spoke once more, this time her voice was far more gentle.
"Hey, Loki?" She looked up at him and he turned his head to face her. "I can't tell you how much this means to me. Thank you... Really, thank you."
Loki nodded once in acknowledgement.
"And just so you know," she added, gently. "You've kinda grown on me, too."
She offered him another small, sincere smile before she returned her focus to her book just in time to miss the way Loki's features softened. He watched her for a moment, the smallest smile playing on his lips before returning his attention to his book, enjoying the feeling of her leg pressed against his.
"Are we almost there?" Reagan asked as she made her way up the cobblestone staircase.
She was somewhere in Medina, the lower city of Asgard, making her way through the winding, crowded streets upon Loki's instructions.
Almost, Loki insisted, slightly annoyed. Do you want to see it or not?
"I don't really know at this point," Reagan admitted as she clung onto the railing, hauling herself up step after step.
It had started earlier that day when Reagan had finally convinced Loki to teach her how to operate a Skiff so she wouldn't have to rely on the boatmen in the future to get around. Loki hadn't been that thrilled by the idea.
"Come on," she'd whined. "Please? What's the worst that could happen?"
"You could crash and die and I'll be blamed for your untimely death."
Reagan had only considered his words for a moment before she'd stood and determinedly started to make her way down to where she'd last acquired a transport.
"Where are you going?" he'd asked.
"I'm going to figure out how to drive a Skiff," she'd told him. "And you can either help me, or you can watch it go horribly, horribly wrong. Up to you."
Loki had loosed a long, steadying sigh then, evidently attempting to keep his temper even.
"Very well, but you will listen to every instruction I give you and follow them to the letter," Loki told her firmly. "And if you are injured in any capacity, you will tell everyone who will listen that I protested this whole idea."
"Deal," she'd agreed happily and soon found herself climbing aboard an unoccupied vehicle.
It had taken a few hours, but she'd gotten the hang of it, steering this way and that over the vast Asgardian sea. Loki had insisted she stay well away from the city, and the Bifrost and anything else that she might crash into. He seemed entirely convinced that any obstacle she might happen upon, she'd make it her sole mission to collide directly with it. And when she'd slowly grown more confident in her ability to operate the Skiff, he had positively bellowed at the top of his lungs any time she had started to go too fast.
"You're worse than my mom when she was teaching me to drive," Reagan had teased as she'd slowed the vehicle down.
"Well, if you were as terrible at that as you are at this then I can hardly say I blame her," Loki had shot back.
Reagan just smiled even as she rolled her eyes.
Eventually, when Loki himself was a little more satisfied with her ability, he had allowed her to do a little more than just zoom around across the open ocean. He had directed her-
" Slowly !"
"Yeah, I heard you the first seventy times, Loki."
-to the mouth of a very wide river, the mouth of which opened out into the ocean. He allowed her to navigate her way along it, practising taking the corners, navigating around trees and boulders, along the river banks. Much to Loki's annoyance, Reagan devoted far too much of her attention to the sights she was passing, and he had to repeatedly remind her to focus back on her task of steering the Skiff.
Each time she had insisted that she was, in fact, concentrating.
Each time, Loki wanted to murder her just a little more so that he didn't have to watch her die in an inevitable collision.
Eventually, she slowed the vehicle as she entered a large alcove and her breath swept from her lungs. All around her the curved stone alcove which stretched high above her seemed not grey but rather purple. As she studied it, she soon realised the entire structure was formed out of amethyst. Thin sheets of water poured over the edges into the river below, and the sun reflecting over the amethyst gave the water a faint, lavender hue in the warm afternoon sun.
"Is there anywhere on this stupid planet that isn't completely, ridiculously perfect?" Reagan asked at last, sounding slightly deflated even as she settled back in her seat, gazing unblinkingly at the incredible sight before her in awe.
Loki considered the question carefully.
"I do know of one place," he'd admitted after a pause.
"You do?"
"I'd be happy to show you. Though I must warn you, it's a little underwhelming."
"Show me," she'd insisted with true enthusiasm.
And that's how she found herself now winding her way through Medina, working her way towards the one place in Asgard that wasn't entirely, impossibly, breathtakingly perfect.
She couldn't wait to see it.
Eventually, she reached a small courtyard, composed of buildings with high, sloped ceilings, many with their own individual awnings. It was far colder in this part of the city. Whereas out over the water, it had felt like a summer day, here snow layered the rooftops, though the pathways had been cleared and Reagan sensed the faintest whisper of magic there.
Alright, Loki told her at last. We're here... Why don't you go and take a look at that view?
Reagan moved over towards an overlook within the courtyard. Framed by stone archways and sturdy, hand-carved banisters was a backdrop of enormous, snowcapped mountains. The mighty peaks glistened in the sun and a frosty breeze swept from them, kissing against her cheeks. Birds soared through the gauge between the city and the mountain peaks, their size thoroughly eclipsed by the summits behind them.
A little to your left... Loki's voice sounded in her mind and she obeyed. Just a fraction more.
As she stood, taking in the view, the smell of freshly baked cakes filled her nostrils. Scents of vanilla and cinnamon and melted chocolates surrounded her. She breathed in deeply.
"I'm really failing to see what's so imperfect about this," Reagan said, not quite able to bring herself to be annoyed at the brilliant view.
This is where I first met Sygran, just beyond those doors to your right, Loki told her. These are the kitchens she used to work in.
Reagan glanced their way momentarily, before looking back towards the mountains once more as she listened to his voice.
I journeyed down these passageways, passed this view... innumerable times, and never quite managed to tire of it.
Reagan hummed softly in agreement. She doubted anyone could take in the sight before and not yearn to stand before it over and over again.
But eventually, Loki continued. I did discover one fascinating, yet crucial flaw in the structural design of this exact spot.
Reagan pulled an incredulous face at that, slightly disheartened. Perhaps he meant well, but she seriously doubted Loki pointing out a few cracks in the infrastructure would convince her this place was anything less than perfect.
Stupid, perfect Asgard.
The thing that I discovered, Loki explained, is that when you come to a stop precisely where you now stand, to take in the view at this time of day, when the kitchen hands are baking and the ovens are hot and you find yourself lost in the most decadent scents of fresh bread and cakes and sweets, something else is also occurring. You see, those ovens melt the snow settled on the roof tiles above, and-
Reagan suddenly shrieked at the top of her lungs as her whole body was dowsed in a freezing mound of half-melted snow. The air rushed from her lungs forcefully and she gasped on instinct, trying to gulp the oxygen back in as icy water cascaded down the back of her dress, in her hair, down her cleavage, relentlessly invading every crevice it could find. She stood, frozen in sheer shock as she continued to gasp for breath - her brain struggling for a moment to actually comprehend what had just happened.
- it collides with anyone unfortunate enough to be standing beneath it.
The satisfaction radiating from Loki's end of the bond was palpable.
"I... am going... to kill you," Reagan said calmly, as she attempted to clean the icy water from her face with her equally wet sleeve.
Loki's laughter rang out in her mind as icy sludge slopped from the top of her head and onto the ground at her feet with a loud splat. She slowly brought her hands up to brush the remaining sludge off her head, her chest, her shoulders, still in shock.
What's wrong? Loki asked all too innocently. I thought you said you couldn't feel the cold anymore?
"A slow and miserable death, Mischief. You mark my words."
Reagan sucked in a deep, steadying breath and concentrated. Carefully, she summoned forth her fire, not enough to actually ignite her skin but enough to heat her clothes. A misty haze of steam soon rose from her and was vaguely aware that at the moment, if anyone were to pass and see her, she'd probably look like something close to a demon.
Evidently, Loki found that thought even more amusing and his laughter rang out all the more.
"I will have revenge," she promised.
And even as she made the threat, she was mildly surprised to find his laughter catching and soon she was giggling along with the trickster even as she stood there, half-drenched, wafting a thick fog of steam.
"Reagan?"
She whipped around suddenly at the sound of her name to find a now familiar face gazing her way.
"Oh, Fandral," she said, mild embarrassment coloured her cheeks as she found herself caught by him in such a strange position and giggling to herself like a maniac.
Oh, wonderful, Loki drawled, once again thoroughly displeased to be inadvertently in the blonde man's presence.
Fandral approached her slowly, taking in the sight of her, seemingly half-drowned.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Reagan insisted. She still wore a smile even as she continued shaking excess snow from her limbs. "Just... Wrong place, wrong time."
Well, it's true enough but to say it to his face is rather rude, Loki
Stop.
"Here," Fandral offered, swiftly removing his cloak and moving to wrap it around Reagan's shoulders.
"Oh no, that's okay-"
"I insist."
The kind gesture was met with a pulse of annoyance from Loki. Reagan could feel the way he scowled. His all-too-familiar bitterness returned with full force.
Of all of the imbeciles my brother chooses to surround himself with, this one is by far the most unbearable.
You say that about all of them, Reagan reminded him patiently.
He's vain, arrogant, obnoxious-
Oh, yeah, I can't even begin to imagine what it must be like constantly interacting with someone like that, she responded sarcastically. I still just think you like to dislike people.
He's never once hidden his disdain for me, why should I do any different?
Have you considered trying to be the bigger person?
Not even once in my entire life, Loki rebutted.
Right .
Reagan turned her attention back to Fandral, doing her best to suppress her smile. She pulled his cloak tight around her shoulders and found herself longing for the thick pelt of fur she'd left at Loki's castle.
"You certainly seem to be in better spirits of late," Fandral commented. "I'd never have guessed to get you to smile all we had to do was drench you in sleet."
That did earn a small snicker from Loki; his handiwork admired in any capacity would do that, and Reagan had to force herself not to roll her eyes.
"I guess I've just had a good day," Reagan told Fandral. "I was out on the water earlier, learning to use a Skiff. It was fun."
"Oh really? Under whose tutelage?"
Loki's lip curled.
"Oh, self-taught," Reagan responded confidently.
Wha-
"I just learned through observation. It wasn't too hard."
This is an outrage. How dare you.
And though there was a jest to his words, Reagan didn't miss the small wave of genuine offence that shifted through him.
"Loki was teaching me," she relented then, poking him playfully down the link.
In her moment of slight distraction, she missed the way Fandral's demeanour shifted, missed the way he tensed.
"Oh, the two of you are on speaking terms once again?" he asked curiously.
Reagan's eyes flicked up suddenly to meet his. It wasn't until that moment that she realised she hadn't actually confided in anyone that she and Loki and she had made peace, let alone that they were sort of... kind of... friends.
"Uh, yeah," she admitted. "Yeah, we're... things are better lately."
Fandral raised an eyebrow at her.
"He's not still 'making your life a waking nightmare' as you put it?"
I beg your pardon?
Well, you were .
"You know what? It turns out that maybe he's not so bad after all," Reagan smiled gently, looking down at her feet.
She felt a begrudging brush of affection from Loki's end of the link in response.
Fandral studied her, his expression darkening.
"Just be weary of him, Reagan," Fandral warned. "Loki has a way with words. He's cunning."
Was that a compliment?
No, I don't think it was.
"If there is a way to use this- this link between the two of you to his benefit, he'll do it. Don't let him manipulate you."
The churn of discomfort Fandral's words elicited in Reagan was quickly smothered by Loki's sheer indignation.
Would you be so kind as to inform this utter turnip-
Turnip? Reagan repeated.
-that if anyone is being manipulated here, it's me ?! Forever bombarded by your ceaseless questions, preventing you from causing your own untimely demise practically on a daily basis, working as your tutor not just in magic now, but also transportation-
I have never in my life met anyone even a fraction as dramatic as you.
And this is the thanks I get.
Beside her, Fandral's features hardened as he studied her. He'd been waiting for her reaction to his words, and she'd seemed to be weighing them heavily... but then the corner of her mouth had quirked ever so slightly as if amused by something. He squinted.
"Is he... speaking to you?" he asked her at last.
Reagan's eyes met his and she hesitated. She could feel a certain darkness blooming in Loki then.
Say no, he warned.
"I- yeah, he is," she admitted.
"What's he saying?" Fandral asked, his entire demeanour had changed, and Reagan was reminded that the man before her was a seasoned warrior. It was easy to forget when he usually had such a light and playful air to him.
"Oh, nothing worth repeating," she assured him. "He mostly just pokes a little fun about whatever's going on with Thor and the others. It's harmless."
Fandral's jaw twitched.
"You mean to say he's been listening?" Fandral in a low voice. "To all our conversations that you've been present for."
Lie to him. Loki said, his tone had shifted
Reagan hesitated, uncomfortable with being dishonest. Fandral had been nothing but kind to her. She didn't want to tell him lies.
"I suppose so..."
Reagan...
"Sometimes he blocks me out, but other times- it's complicated."
"So he's hearing everything. You've just been allowing him to listen in."
"He hasn't really had a choice," Reagan said, feeling defensive now. Not just of herself, but of Loki too. "This link is complicated, and I've never had to practice protecting my own mind before. It's not like there's a switch I can just turn on and off. But Loki's been helping - he's teaching me to block him out. He gives me privacy whenever I ask for it."
"Or so he tells you that's what he's doing," Fandral muttered.
Reagan raised her eyebrows at him and Fandral let out a slow, steadying breath clocking her obvious offence at the suggestion.
"He is using you, Reagan," he told her adamantly. "For one reason or another, he is using you. You cannot trust him. No one can. He holds nothing in his heart but malice, the rest of us had to learn it the hard way. But you can spare yourself that lesson."
"He's not-"
"He is using you," Fandral repeated. "Do not be another one of his victims. Don't fall for his tricks."
Reagan didn't respond - she couldn't. She was at a total loss for what to say. Fandral, determining that he wouldn't get any further with her just shook his head slightly before offering a short farewell.
Reagan watched as the blonde man turned and took his leave, her heartbeat quickened as a new heaviness fell between her and Loki. She wished he hadn't heard any of that. She wished she could undo the bitterness bubbling - unfurling - at his end of the bond.
Loki... you know I don't-
It's probably for the best that we return to your lessons.
Reagan's heart sank. It had been weeks since either of them had made any mention of her shields.
Loki-
Sometimes a break from mental exercises can be beneficial to overall progress but I feel now we've avoided them long enough. We'll recommence in the morning.
Loki, wait-
But before she could finish, icy shields came down between them once more. She didn't attempt to reach out for him again, she knew it would be useless. He'd need time to cool off. Anything she said now would likely only cause further damage. An unexpected tightness gripped Reagan's throat and she pulled Fandral's cloak tighter around herself, trying to fight off a chill that she feared had nothing to do with her damp clothing.
Chapter 15: Chapter 15
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Loki didn't come for her the next day, nor did he lower his shields. Reagan wasn't surprised really, she knew what Fandral had said had stung him. What did surprise her though was that she found herself... waiting for him. The moment she'd awoken that morning to find that the all-too-familiar wall still remained resolutely in place disappointment had settled deep in the pit of her stomach. As she readied herself for the day, she caught herself several times opening her mouth to say something to him.
It was rather confronting to realise how comfortable she'd become with his presence in her mind when not so long ago she had fought back against it with everything she had in her.
And more so than that, as much as she might try to deny it, the truth was that she liked his company.
As the morning passed, Fandral's warning looped over in her mind again and again, as if it were some annoying song she'd managed to get stuck in her head. She supposed it would be stupid of her not to take some caution from his words. After all, Loki had been the person she trusted least in the whole universe until only a few months earlier. But now? She replayed her interactions with him over in her mind. She picked each of them apart, almost obsessively, looking for any minor detail - a word, a look, a gesture - something that she might have missed to suggest he was interacting with her with some ulterior motive.
And she started doing this not only with her time she'd spent with Loki, but also her time with Fandral and the others. He'd seemed so repulsed by the idea of Loki listening in. But what harm could it possibly do? Loki was to remain locked away for all eternity. What did it matter what he heard? Reagan tried her best to be reasonable; reminding herself how violated she'd first felt when the bond had forged and Loki was able to listen in to everything she said, everything she thought. It was only fair that Fandral would be concerned, learning this information.
She dreaded to think about how the others might have reacted when Fandral inevitably informed them. If she thought Sif disliked her before... Reagan shivered. It was probably for the best if she just avoided them altogether, at least for a little while.
She came to the conclusion that it was best if she just remained in her chambers for the day - perhaps even a few days. She was in no hurry to interact with any of Thor's friends after yesterday, and if Loki did happen to lower his shields, however unlikely that might be, she wanted to be able to talk freely with him. To tell him...
To tell him what exactly? She wasn't sure.
She didn't really think there was anything she could say to undo the damage Fandral's words had done. Was she supposed to tell Loki that she did, in fact, trust him? She chewed at her lip. It wasn't necessarily true. And Loki would know that. Undeniably, their dynamic had shifted since their bond had first snapped into place. And she'd been more surprised than anyone when she'd found herself becoming somewhat fond of him. But trust? That was another thing entirely. And Fandral was right, Loki was cunning. He'd had access to her mind for months now. That was more than enough time for him to figure out how best to manipulate her.
He was, after all, still the malicious God who had invaded the Earth with all his hatred and fury. Leading an army that killed and destroyed. Who wanted to conquer and oppress all of mankind.
But then he was also... Loki. Loki, who liked it when they teased each other and was delighted by pranks. Loki, who would make jokes and tell stories and distract her in moments when she grew homesick or felt out of place. Loki, who had books brought from Midgard at the risk of his own pride just to make her happy. Loki, who - since they had come to their truce - had never acted in any way other than to protect her best interests...
It was hard to reconcile the two.
Reagan rubbed at her face in frustration. She battled with the idea of just phasing into his cell and getting whatever confrontation would follow over and done with. She felt like a rubber band was pulled tight somewhere inside her and just seeing him - getting to talking to him about it - would either loose that tension or snap it entirely. And either way, it would be a relief.
She thought better of it. Loki could be temperamental, after all. Turning up unannounced when he clearly wanted to be left alone, just to discuss the very thing he was pointedly avoiding? It didn't seem like a good idea. He needed space. It was only fair that she give it to him.
A knock sounded at her door, stirring her from her thoughts. Dread curled deep in her stomach. No one ever visited her here in her chambers. She immediately envisioned Fandral standing on the other side of the door, ready to accuse her of more espionage. She trudged her way over to the door, cursing all of Asgard for her lack of a peephole on her chamber door. She braced herself as she opened it.
Reagan breathed a huge sigh of relief as she found herself face to face with a woman in maid's attire.
"Malin," she said happily. "It's nice to see you."
"And you as well my lady," Malin said with a tight smile.
Malin had made a habit of making herself scarce whenever Reagan was in her chambers. Evidently, the rumours about her and Loki had been enough to steer the woman away. Where she had at first been kind and conversational, helping Reagan to navigate the workings of Asgard in her first few weeks there, she now made sure to get any duties done when Reagan was conveniently away. If she had to help Reagan with any clothing - sewing new sleeves on for her for example - she did so with polite, yet clipped replies, and mistrustful glances toward the mark whenever it was exposed, as if the thing might bite her.
Loki had made a point of distracting her in those moments, saying something unkind about the maid just to get a rise out of Reagan. She would chide him, and the pair would begin to squabble, and she'd forget all about the maid's distrust in her. She hadn't recognised it for what it was until the fourth or fifth time he had done it.
"I have a gift for you," Malin told her, holding up a large, flat box. "From the Prince."
"From Loki?" Reagan asked, sounding surprised.
"From Prince Thor, my lady..."
"Oh," Reagan said quickly. "Right. Of course. That makes a lot more sense. Thank you."
She offered the maid a smile which Malin unconvincingly returned. She held the box out a little more, indicating for Reagan to take it. She did.
The other woman bowed her head curtly before heading off in the opposite direction before Reagan had even managed to close the door. Reagan carried the box over to her bed and set it down before lifting the lid to find a dress. It was black with muted gold finishings. Folded to fit the shape of the box. A short note rested on top of it.
Dearest Reagan,
As promised - garments fit for a wielder of flames. These leathers have been tested to withstand the heat of a sun. I do hope they shall be to your liking.
- Thor, God of Thunder
Reagan giggled a little at the way he'd signed his name, finding it rather sweet. She suddenly realised that she'd been waiting for Loki's reaction - undoubtedly scathing - and wondered how long she had been doing that; integrating him into every situation she found herself in. Making space for him.
She pushed the thought away and pulled the suit out of the box, holding it up to inspect it.
Leather seemed to be the wrong word for it. There weren't any leathers on Earth that felt anything like this. The fabric was soft to the touch, pliant, though if it were true that it could withstand her flames, it must have been incredibly durable.
Experimentally, she set alight a single finger and ran it gingerly over the fabric before quelling the fire and inspecting it again. It left no mark. She raced to try it on.
Reagan stared at herself in the mirror for a long time, taking in the sight before her. The dress was long-sleeved, as had become her trademark, reaching past her wrists at the back of her hands, and ending in a point at her knuckles. The neckline was prism-shaped, cutting into a dip at the peak of her cleavage. A muted gold accent ran parallel along the neckline dipping into points at her shoulders. The dress clung tight to her torso, fitting perfectly to her figure, accentuating her curves and completed with a dramatic high-low hem, that showed her legs from mid-thighs as she moved while also billowing behind her.
As she gazed at her reflection, Reagan couldn't help but think it looked nothing like the clothes worn by the Asgardian common people, nor the garments donned by their warriors. She wondered if Thor had instructed the seamstress who made it for her to take inspiration from Midgard. If he had, she appreciated him for that. But even so, there was something about it that didn't sit right with her. She didn't look... like herself. It dawned on her then that she felt a little like she was playing dress-up, filling boots that were too big for her.
She felt vaguely ridiculous.
She bit her lip hesitantly for a few moments, there was one person she could ask who would tell her the truth. And all too conveniently, it was a way to make contact without having to make mention of the thing they both desperately wanted to avoid.
Against her better judgement, she closed her eyes and projected her image into a cell beneath Asgard.
Loki sat beneath the maddening lights of his cell staring into space. There was no other word for it, he was brooding. He knew it. Anyone who might pass his cell would know it. And even with his shields firmly in place, Reagan likely knew it too.
Fandral.
Loki scowled at the very thought of him.
With all his morality and virtue.
He likely thought himself such a valiant hero as he warded Reagan away from the treacherous thing locked away beneath the golden city. As if he had any claim to do so.
Was it not enough that Loki was to be locked away for the rest of his days? Was it not enough that Thor had bested him? Again. That his own father would have put him to the axe if Frigga hadn't protested it? He'd lost his title. His freedom. Even his power was confined to this infernal cell. He had nothing left.
Was fate so cruel that he truly had to also be denied...
Loki cut the thought short.
He was under no illusion that he'd ever be able to have what past bearers of the mark had possessed.
But he and Reagan, they had been forming... something. Whatever little it may have been, it was vastly more than he'd ever hoped to expect.
He was no fool. He was all too aware that word would have spread like wildfire throughout Asgard when Reagan, the first bearer of the mark in millennia, had made her resentment for him so openly known when she had first arrived here. He could hardly blame her that, after all, he'd held nothing but disdain for the bond when it had first been forged. He hadn't allowed himself to see it as anything more than a curse - a final cruel joke from the universe. Again and again, he'd only made things worse between the two of them. Tormenting her at every step. Adding to her misery. Whenever she had attempted to offer peace, he had ruined it. Because was that not the inevitable?
And yet, each time she'd found her way back to him in one way or another. And whether intentional or otherwise, in a way that Loki himself didn't even understand, she had managed to find a way to slink past all his rage and loathing and brought out something in him he'd long since forgotten was there and reminded him he was more than just his bitterness.
And so maybe he'd allowed some small secret part of him to indulge in a few moments of hope.
When she had chosen Jotunheim of all the stars in the night sky.
When she had told him you've grown on me too.
When she'd started to spend every spare moment she could, talking to him, teasing him, laughing with him- liking him.
But Fandral learning this had found it absolutely unacceptable - regardless of what that sacred mark they shared was supposed to have meant - and had taken it upon himself to put a stop to it.
Because to Fandral the Dashing, with all his light and all his virtue, Loki was nothing more than a monster.
And now Reagan had been reminded of that too. And so too had Loki himself. And his brief reprieve from self-loathing had come to a jarring end. And so, Loki had shut her out.
Because at that moment, he'd felt her desire to protest, but he'd also felt the very real whisper of doubt in her. He didn't want to have to watch that grow -to witness as it twisted into something ugly. It was better to just go. To cut the tie short and let that be the end of it.
He'd forgotten himself. Bored and alone in the cell he would rot in, he'd allowed himself to get caught up in the only form of amusement he was privy to - the mortal. That was all it was. Nothing more. It was a mistake. And worse still, he'd showed his hand - she'd seen the weakness in him - that try as he might to deny it, she'd endeared herself to him, seemingly against his will.
He'd let it all go too far. Get out of hand.
He cursed himself for his own weakness. He would not make that mistake again. From here on out, he was determined to keep his distance.
And yet when her voice sounded behind him, he closed his eyes fleetingly in response, not entirely sure if it was dread or relief that bloomed in his chest. And quickly - so very quickly - he felt his resolution crumble.
"I'm looking for brutal honesty here," she said.
He refused to acknowledge the warmth those words elicited in him, denied the way the corner of his mouth wanted to quirk into a smile.
"Well, you've come to the right person," he drawled without looking her way.
He hadn't expected her to come to him today. He was so certain she'd see reason in Fandral's warning and keep her distance. Perhaps he'd thought too much of her and in the end, she was just another fool. Like the rest of them. He had, after all, come to learn how lacking her self-preservation skills seemed to be.
"Do I look stupid in this?" she asked.
Loki's brow creased in momentary confusion before he turned to take a look at her. He froze.
Stupid was the last word he would use to describe her.
She'd been adorned in the typical Asgardian style of draping fabrics for so long now that to turn and suddenly see the way the dress she wore clung to her curves, the way such a dramatic length of her legs were on display, it seemed almost unfair that she hadn't given him fair warning. The neckline, which accented the curve of her throat and the line of her clavicles, plunged in a way that drew his eye sinfully towards the swell of her breasts as if against his own will.
Even after months spent in Asgard, she hadn't taken to styling her hair in the intricately braided buns worn by most Asgardian women. Instead, she wore it out in its natural waves or tied it back in a simple style. Or occasionally, when alone in her chambers or in his cell, in a ridiculous messy pile on the top of her head that she refused to take any criticism for despite Loki's best efforts. But for now, her hair fell naturally around her shoulders. Loki was loathe to admit that he liked it best that way.
In truth, she was a vision.
Loki recognised the leathers she had donned - knew them to be fireproof. And he couldn't help but imagine she'd be an ethereal sight to behold, clad Asgardian tailoring, her whole body set aflame, her hair whipping around her wildly as she summoned fort the power within her as he'd seen it, atop Stark Tower when he'd brought the Chitauri to destroy them all.
He turned his head away.
"Well, you'll certainly fit in better with your merry band of do-gooders when you return to Midgard," he said offhandedly, willing himself not to look at her again. "Where'd you get it?"
"Thor had it made for me," she said as she hand her hand over her waist as if trying to smooth the fabric into place. Loki bit down on a snarl, managing a clenched jaw in its place instead. "He thinks these leathers might be able to withstand my flames better than the stuff I trialled back home."
"And?"
"I haven't tested it out yet," Reagan admitted. "Honestly, I'm a little embarrassed to leave my room looking like this. I mean, it's a little much, isn't it? It doesn't feel like... I don't know, I just don't know if it fits."
As Loki strained to keep his eyes from wandering to greedily roam her figure once more it was more than safe to say he whole-heartedly disagreed.
"You haven't anything to worry about," Loki assured her, in his best attempt to sound disinterested.
"Are you sure?" She looked down at herself again. "Don't you think it's a little too... busty?"
From the corner of his eye, Loki saw as Reagan took hold of her breasts and pushed them together experimentally before letting go and placing her hands on her hips as she continued to stare down at herself. An unexpected wave of heat suddenly clawed its way up his neck.
"Well, if you're going to stand there fondling yourself then perhaps you're right not to leave your chambers."
Reagan snorted a little.
"I probably shouldn't be so worried," she mused. "If this leather doesn't hold up, a little cleavage is going to be the least of my problems."
"Yes, I remember the exciting little display you once put on for our dear Halvor."
Reagan laughed.
"Oh yeah, good thing you Asgardians are all so fond of capes so I had something to cover up with," she said. "Actually, I still have Fandral's. I'd better bring it with me in case my test run goes terribly, terribly wrong."
The moment she spoke his name a strange tension seemed to settle between them. The change was palpable. Loki willed away the coil in his stomach, hoping she hadn't seen the way his shoulders tensed. He could usually mask himself so effortlessly. Hide any sign of emotion, of worry, of fear. What was it about this infernal little mortal that made that simple task such an undertaking?
He silently blamed the mark. There was something about its magic that forced down his defences and left him vulnerable in a way he'd never normally allow himself to be. He needed to be more vigilant.
If Reagan had noticed the way he tensed, evidently she decided to ignore it and press on, to pretend everything was fine. She made her way over to his bed and sat down, facing him now, one leg crossed over the other, her hem riding a little higher up her thigh. Loki determined as she leaned forwards slightly that yes; the suit was decidedly far too busty and he couldn't stop himself from wondering vaguely how that leather, supposedly able to withstand all manner of flames, might fare against his teeth.
"Where do you think I should go?" Reagan asked, mercifully interrupting the train of thought. "Are there any fire-proof rooms in the palace?"
"I don't know about that but there are some old sparring fields that are scarcely used anymore."
"Nothing I can burn to the ground?"
"It's mostly sand and stone."
"Okay, so maybe I'll just end up making some weird glass artwork. I can give it to Thor as a thank-you gift."
Loki rolled his tongue over his teeth. He couldn't decide who he least enjoyed her casual mention of - Fandral or his fool brother.
"Are you going to come with me or are you still ignoring me?" Reagan asked, at last, tapping her finger to her temple. "Because, honestly, I'd appreciate the moral support if I do have to repeat performance and have to make a dash for my room butt naked."
Loki smirked at her.
"Have you not considered just taking another change of clothing with you just as a precaution?"
Reagan pursed her lips together, amused.
"See? This is why I need you."
He sorely wished he could resent her for her choice of phrasing, especially with the infuriatingly sweet smile she shot his way. But all that smile did was solidify the innocence of her words.
Loki hesitated for a few moments but then relented and lowered his shields around the outskirts of his mind. He hated that he didn't quite hate the way she grinned in response. As he lowered his shields and allowed the bond to reform, he thought for a moment that he felt the faintest whisper of relief swirl around her before she tucked it away, somewhere hidden from him.
And so he let her in. Learning nothing from the lessons fate had dealt him time and time again before. Because it made her smile.
He did, however, keep a secret corner of his mind locked away from her - the corner where he'd allow himself to loathe Fandral with such intensity it would scandalise anyone else who even happened to glimpse it. Where he bred his contempt for his father, for Thor. Where all his darkness could writhe and surge and manifest.
And also...
Where he stored his hope. Where he tried so desperately to smother it. To destroy it. And sometimes - just sometimes - allowed himself a few fleeting seconds where he indulged it. And then resented himself for it. Because in a way, his hope was the ugliest thing that he possessed.
And then Loki felt her allow him to settle back into the bond in turn, and it felt like light. It felt like it fit. It felt like- until, ebbing at the edges of her mind he noticed something he had not before. It appeared that Reagan had her own little door which she'd locked away from him, a shield she now held in place where before she'd seen no need for it. Bitterness filled him. So, Fandral's words had had some effect on her after all. The vicious urge arose in him to break down her newly established barriers and discover just what she'd deemed him unworthy of seeing but he quelled it quickly. Suffocated the want. Swore a silent oath he'd never violate her that way. He'd been spoilt, able to read her - anticipate her - for so long, unimpeded. He'd taught her to guard herself for this exact reason - simply, so that she could. He wouldn't take that from her. Even if he craved to know what she wanted to keep secret. And more so, he reprimanded himself, she had every right to her private thoughts. He wanted that for her. It was part of why he insisted on continuing their lessons, even if it meant her keeping him out too.
This ugly want, to peek beyond, to know more - he knew it was all born of the ugly truth - knowledge that, despite what the marks might mean, he could never have...
As the shields fell away completely, Reagan's voice interrupted his train of thought.
Hi, she said happily inside his mind even as she still sat opposite him, looking directly at him.
In spite of himself Loki couldn't help but to smile.
Hello there.
"Alright," Reagan said as she stood from her spot on his bed, her projection fading away before his very eyes before he heard her voice once more. Lead the way.
As Loki guided Reagan through Asgard towards the old sparring fields, the pair chatted idly as they normally would. They teased and tormented one another. Made jokes. Commented on things Reagan passed by. As if everything had once again returned to normal.
Well, almost.
There was still a palpable tension between them and though neither of them acknowledged it, Reagan knew they both felt it. She didn't know how to undo it, so instead she endeavoured to ignore it. And to do so, she did the thing she'd learned worked best with Loki, and goaded him into a conversation about something completely unimportant which would no doubt lead to him being both insanely overly invested and, at the same time, completely and utterly annoyed.
"I guess if this works I'm going to have to come up with a superhero name, huh?" she said.
And why is that?
"Well, if I want to be on the team it can't be Captain America, Iron Man and... Reagan. That sounds so stupid."
That's because you were speaking.
Rather than being offended, Reagan let out a short, somewhat delighted giggle.
"No but for real, what do you think of Flamestrike?"
It's a little generic. Surely, you can do better.
"Okay, that's fair. Heatwave Heroine?"
I truly hope you're joking. That is the most god-awful thing I've ever heard.
"Hmmm... The Scorching Sorceress. Oh! Or what about just The Scorcher?"
You are... incomprehensively bad at this.
"Just give me a second, would you? This is what brainstorming is all about, you get the bad ideas out of the way so the good ones have room to shine... What rhymes with fire?"
What rhymes with fire? Loki repeated in utter disbelief.
"Listen, are you going to help with this or-"
I am not, Loki assured her adamantly. If this is any indication of the quality of what you're going to produce as an end result, I want absolutely no affiliation with it.
"You say that now, but just you wait until I come up with a good one. You'll change your mind then."
Alright, but do try to remember I only have about 5,000 years for that to happen before I pass on to Valhalla.
Reagan soon reached the old sparring fields and was delighted to find them totally abandoned. The fields were far less impressive than the ones she had visited with Thor and Fandral. The stonework here was far simpler. It looked unfinished, in fact. Unfit for the might of Asgard's warriors.
"This is perfect," she was happy to report as she took in the abandoned grounds.
A few tufts of grass burned here and there but nothing that could be catching - nothing that could cause her flames to spread. The open sky stretched out above her, with no trees in sight. Nothing hanging overhead. Not even wooden balustrades.
It was safe.
Reagan walked into the middle of the empty sand field, flexing her fingers nervously. It had been quite some time since she'd last summoned forth her powers in full force. Anxiety was rapidly beginning to churn within her gut.
Well then, shall we see what you're made of? Loki's voice sounded in her mind.
She swallowed against the fear. The anxiety. The threatening panic.
"Alright," Reagan murmured. "Here goes nothing."
She breathed in deeply as she summoned forth her fire. It had been so long since she'd done this, fully released her energy, and allowed herself to be dowsed in flames.
It was freeing.
Natural.
An honest relief.
She closed her eyes and allowed herself to bask in the sensation of letting her powers loose.
It could be a burden, suppressing it all, at times. One that she had come to live with as commonplace. One that she wouldn't trade for the alternative by any means. Her constant control meant that she wouldn't hurt anyone else again. That strain, the burden - so be it, if it meant that she didn't cause more destruction... decimation...
That thought spurred her to open her eyes, looking down at herself to inspect how her new garments were holding up. And she was pleasantly surprised to find they were holding fast as if the flames weren't even there. Relief washed through her.
She allowed herself then to unleash a little more energy, burned a little brighter. Allowed her flames to climb towards the heavens.
Hotter.
Hotter.
Hotter.
Through her flames, she could see the air around her shift and ripple with heat waves.
The small tufts of grass which had pushed their way through the stones around her burst into flames and then disintegrated into nothing in a matter of seconds.
Reagan allowed another pulse of energy to burst forth from her again. Her flames grew higher. Scorching. Surging. Thriving.
She was all consumed.
She was free.
The sand beneath her feet began to turn molten.
And still, the leathers held strong.
Just as the flames billowing at the core of her chest began to shift to blue, Reagan sucked in a deep breath and quelled her flames entirely.
She stood for a few moments catching her breath, gathering herself, as she once again assured herself that she was in control of her powers.
Why did you do that? Loki asked as the last of her flames dispelled.
"Do what?"
You're holding yourself back, Loki accused. Why not push further? Show me what you're truly capable of, mortal.
Reagan stilled, her stomach plummeting in response to his words. Where she'd come to think of Loki calling her mortal as some kind of begrudging term of affection, this time it made her feel small. She tried to ignore the strange pang in her chest.
"I can't do that," she told him uncomfortably. "It's not safe."
There's no need to worry, there's no one around-
"We don't know that for sure," she answered defensively as she fought against the unease she felt looming like a shadow. "Th-there could be someone nearby, or if something catches and the flames get out of hand I-"
Then just quell them. What's the problem?
"I can't," Reagan said, uncomfortable, ashamed. She wrapped her arms around herself, hating how exposed she suddenly felt. As though she'd somehow allowed Loki to cut her open.
"I can't... control the flames," she admitted, her voice small. "It doesn't work that way. I can only make them grow, force them out, you know? I can't stop them from spreading or put them out or-"
Of course, you can, Loki responded rather dismissively.
"No, I can't," Reagan repeated, this time through gritted teeth. She willed herself to remain calm but her heart rate was beginning to quicken.
But I've seen you do it before-
"Loki, would you just back off," she snapped then. "I can't do it... Alright?"
She felt the way Loki recoiled slightly, surprised at her sudden aggression. It had been a long time since she'd spoken to him like that. She felt it. The way she stung him - the uncertainty that settled over him where she usually felt an air of confidence so powerful it verged on arrogance.
She loosed a breath.
"I'm sorry," she told him quickly. "It's just- It's not exactly easy for me to talk about this... I hate that all I can do is- ruin things. Destroy them. I burn things down until they're gone. It's-"
Saying the words out loud caused her eyes to sting with the sudden threat of tears. She blinked stubbornly, willing them away. She didn't want him to see this, this weakness of hers.
Forgive me, Loki told her gently. It wasn't my intention to upset you.
Reagan just nodded, not quite able to speak as she fought against the tightness gripping her throat, as she desperately tried to calm herself.
For what it's worth, I think you're wrong. Loki continued carefully. You don't just destroy. You saved a great many people in New York.
Reagan allowed herself a small, sad laugh. It came out as a rather pathetic noise - wet with emotion.
"I didn't save anyone, Loki, I just killed things... I was only there because I could decimate a threat. If it had been anything else - any other scenario - I wouldn't have been of any use. They wouldn't have even thought of me. All I can do is... Damage. Ever since this happened to me. It's all I'm good for."
Her heart gave a painful throb. She spent so much of her time fighting so hard against these feelings - these fears. She hated it - hated it - when they managed to fight their way to the surface.
Reagan... You can't believe that.
She shook her head, somewhere between frustration and hopelessness. He didn't get it. God, she wanted him to understand.
"If I have a nightmare, I wake up panicking that I might be burning my apartment building down. If someone startles me, I have this visceral moment where I pray that I haven't hurt them... That first day that I woke up on fire when I walked into that town looking for help... I burned children. I burned one man so severely that he can't even turn his head or else his skin will tear. I hate it... I hate it."
I'm sorry. I didn't realise...
Being here, around all these people who are stronger than me. It's been a relief. I haven't had to worry about killing anyone accidentally.
You know, you're more in control than you realise.
"I'm not." She practically whimpered the words. "I'm really, really not."
Reagan, I promise you, you are.
"I'm not, Loki... Do you have any idea what it feels like to be afraid of yourself?"
I... Loki trailed off, apparently unsure of what to say.
His lack of response was all the confirmation she needed. Her heart sank.
Perhaps that's enough for today. His voice was gentle and sincere. You should go and get some rest... You did well. I hope you know I truly mean that.
Reagan nodded, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.
Dejectedly she turned to leave but then stilled, hesitant, turning back as if she expected to find him standing there beside her watching her.
"What did you mean?" she asked in a small voice. "When you said you'd seen me do it before..."
Perhaps we should discuss it another time.
"Loki," she insisted. "What did you mean?"
He let out a defeated sigh.
When you visited my castle. And you discovered the evermore candles. You took those flames up, let them combine with your own and then extinguished them.
"Yeah."
That wouldn't be possible if you weren't capable of controlling the fire.
Reagan furrowed her brow. She knew exactly what he was referring to. It was something she had done countless times. She could accept the fire as a part of her own - it couldn't harm her, she was no longer susceptible to its damaging force and so she could take up the flames. But that wasn't the same. It didn't mean-
"No..." she said evenly. "I-I've tried for years to get a handle on it. I've tried to suppress them. To force them down or... or destroy them. It doesn't work."
Of course, you can't destroy them, that's not how magic works. Flames are energy. But they're a wavelength that you are compatible with. Reagan, you're made of fire. You can bend it to your will. It's not about destroying or bringing ruin. That is not who you are. You know that.
Her heart clenched and fresh tears began to form in her eyes.
This isn't your fault. You were trained by mortals who had no more idea than you did about how Asgardian magic works. It was never about suppressing your fire, it was about accepting it as your own so that it could accept you in turn.
Reagan battled desperately against the lump that settled resolutely within her throat.
"Tell me how," she managed, almost as though she were afraid of the answer.
Perhaps we should leave it for a time when you're-
"Loki," she said softly, pleadingly. "Please, tell me how."
She felt the way he wanted to protest - to insist they drop the matter - but soon she felt the way he surrendered too. And almost unconsciously she stretched towards him up the bond, as if waiting to drink his answers in.
Stop treating your own strength as your enemy. You are forged of flames, Reagan. You are their master. I know that you fear them. But you needn't. Stop trying to fight them. Accept them as a part of you. You don't need to push back against them or destroy them or suppress them. Instead, call them back to you, draw them in. Welcome them. Magic is complex, but at its basis, it is about being sure of your own capabilities. Once you stop fighting against your power, it will bend to you.
Reagan's nostrils flared as she fought to keep herself calm, steady. Of all the things she had learned about Loki, there was one thing she was certain of; he was a patient and reliable teacher. If this is what he wanted her to do, if he was sure, then he was right.
"Okay," she said, breathing in a steadying breath. "Tell me what to do."
That grass over there. Set it alight.
Reagan turned to see a tuft of grass that she had not yet incinerated. She moved toward it slowly, kneeling down before it slowly before she set her hand aflame and settled her fire into the grass until it too was burning.
That is your fire, Reagan, Loki told her gently, as she stared unblinking into the dancing flames. It is yours. You control it. It is not something that you need to suppress or destroy. Just be steady. Be calm. You don't need to fight it, just summon it back to you. Remind the flame that it is yours. Command it to return to where it belongs.
Reagan reached out with trembling fingers and allowed her hand to hover just above the peak of the flame.
So many times she had tried to will them out of existence.
So many times she had cursed them. Hated them.
So many times she had been afraid.
This time, she called them home.
Her lips parted and her brows pinched together as she watched, unblinking, as the fire began to bend to her. It curled its way towards her fingers as if to furl around her. As soon as the flames licked against her fingertips a jolt of pure energy surged through her-
She pulled away almost violently and shot to her feet, staggering back as her heart began thundering in her chest.
"I have to go," Reagan managed to breathe.
Loki paused, confused.
What?
"I have to go," she said, a little more firmly.
She brought her foot down on the tuff of burning grass, hastily stamping the flames out. Her heart raced and some strange panic was blooming in her chest causing her breathing to shallow out, into erratic huffs. Loki felt it as it rose within her, not understanding it at all. He reached for her down the bond, attempting to calm the energy threatening to overwhelm her.
Reagan, what's-
She didn't hear the rest. With all her might she set the shields in her mind in place, forcing him out and turning on her heel to hurry away from the fire-tarnished sparring grounds, willing herself to calm down.
"Reagan, what's wrong? Tell me what-"
As an onyx wall slammed down, locking Loki out of her mind, he stood in affronted silence for a moment at an utter loss for what had just happened, before his features twisted into a scowl. He'd been trying to help her, so for her to just reject that- to discard him like that-
He wasn't really sure why he'd expected any different.
Had he truly been fool enough to think that she might-
He didn't even understand what he'd done wrong.
Almost involuntarily, as if licking at an ulcer, Loki brushed against her shield again. Fresh anguish rushed through him at the fact that now her shields were finally taking a more adequate form. He could barely feel her presence behind them now.
Loki stilled.
No, that wasn't exactly true. It was harder... but she was there and she was... in pain.
Loki unconsciously turned towards the direction of the bond, brushing carefully against the impossibly black barrier she'd set into place with a little more care. Behind it was a storm, raging, like nothing he'd ever sensed in her before.
What had he done to illicit such a reaction?
His stomach twisted almost painfully. Had he said something to confirm her suspicions of him after all?
Loki settled back in the nearest chair, his chest heavy with guilt and frustration and something he didn't quite know what to do with.
And he watched her storm rage on, helpless to do anything about it.
Notes:
So, fun fact I learned about myself writing this chapter: I can not for the life of me describe clothes. Like at all. So if you think our girl's new super-suit sounds ugly, me too! And I'm sorry. But I tired my best and that's just what we're all stuck with now. Just know that in my head, it looks great and I don't mind if you imagine something else entirely, I just needed her to have clothes that didn't get incinerated whenever she's on fire.
Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate you all. If you leave reviews, I wish you good fortune and comfortable socks, and toast that is always the exact right amount of toastiness <3
Chapter 16
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
*Trigger warning* Severe burns are graphically described in the first section of this chapter. You can skip it by scrolling to the first break and will still be able to follow what's going on.
"You don't have to do this."
"Yeah, I do."
"I'm just going to say it one more time," Natasha insisted. "I think this is a really bad idea."
Ignoring her warning, Reagan's hand shot across the cool metal table between them and she stubbornly snatched up the pile of folders Nat had carried into the room just moments earlier. She'd been at SHIELD for a few weeks now, working tirelessly to try and gain a better control of her newfound powers. In those weeks she worked herself into exhaustion, to the point that the people monitoring her actually had to keep a constant track of her vitals and intermittently step in when it was time to take a break.
The people of SHIELD who were not directly involved with the team supervising her avoided her like the plague, it was very common knowledge that this young woman could burst into flame at any given moment with control over it. She was a liability. A ticking time bomb. No, worse, she was a landmine - primed to decimate everything around her with just the gentlest prod. She had no problem with being avoided - the fewer people that were around her, the lower the chances of her hurting anyone. There was an unexpected exception to the rule, of course, in the form of Natasha Romanov (and by extension, Clint Barton) who was strangely protective of SHIELD's new pyromancer. A withering glare from the redhead was more than enough to silence any whispers in Reagan's immediate or even extended vicinity.
Not that the whispers mattered much - a few rumours were nothing compared to the real trauma she had endured. Reagan had been a shell of herself in those first few weeks after SHIELD had found her in Norway. She couldn't sleep. She barely ate. She functioned as if in a trance, just going through the motions. Being led. Being told what to do. Obeying orders.
She'd let them run every test imaginable. Blood test after blood test. Every scan they had access to. Biopsies. Physical assessments. Even a lumbar puncture. She'd let them poke and prod and experiment. She'd followed every instruction, every request to the letter. Not once did she protest.
She'd had only one request in return - a request which had been knocked back time and time again.
The psych she was being forced to see three times a week advised strongly against it.
Nick Fury refused to even entertain the idea.
Natasha had been extremely vocal about how against it she was.
But ultimately, when Reagan had refused to drop the subject it had been Natasha who had stolen the files for her.
Reagan pulled those very files closer towards her now but didn't move to open them. Her hands were trembling and her throat was seizing almost painfully, attempting to hold back an onslaught of emotion. She needed to see. She needed to. But now, with that information sitting in front of her, resting just beneath her fingertips, even taking a glance inside seemed next to impossible.
Natasha studied her. It was obvious at that moment she wanted to chide her, but instead loosed a sigh and softened just a little - as much as Natasha Romanov ever allowed herself to soften.
"Reagan... torturing yourself by looking at any of this isn't going to-"
Her sentence was cut short as Reagan let out a bitter laugh.
Torturing herself. She'd been doing more than enough of that. Ever since she'd been cleared for release from the med-wing she'd spent her days doing whatever it was that the SHIELD scientists had asked over her to learn to control her new powers. Her nights, she'd spent them learning about burns.
Radiation burns from exposure to things such as ultraviolet rays or gamma rays. Chemical burns from acids or alkali. Electrical burns caused by live wires.
And then, of course, her burns - thermal burns. Burns caused by heat sources that raised the temperature of the tissues in the body resulting in cell death. She'd learned that in some instances her burns had caused the liquid inside of cells to boil until the cell walls exploded. The more merciful option, though still agonising. But in others - the worse ones - her burns had caused the protein inside the cells to cook like an egg on a pan so that they could no longer metabolise or exchange oxygen, leaving those cells to die slowly. Excruciatingly. Her burns had caused excruciating pain. Her burns had been inescapable agony until some nerve endings had been burned away and there was no pain left to feel.
She'd held her palm over the heat of a lit stovetop when she'd read about that, promising herself she wouldn't move. If she had to scream so be it. If her hand blackened and charred and curled into a useless mess of ruined flesh, so be it. She'd suffer what those people had suffered.
But the flames did not bite her. They didn't sear her flesh or peel away her skin. Rather, the fire had lapped against her, almost lovingly. She loathed the feeling. Loathed that it felt... good.
She shuddered at the very thought of it.
"Reagan," Nat said once more, stirring her from the thought. "You don't have to do this."
Reagan tried to look at her but she couldn't quite bring herself to tear her eyes from the closed files before her. They seemed to stare back at her, daring her to have to audacity to walk away from them. To bury her head in the sand. To forget. To pretend she wasn't a monster.
"You don't have to stay," Reagan murmured at last. It was going to be ugly. They both knew it.
Natasha sighed slowly in defeat and settled back in her chair. She shook her head a little.
"If you're really going through with it, then you're not doing it on your own."
Reagan ducked her chin, wishing she had it in her to be thankful.
Slowly, after what felt like an eternity Reagan took up the first file and forced herself to look inside.
Patient name: Fredrik Johannsen
Age: 48
Diagnosis: 3rd-degree burns affecting right limb, chest and upper back. Approx. 35% of the total body surface area affected. Burns are full thickness, affecting all layers of the epidermis. Skin grafting required. Right limb mobility compromised.
There were images. Awful images. Weeping, charred flesh, a mottled combination of white and black and violent red. Blisters of horrifying sizes. Cracked, peeling, ruined skin. All a stark contrast to the clinical blue hospital draw sheets her victim lay upon.
She opened the next file.
Patient name: Amalie Haug
Age: 25
Diagnosis: 3rd-degree burns affecting the torso and lower limbs. 46% of the body surface area is affected. Infection present. Oxacillin administered intravenously. Skin grafting required. Patient currently being kept in a medically-induced vegetative state.
She reached for the next.
Patient name: Jonah Berg
Age: 19
Diagnosis: 2nd and 3rd-degree burns affecting both upper limbs, neck and face. Loss of phalanges 1-5 on right hand and 4-5 on left hand. Reconstructive rhinoplasty required. Patient currently being kept in a medically-induced vegetative state.
Patient name: Goran Opstaad
Age: 67
Diagnosis: Severe smoke inhalation and extensive damage to vocal cords. Tracheotomy required.
Patient name: Hildi Brecke
Age: 34
Diagnosis: 3rd-degree burns affecting the trunk and lower limbs. Approx. 72% of the total body surface area affected. Burns are full thickness, affecting all layers of the epidermis. Skin grafting required.
Patient name: Svana Brecke
Age: 6--
A sob broke from her then - a deep, retched, broken sound. She drew her knees up to her chest, curling into herself as her sobs came in waves. She wrapped her arms around her legs, cradling herself as her tears fell, still staring at the open folders - the pictures of her ruin.
"I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I'm so sorry."
Against her will, her lungs desperately drew in fresh gulps of air and she cursed every breath.
Because she didn't want to ever be able to breathe in again. She wanted it all to just go dark. She wanted--
Natasha stood and rounded the table to Reagan's side. She closed the folders and pushed them out of arm's reach before turning to lean against the table, folding her arms
"No--" Reagan tried to protest, reaching for the files once more even as fresh tears slipped down her face.
Natasha blocked her.
"That's enough of today," Natasha said. Her tone was firm but not unkind. "Take some time to calm down and if you still feel like you're not done, I'll let you look again tomorrow."
Reagan wanted to protest but she knew with Nat it would be useless. There'd be no talking her round. So she remained quiet, wiping her nose miserably with the sleeve of her sweater
"SHIELD is covering all medical expenses and loss of property. It's going to be a long road to recovery but they're all going to pull through. There was one man they were worried about for a while, but his condition has stabilized. The doctors say they're all going to make it. They're all going to live, Reagan. That's not nothing."
Reagan nodded wordlessly, as she stared down at her hands, too ashamed to meet the other woman's eye.
"They should have killed me," Reagan murmured at last.
"Stop that. It wasn't your fault."
"Of course, it was my fault."
"Reagan, look at me," Natasha said firmly, and watery, reluctant eyes obeyed. "I know what it feels like to hurt people. I know what it's like to carry that weight. You need to find a way to make your peace with it. It will never be okay that it happened, but you can move forward. Use it to make you stronger. You can't let it break you."
Reagan dropped her gaze. She only nodded because words would only fail her.
To find herself alone in a room somewhere within a palace of the Gods, a million lightyears away from Earth, reflecting back upon memories of SHIELD and burned flesh and wretched screams - it all felt like it had happened a lifetime ago to another version of herself. Like a glimpse into an alternate dimension.
She wished it had been.
She wished every day that she hadn't hurt those people. That she could have made it stop.
They'd tried at SHIELD - they all had - to figure out a way for her to kill the flames, to overpower them.
They'd all been sorely disappointed to discover that she just wasn't strong enough. She knew that. Even if no one ever said it to her face.
Smother them.
Tame them.
Suppress them.
Never once had she tried admitting that they were a part of her - welcoming them home.
Because at first, she'd resented her powers. Loathed them.
Over time she'd come to accept their permanence. She learned not to unleash them to her full capability. Learned how to keep them buried within her. Muzzled.
But she never viewed them as a part of her. They were something that happened to her. They became her weapon. Hers to wield.
But they weren't... her.
But if she could accept them... Let them be... See herself as fire and fire as herself...
She'd felt it in that moment in the sparring field - that Loki could be right.
And for a moment, she'd felt hope.
Oh, how she hated hope.
Hope meant a chance at losing hope.
And she was so, so very sick of losing hope.
Reagan sat on the floor alone in her chambers staring into a burning fireplace with her knees hugged close to her chest. She hadn't eaten. Hadn't slept. She just couldn't bring herself to do anything other than stare into the flames, unblinking. She wasn't sure how long she'd been there, watching the flames dance. She'd lit the flames hours ago, and let time slip away as she watched them burn.
As she gazed into the flames, Reagan forced herself to breathe in long, steadying breaths, trying to convince herself that it would be okay either way. If Loki was wrong, then nothing changed. But if he was right...
Distant memories of screams, of pleas, of terror all around her clawed their way into her mind once again. She closed her eyes, at last, fighting against the images.
She'd spent years - years - so afraid of herself, of letting herself lose control, of hurting anyone else.
If what Loki said was true...
She could barely allow herself to even consider what that might mean.
All she had to do was stop fighting it. All she had to do was call her fire home. To accept it.
At long last, after what had seemed like an eternity, Reagan stretched out a trembling hand into the flames. She allowed them to lick against her skin, flickering this way and that. The flames danced around her hand and caressed her gently. They recognised her. Greeted her.
And then she called them to her.
Reagan stopped breathing entirely as she watched the flames bent to her will. They licked their way up her fingers, around her wrist, slithering up her forearm. She felt the way they embraced her - knew her intimately - before slowly sinking graciously into her flesh, becoming one with her. Her skin glowed with the vibrant light fire as it sunk into her and settled deep within her very veins.
She managed to suck in a short, shuddering breath as she watched the flames die away - a faint glow beneath her skin fading slowly to nothingness. As tears began to cloud her vision, her gaze drifted slowly towards the now empty fireplace and then back to her hand once again.
Slowly, she brought her hand closer to her face to inspect it, hardly allowing herself to believe it was real.
Finally, Reagan allowed herself to breathe again. And that breath turned into a broken sob. She buried her face in her hands and cried.
Loki sensed her behind him before he actually saw her. He spun towards her, guarded. He had turned their last interaction over in his mind obsessively since the moment she had forced her shields into place, desperate to understand how he'd miss stepped on such a monumental scale. He couldn't comprehend what he might have done.
There had been tension between them already; he was all too aware of that. Fandral's recent warning had hung heavily between them even as he'd sensed the way Reagan had been trying so hard to resist it.
But something he'd done - or said - had been the final straw. The breaking point. And she'd pushed away from him with alarming force.
She hadn't done that in so long. Loki hadn't been prepared for the way it stung.
This mortal who resented him, fought him, showed up constantly unannounced, mistrusted him, consumed his time, his energy, his thoughts - who was she to be enraged by anything he may have said when all he was doing was trying to help her? He probably should have realised it was inevitable, that his rage would come, blooming ugly and deep rooted in his chest.
And so, when she appeared there in his cell - when she first came striding towards him - on instinct, he opened his mouth to say something scathing.
But before he even had time to form a sentence, her arms were wrapped tight around his torso and she had buried her face in the curve of his neck.
It was jarring.
Loki froze, his arms suspended in midair, unable to register exactly what she was doing for a few moments.
His brow furrowed as he felt her press herself closer to him. She fisted her hands almost desperately into the back of his shirt. As though he were the thing that might disappear at any moment. If she was at all aware of Loki's confusion, it didn't seem to phase her. She gave no indication that she was going to pull away from him any time soon. In fact, as she held onto him and gave a small, watery sniff, she pulled herself just a little closer still.
"Thank you," she finally managed to whisper as a tear spilled down her cheek.
Loki craned his neck to the side a little to try and see her face but it was resolutely buried against him, hidden from view. Part of him wanted to take hold of her shoulders and pull her away so that he could look at her - look her in the eye and understand. But it seemed impossible that she would let go in that moment, and forcing her to do so was, in truth, the last thing he wanted to do.
She was trembling against him and Loki, still unsure, slowly - tentatively - prodded at the barrier she still held in place between them, asking for permission. Under the gentlest pressure, she allowed the shields to fall away and Loki felt it instantly.
It was like a tidal wave.
Overwhelming emotion crashed over him.
A dam, locked in place for years, had been broken and all that repressed fear and anger and anguish was finally able to flow through her. She could unleash it, and feel it, without it having to consume her.
Everything she'd hidden from.
She could let it out.
It didn't undo the damage she'd caused. It didn't fix it. It didn't make her victims whole again. And she could still never give back to them what she'd unwillingly taken from them that day.
But she never had to worry about it happening again.
Because he'd fixed it. He'd given her the answer. He'd shown her how. And yes, she had a long road ahead of her, it was a skill that would need to be honed. But finally - finally - she'd had the way to do it.
He'd shown her how.
Loki had done that for her.
She could stop that thought from repeating over and over again.
Thank you... Thank you... Thank you...
Another tear slipped down her face and she continued to cling to him.
Slowly, hesitantly, as if he wasn't even sure if it were something he was allowed to do, he circled his arms around her smaller frame and held her close to him.
Her breathing hitched with emotion in response and he squeezed her reassuringly.
Gently he settled his cheek against her temple.
"It's alright," he murmured into her hair. "Reagan... it's alright..."
A small sob broke from her then, followed by another, and before long Reagan had broken down completely, her tears falling freely as Loki held her. It was a long time before she was able to calm herself again, but all the while Loki held her firm, and let her cry against him, as he whispered soft words of comfort to her.
When at last her tears slowed, Reagan pulled away, somewhat reluctantly, and though Loki let her go, he remained close. She wiped her tears from her face, composing herself, trying to find her words - to offer up an explanation. She supposed she ought to be embarrassed, letting him see her like that, but she was still far too relieved - far too grateful - to find it in herself.
She opened her mouth to speak but as her eyes met his, she stilled.
Loki gazed down at her wordlessly, pained understanding written on his features.
Her eyebrows drew together as she stared up at him, everything either of them could ever say passing between them in that silent moment.
And that was all she needed.
He understood. She'd let him feel it - see it - the ugly truth of her. And he understood.
Loki inclined his head gently.
And as her face crumbled again, it was Loki who reached for her first and drew her in close and promised her that she was safe as her arms found their way back around his waist. He held her.
Notes:
Sorry this one's a little shorter, lovelies! It just felt like a really good place to stop. More coming soon :)
Chapter 17
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Loki and Reagan sat beside each other on his mattress under the unrelenting lights of the prison cell. A peace had settled over them. Reagan finally seemed to have run out of tears, far more calm now, as the pair spoke softly to one another. There had been long stretches of silence where she was still processing, still churning through memories and emotions, trying to come to terms with her new reality. She left her shields down. Let him see all of it. That day, the bond felt like a tether - something anchoring her to a safe place so that she wouldn't spiral. She was grateful for it.
Loki carefully watched her process from his end of the bond, the storm of emotions still rolling through her, though not as aggressively now. He also watched from where he sat right beside her, studying the way her shifting emotions tugged at her face - guilt, uncertainty, relief, each taking their turns to pull at the corners of her mouth, at her brow. He was careful not to overstep - not to invade or intercept where it wasn't his place - but when her thoughts grew too dark or heavy, he gently coaxed her back to a place of calm.
He no longer held her, however badly his hands itched to touch her again. She'd taken a blanket from her chambers and now sat tightly wrapped up inside of it. Though she still remained close, as if she were reluctant to leave. Perhaps not wanting to be alone.
"So what should I do next?" Reagan murmured when her mind had at last become a lot calmer. "To get a better handle on it, I mean, controlling the flames?"
"Start larger fires and quell them," Loki said simply, his voice far more gentle than Reagan was used to. "This is just like a muscle, you're going to need to train it. It'll take time. Though, I must say I'm impressed with how quickly you managed the fireplace. It's no secret you have a certain natural capacity for working with the element, but still, time and time again you achieve far greater feats than I ever would have anticipated from a Midgardian."
She offered him a small smile, though didn't quite meet his eye. She'd since become a little self-conscious about the vulnerability she'd allowed him to see.
"See? I told you we weren't that bad."
"No, I suppose you're not."
Loki watched the way a little colour shaded her face at his response.
"It's so strange to think... back in New York," her voice was still so small. "I had to hold back. I was so afraid of making things worse. I could have taken down those flying whale things-"
"Leviathan," Loki corrected gently.
"Sure. I could have taken down the Leviathan, no trouble, if I'd just known how to call the flames back, but I was scared I would burn the city down so I didn't even try."
Reagan caught the fleeting look of scepticism that flashed across his features.
"What?" she asked indignantly.
"I understand that you've been afraid of your own abilities since they've been so unwieldy but let's remain in reality."
"Hey!"
"I'm sure you would have fared quite well, but it hardly would have been 'no trouble,'" he quirked an eyebrow at her.
Reagan studied him for a moment, squinting.
"You have no idea how hot I burn."
"No, I know that. But I still think you might be getting a little carried away."
"Loki," she said, frustrated. "The one time they convinced me to test my limits at SHIELD they had to dowse me in liquid nitrogen because I was sucking all of the oxygen out of the facility and I was melting concrete. Do you know the melting point of concrete? It's about 2800 degrees Fahrenheit. You really think your stupid little Leviathan buddies would have come out the other side of that, butthead?"
Lok smirked at her.
"What?!"
"I was just curious how long it would take to get a rise out of you," he told her evenly.
A begrudging smile stretched across her face.
"Asshole," she muttered.
"Ah, you see? That's more like it," Loki smiled.
She laughed, and that small simple sound filled him with pride. They each fell silent before Loki spoke again.
"Stupid little Leviathan buddies," he repeated with a snicker.
"I know, shut up," Reagan groaned, hiding her face in her hands. "In my emotional state, my normally God-tier wit has been compromised."
Loki let out a small laugh and nudged his shoulder playfully against hers, she returned the gesture before the smile faded softly from her face. She dropped her gaze to her hands, fiddling idly with the hem of the blanket she had wrapped around her.
"Loki... I'll never be able to repay you for what you've done for me," she murmured, unable to look at him.
Loki turned and studied her profile in a long, peaceful stretch of silence, an ache swelled in his chest - an ache he was becoming all too familiar with.
"You'd never have to," he replied at last.
The pair never discussed Fandral's warning after that. It no longer felt necessary. The tension he'd managed to cause between them was left all but forgotten, replaced by a newfound understanding of one another.
The word wasn't trust. Reagan wasn't quite sure what it was, exactly. All she knew was that Fandral was wrong.
She'd never felt used by Loki.
She still couldn't blame Fandral for his misgivings. She hadn't forgotten the things he'd done. Not just on Earth, but in Asgard as well. But Fandral saw those things as the acts of a monster. And she had too, she had looked at Loki and thought she had him all figured out - a soulless, evil creature who just wanted to take and ruin and rule. She'd fallen for the icy mask he wore, just as Fandral had.
But when she'd been forced to look closer, she'd seen more. Even before she'd wanted to. Back at the start, she'd wanted to keep him in that box. He was a cruel thing. A curse. Nothing more. She hadn't wanted to see him as a person. And so in her resentment, she'd willed herself to disregard Loki's pain - his loneliness - even though it was right there, laid bare for her through a bond that he had been unwillingly burdened with just as much as she had. She'd felt it and she'd ignored it. Told herself he'd earned it. Deserved it.
She couldn't help but hate herself for that a little now.
Because the Loki she was privy to did feel. Deeply. And something she was coming to understand about him was that he saw that - that fact that he felt at all - as an unforgivable weakness.
He hid his fear. She knew that well enough now. Had bared witness to enough of his nightmares to know that it was something he was very good at. It was something she didn't speak to him about. It was one thing that did feel off-limits between the two of them.
Fear, he could handle. Fear, he could conquer.
He could be calm in fear.
The thing she'd come to learn about Loki, however, was that when he did feel something - anything - that made him feel even remotely vulnerable, he had a tendency to disguise it as anger. And so that's why he was in an exceptionally bad mood when she finally managed to convince him to allow her to visit Sygran. She knew seeing the woman would help to heal a part of him - however small it might be - and she wanted that for him. She could never match what he'd given her, but if she could help him through this it might repay some small, small amount of the debt she owed him.
As Reagan made her way towards the Great Library, she could feel the barely suppressed rage pulsating from him.
She kept waiting for insults. For him to say something cruel and biting, but it never came. Ever since the day she had hugged him tight and showed him how raw she was inside - ever since she'd thanked him for helping her find a way to be in control - there was something softer in the way he interacted with her. It was subtle. She'd hardly have noticed it if she hadn't come to know him the way she did - hadn't been inside his mind - but it was there. Any sting that had once laced his many insults (for there were still many ) had been replaced with thinly-veiled affection. Any moments of anger, he made a conscious effort never to direct it at her. Any brooding that need be done, could be saved for later if she required any form of attention from him.
And that's why she had no reason to take it to heart when his voice sounded harshly inside her mind.
This is an absolutely stupid idea. An utter waste of everyone's time. What business is this of yours anyway? Why do you insist on sticking your nose where it need not be?
She slowed to a stop.
"Loki, if you really don't want to do this, I'm not going to force you. But I think if you let me go through with it, you'll be glad."
Loki was quiet for a long while before he spoke to her again.
She won't want to see me.
Reagan stilled, honest sympathy swelling in her. So that was it.
"I think you're wrong," she insisted gently.
Yes, but you think that of all my opinions so in this instance it's not at all helpful.
"Loki..."
Annoyed that his attempt at deflecting didn't work, he chose not to answer her. She could feel his bitterness, but also something more that she suspected he was so preoccupied with his own brooding that he didn't realise he'd let slip. And she was pretty sure it was hope. So for that reason, she pushed.
"Listen, just let me go talk to her," she tried one last time. "I'll ask her outright if she'd even want to talk to you. And if she says yes, we can come back another time... alright?"
Loki scowled.
Just get it over with.
They didn't speak again, not even when Reagan reached the library and she began to weave her way through the stacks in search of Sygran. With every step, Reagan felt Loki's anxiety mount. And the anger he tried to hide it behind swelled along with it. She did her best to keep her energy calm, hoping that it might be some kind of comfort to him.
When she found the older woman, Sygran looked up as if she had sensed her coming and her features brightened.
"Oh, hello dear," she said happily, moving towards her. "You're looking awfully well."
Reagan smiled warmly.
"Thanks, I guess I've finally acclimatized to life in Asgard. It took a minute."
"Come, sit with me a moment. These old legs of mine could use a rest."
Sygran looped her arm through Reagan's happily, as if it were something they'd done together a hundred times before, and walked her over to a pair of matching chairs, in amongst the towering shelves.
"I was hoping I'd get to see you again," Sygran told her as she took her seat.
"I should have come sooner," Reagan replied sincerely. "I'm sorry. I've just been, uh, preoccupied with a nightmare prince. You know how it is."
They both smirked.
"Indeed I do," Sygran agreed, lacing her hands together as she leaned her elbows onto her knees, leaning towards Reagan. "And tell me, has the poor, sweet fool improved his behaviour at all?"
Reagan felt a spike of tension down the link. It hadn't escaped her notice that Loki was remaining uncharacteristically silent as the two women interacted.
"Like you wouldn't believe," Reagan replied, sending Loki an affectionate prod. "It pains me to admit that I think you might have been right about him after all."
The grin that spread across Sygran's face was simply enormous.
"Oh, wonderful. Wonderful."
Reagan paused for a moment before she spoke again. She had her words chosen and allowed them to swirl around in her mind so that Loki might see them and have time to object. He didn't protest, but something in him did harden, as if he were stealing himself. Reagan looked up at Sygran.
"I'm actually here because I wanted to ask you something about Loki," she said.
"And what might that be?"
She paused again, waiting for him to react. Again, he did not, but she felt his tense and undivided attention on the link.
It'll be okay, she promised him.
He didn't respond.
"I wanted to ask you," Reagan said out loud. "If you could talk to Loki, would you want to?"
"Oh, yes, dear. Of course. Very much so."
An ache pulsed down the link in response.
"But if you did... would you have kind things to say to him?"
The older woman looked momentarily affronted at the implication. Her gaze sharpened and her posture stiffened. She opened her mouth to protest but then stilled as realisation seemed to hit her. She gazed at Reagan as a tremor of emotion passed over her features.
"Oh... oh. He's here, isn't he? He's with you?"
Reagan hesitated, waiting for a cue. Again Loki didn't react. He only watched.
"He can hear you," Reagan murmured at last, hyperaware of how cautious she needed to be. "But I don't know if he's-"
Sygran leaned forward then and took both of Reagan's hands in hers. She gazed up into her eyes with such affection, and though she knew it wasn't for her, still it pulled at Reagan's heartstrings. Reagan watched as Sygran smiled gently.
"Hello there, boy," she said to Reagan - through Reagan. "I've missed you so."
Reagan waited, her heart seemed to be beating a little harder than normal. She waited for his reaction, but still, he just stared down the link. Frozen.
Loki, it's okay... she assured him gently. Talk to her.
I... I can't.
She felt his want to retreat but she reached for him gently.
Okay. That's okay... You tried, Loki. That's something.
She offered Sygran a sympathetic smile.
"I'm sorry, I don't think he's ready..." Reagan moved to stand. "I think maybe I should come back another time."
"Oh, please don't go," Sygran asked gently. Reagan watched as the woman obviously considered her words carefully. "I've so wanted to see you again... Reagan. It's been some time since I've had company. Won't you sit with me for a while? Tell me of Midgard."
Loki? Is that alright? I can tell her no. It's okay if that's what you want to do.
No, it's alright... just don't...
It's okay. Reagan promised. I understand.
Thank you...
Reagan settled back down in her seat and began to open up to the woman she'd come to admire from afar. She spoke of the city she grew up in, told her about her favourite things about home, about Norway and getting her powers. That soon lead to the conversation shifting, with careful avoidance of mention of Loki, to her arrival in Asgard. What she had thought of it all at first, how she felt about it now. Sygran started sharing stories of her own and over time, Loki's name slipped in here and there. When Loki didn't bristle like a startled animal Reagan nodded to her encouragingly and before long Sygran was spilling forth all manner of fond memories about the raven-haired Prince. She told her what it was like watching him grow. How at his request she'd taught him to cook a vast array of dishes over the years - an unusual skillset for a Prince to have. She spoke of gifts he had given her, and of course, inevitably, the pranks he had pulled on the other kitchen staff.
Sygran held her belly laughing as she recounted one tale in particular. Loki had transformed all the sugar in the kitchens into chilli powder, so when the kitchenhands bit into their fresh pastries to test them, they were rapidly all in desperate need of water. Which Loki had also seen to by replacing every last drop of it. With vinegar.
"The rest of the staff wanted him banned for that," Sygran wiped a tear of laughter away from her face. "But I wouldn't hear of it. That day was absolute chaos and he did show mercy on the staff after that mostly. Though Tilda did resign soon after when he enchanted the peels of all our apples to reseal each time we tried to peel them-"
They were oranges, Loki told her softly.
Reagan stilled for just a second, surprised to hear his voice. Sygran clocked it.
"What is it, dear?" she asked.
"Loki, he says they were oranges."
The two women exchange a warm look.
"You know, come to think of it, you're right. They were oranges."
Sygran continued to tell Reagan her tales and slowly but surely, Loki started to contribute. He peppered in little facts or forgotten details. And soon he was laughing along too. It filled her with warmth. Reagan passed on each of his comments, each time earning a grateful squeeze of the hand from the older woman. Soon, as Loki's enthusiasm grew, she had to start paraphrasing everything he wanted to say because she could no longer keep up word for word.
A moment of realisation hit Reagan then as an intrusive thought entered her mind. She'd seen a scenario quite similar to this before.
Oh my god, she gasped.
What is it?
I'm Jennifer Love Hewitt.
...you're what?
I'm the Ghost Whisperer.
Loki was silent for a few beats.
...Reagan-- if you wouldn't mind focusing-
Oh right, yes. She jolted, forcing her attention back to Sygran. Sorry.
Slowly, the process became more comfortable, and the tension in Loki eased and she could feel him genuinely begin to enjoy himself. Reagan was nothing short of elated. She was so certain it would be good for Loki to take this step and reach out to someone so important to him, but she never imagined it would go this way. She was glad for it. Well, that is until Loki decided it was time for her to tell Sygran about how she'd managed to get stranded at his castle.
Loki laughed all the while about it being her fault, how she'd had to call Heimdall. He thoroughly enjoyed her having to tell the story from his perspective, and she did so very begrudgingly.
I thought we agreed that was your fault, she muttered to him once she'd finished recounting his version of events.
I did not, nor will I ever, agree to a statement so thoroughly ridiculous. You should know me better than that by now.
Reagan's nose scrunched in amused annoyance and she rolled her eyes ever so slightly.
"Is that boy still giving you grief, girly?" Sygran asked, having picked up on the silent exchange between the two.
"Oh," Reagan smiled at her sweetly. "No, not at all. He was just realising how stupid he looks in those horns he wears and I was just helping him through the revelation."
Wha-- Take that back at once!
A knowing grin spread across Sygran's features.
"I see."
"Now he's saying that he has absolutely no idea how political systems work and while I'm at the library it would be helpful if I could pick out a few books for beginners for him."
"Well, I can certainly help with that."
Unbelievable. I should have known it was a bad idea for the two of you to get together. You're thoroughly incorrigible.
"I see you and I have something in common - it can be quite a treat to get a rise out of the young prince."
Reagan shrugged. "Well, you're the one who told me to give him hell."
She did what?! Reagan. You tell that woman right now that she is a lecherous traitor!
"Ohhh, he just said your cookies are only so-so."
Hey! Way over the line, mortal!
With a wide smile, Sygran leaned in towards Reagan, evidently enjoying the game.
"Well, if that's the case then the next time you come to visit me I shall host you at my home so I can bake for you. Prove the sweet lamb wrong."
"Oh, totally, that's my all-time favourite thing to do," Reagan told her happily and Loki rolled his eyes.
This was a mistake. I don't like the two of you getting along whatsoever.
And Reagan might have found that a little easier to believe if the bond between them hadn't been humming with affection.
Soon enough, the evening grew late and it was time to part ways. The two women stood, facing each other, both a little unsure of how to go about their goodbyes.
Is there anything you want me to say? Reagan asked Loki.
Perhaps just that you think I'm devilishly handsome.
Reagan smirked, thoroughly elated to have him back to behaving like the little shit he normally was.
Okay, well, I'm obviously not saying that.
Why not? It wouldn't be the first time.
Reagan pulled a strange face.
When have I ever said that?
It was one of your first thoughts the first time you projected into my cell.
She felt the way Loki's lips curled into a smug, satisfied smile.
Hmm... that doesn't sound like me, she mused, refusing to even acknowledge the flash of memory he was insistently pressing down the link. Are you sure you're not thinking of someone else?
Certainly not. Just look at this memory! Reagan, look at it--
Loki.
Yes?
She's waiting.
She felt the way Loki caught himself and noticed Sygran's somewhat hopeful gaze.
Loki quieted then and Reagan felt a complex surge of emotions ebbing from him. It was heavy, aching, and she hoped at that moment that their connection - her being there - helped make that burden just a little lighter. She waited, allowing him to weigh his words carefully, and Sygran did the same.
Would you tell her... he said at last. Tell her that I'm sorry I didn't live up to the standard to which she held me. Tell her I'm sorry that what I allowed her to believe of me was a falsehood.
And Reagan repeated the message gently, even as it made her heart ache.
But Sygran just smiled kindly.
"The only thing you have to be sorry for, boy," Sygran said and Reagan felt the nervous clench of his gut. "Is not coming to visit me sooner."
Reagan felt the ache her words evoked in Loki and studied the woman for just a few moments before she could no longer contain herself. She surged forward and wrapped the woman into a tight hug. What could she say? She'd never been very good at self-restraint.
"This is from Loki," she said, her voice slightly muffled against the taller woman's clothes.
Don't tell her that. Loki grumbled in her mind, though the emotions that ebbed from him didn't quite match his tone. Sygran and I don't hug . We aren't children.
"He's loving this," Reagan assured the other woman, ignoring him.
Sygran laughed as she squeezed her back just a little tighter, knowing full well the truth of it.
"I can only imagine."
The pair soon pulled apart and Sygran cupped her face one last time, her eyes slightly watery.
Reagan let Sygran look through her, and she reached gently for a somewhat reluctant Loki to do the same. She felt a hesitant swirl of him down the link - felt the ache in him as he stared at the older woman through Reagan's eyes. She truly hoped it was enough for each of them to feel like they got that moment together.
"Now you listen to me, boy," Sygran said with a smile. "You behave. You be happy. And you take good care of this one."
Reagan offered her a gentle smile. Not expecting a response from Loki. And as she bid her goodbye, and turned to go, she heard Loki speak, almost as an afterthought.
I will, he promised gently.
As Reagan exited the library and made her way back to her chambers, she heard Loki's voice one final time that evening.
Reagan, I... Thank you.
It was all he ever said on the matter. Never brought it up again. But the weight of those two words - how much he put into that small, simple thank you - Reagan felt every ounce of it.
"By the way, what's the Tournament of the Convergence?" Reagan asked, she was laying at the end of Loki's bed, one leg propped up with the other crossed over it, her head hanging slightly off the edge. Loki lounged at the other end against his pillows, propped up on one elbow, studying her as if trying to figure out how that position could be in any way comfortable.
It was late at night, and Reagan had found herself unable to sleep. When she'd felt that he was awake too, she projected into the cell once again insisted he keep her company until she grew tired enough to sleep.
Though he'd never admit to it, their late-night talks were becoming some of his favourite. Though he suspected Reagan was already aware of that given the rate at which the frequency of them was increasing. These late-night chats were usually just simple and meaningless and calm. Often revealing just a little more that he hadn't known about this strange, annoying girl from Midgard. If Loki hadn't known better, he might even have sometimes - just sometimes - called them intimate.
"Where'd you hear of that?" Loki asked, looking slightly perplexed.
"Everyone's talking about it lately. There are, like, banners and stuff all over the place. It seems like a pretty big deal."
"I hadn't realised it was approaching," Loki admitted, once again struck with how difficult it was to keep track of time in the dungeon, even now that he was spending so much time in Reagan's presence. "It's a natural event that only occurs once every five thousand years when all Nine Realms of Yggdrasil, the World Tree, fall into alignment. For many, it will go unnoticed, but it has been said to have caused strange anomalies in the past - wormholes, shifts in gravity - that sort of thing."
"Oh, yeah that sort of thing," Reagan agreed. "It's so crazy the type of stuff that's becoming normal to me."
"In any case, it's tradition that Asgard holds a tournament to celebrate the approach. They'll soon announce a ball to follow."
"Oh yeah, I saw that too. The tournament just sounds like a lot more fun, don't you think?"
Loki didn't answer, instead, he stared down at the palm of his hand as he ran his thumb along the lines there, lost in thought. Reagan sat up, evidently sensing the change in him.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
Loki nodded.
"It'll just be a shame to miss it," he admitted.
He supposed he should start getting used to it. There'd be a great many things he'd be missing out on, locked away in that cell of his. He'd been in such high spirits of late that it was easy to forget - his sentence of eternity.
"Well, don't worry," Reagan smiled kindly, tapping her temple. "I'll bring you with me."
She was getting so good at reading him. Loki felt the swell of pity she experienced at his expense. No, he corrected himself. Not pity. Empathy.
He couldn't help but soften a little.
"I suppose the whole ordeal will be more entertaining from your, shall we say, unique perspective," he relented.
"Exactly! You just sit back, relax and let me handle the show. You can just treat it like a pay-per-view."
Loki wasn't sure exactly what that meant. But he rather liked the sound of it.
"Whoa. You've never watched TV before, have you?" Reagan said as the thought occurred to her.
Loki shook his head.
"That's crazy."
"It's hardly crazy."
"It's a little crazy."
"I doubt I'd care for it anyway."
"Oh come on, you love plays. TV is just like a ton of little plays. You'd be into it. I'm positive. "
Loki just watched her, amused, shaking his head a little.
"You're not going to start lecturing me on this as you did with likable Midgardians are you?"
Reagan didn't answer immediately. Instead, she stilled, taking the time to contemplate.
"No," she answered decidedly. "But if opportunity ever presents itself I'm going to make you watch The Office. I think that's the one that would really get you."
"The office?"
"It follows this group of people who work at a paper company. It's basically just about how mundane day-to-day life can be kind of wonderful. I think you'd appreciate how incompetent the main character is since you like ragging on Midgardians so much. It's full of pranks too. And it sneaks up on you and ends up being pretty touching. And actually, come to think of it... you remind me a little bit of Dwight."
"Who is Dwight?"
"He's this annoying pain in the ass who makes everyone's life so much harder than it needs to be." She smirked at Loki pointedly. "He's always reaching up a ladder for some higher position but never quite getting there. He's super dramatic and thinks he's better at a lot of things than he really is. And he acts like he doesn't care about anyone else but it turns out that on the inside he's a bit of a softie. He's totally my favourite."
Loki fought desperately to keep his expression neutral to her words but the way Reagan looked far too pleased with herself led him to believe the heat creeping up his neck had made itself known to her.
"What do I think I'm better at than I really am?" he asked in his best attempt to sound annoyed.
"World domination," she said simply.
He whipped his head her way to find a wide, teasing grin on her face. How strange it was, that come to be able to make light-hearted jokes about New York. At every turn, she surprised him. Whenever he found himself so certain she'd pull away, there was again. He didn't understand. Though he longed to.
"May I ask you something, perhaps, a little personal?" Loki asked carefully, dropping his gaze to his fingers.
She tilted her head as she watched him, noticing the shift in his demeanour.
"Of course," she said gently.
"What changed for you that day?"
Reagan's brow pinched ever so slightly. "What day?"
"The day you turned up here out of the blue to offer the most constipated apology I've ever bared witness to."
Laughter bubbled its way up her throat and Loki smiled gently in response. She hesitated a little, even as the smile lingered on her lips, as if unsure of how to answer.
"I'd done nothing to deserve your peace offering," Loki pressed, watching her. "In fact, I'd done the opposite. But you mended the bridge. You apologised to me when I think we're both fully aware it was I who should have apologised to you. I've wondered ever since what it was that caused you to come back."
She looked down and Loki's eyes followed the way her hair fell from where she'd tucked it behind her ear. He fought against the urge to reach out and touch it.
"Promise you won't get mad?" she asked softly.
"Pinky promise," Loki replied.
Her eyes flicked up to meet his, amusement caused her lips to quirk at their little inside joke. That night she'd taught him about that felt like a million years ago now. She looked down once more, her smile slowly slipping away.
"Some advice that Sygran gave me had a lot to do with it but really I, um... I found out that you were adopted."
Loki's heart jolted uncomfortably.
"Thor told me that while he was banished, you found out that Odin and Frigga weren't your birth parents, and that's when everything sort of..."
"I see," Loki said.
She looked up to see his gaze was no longer on her, in fact, he was withdrawing into himself. Rapidly. She wanted to stop it.
"I didn't know much about you then, Loki," she continued, treading as carefully as she could. Watching to gauge his reaction. "And I know that you know I wasn't your biggest fan. But something that also sort of stayed with me was that first day we came back to Asgard. I could hear you talking to Odin. I heard the things he said. He said that Frigga was the only reason you were still alive..."
Loki didn't respond and so Reagan hoped it was safe to press on.
"I felt how much that hurt you... It was such a cruel thing for him to say to you. I mean, regardless of what you'd done, he's still your dad... And- your own family shouldn't be the ones who make you feel as lonely as I know you are."
It was a bold thing to say.
Perhaps too bold.
But Loki had asked and she wanted to give him the truth.
He swallowed thickly.
"I can see it, you know. How he treats you compared to Thor."
Loki's eyes flicked up to meet hers, surprised.
No one had ever acknowledged it before. He knew Sygran had some sort of opinion on the matter. But no one had ever said the words outright. In fact, time and time again, when he had said it himself, he had been shut down. Told he was exaggerating or seeing things that weren't there.
"What do you mean?" he asked tightly, not able to meet her eye.
He needed to hear her say it.
He needed to hear someone say it. Just once. To confirm it wasn't all in his head. It wasn't him being selfish, self-absorbed, or entitled. He needed just once for it to be someone else's opinion too. So that he could know it was real.
Reagan seemed to read him, to understand that was exactly what he was asking of her.
"Thor thinks Odin raised you both as equals... said you were both born to rule but... I haven't seen much, Loki, you've only ever let a few fractions slip past your shield. But there's nothing equal about the way he's treated you and Thor. To have had to experience a thousand years of that, a thousand years of your own father loving someone else more than you... and then to find out that he wasn't your birth parent and be left to wonder if that was the reason why. It's unbelievably cruel, Loki. And I'm sorry it happened to you."
His brow furrowed ever so slightly - the only outward indication that he was fighting back a tidal wave inside himself.
"Loki, you did some messed up things on Earth," she said, and Loki had to swallow hard against the ache in his chest. An ache that was part hers and part his. "Some messed up things. But... That doesn't make your pain invalid. And your dad is a huge part of that pain. Probably even the main part. For him to have said what he said to you, knowing everything I know now. That was the most awful thing I've ever heard. And you deserve better than that. You deserve an apology from him."
Of all the things he thought Reagan might say when he'd asked the question what changed that day, this was the very last of it. A cosmos of emotions churned within him. Some still so close to the surface - anger at the universe, his resentment for his father. Some new to him - his ever-growing tenderness for this strange mortal girl. And some that he buried so deeply, sometimes he hardly remembered they were there - aching loneliness, sadness, and a want for something more...
"You don't have to be so kind to me about this. I know you feel indebted to me because I helped you but... I don't want-"
"It's not that," she assured him gently.
His gaze flicked to hers, guarded. Reagan let out a low sigh.
"I know what it's like to feel like an outsider in your own family," she admitted.
Loki's brow peaked in silent question.
"Do you remember the memory you saw, the day of my mom's funeral? When I was trying to get my dad on the phone to ask him if he was going to be there while I buried her?"
She glanced up at him and he nodded slowly. He didn't admit it aloud to her but he thought about that moment often. He loathed thinking about his actions now, the way he'd scoured her mind for information to use against her. He'd invaded, violated. He'd just been so full of rage and hatred that he hadn't cared. He'd wanted to hurt her. He'd wanted to hurt anything. But when he'd stumbled upon that memory - felt the pain of it - saw the way she so viciously protected it from him. He'd felt ugly even back then, to have seen that moment. And now, now that he'd come to see her as--
He couldn't allow himself to finish the thought. Pushed it away with force as he focused on Reagan's words.
"He didn't come," she told him with a pained grimace. "He called a few days later and said he was sorry but he couldn't get away from work - like it was some soccer game he'd missed or something. He said it like... like he could make up for it the next time. He'd divorced my mom about ten years before that and I suppose he thought that it wasn't a big deal. That he didn't need to be there for her... but he should have been there for me."
Reagan's voice cracked a little and she took a deep breath and closed her eyes trying to calm herself. Loki's jaw clenched as he watched her. He encased his anger, his outrage, inside a barrier to shield her from it. He didn't want her feeling it in that moment, he didn't want her to know how much pleasure he would take from tearing that man apart.
"It was nothing new, really," she continued. "He was never really there for me. Before they got divorced, I learned to just keep out of his way. He wasn't violent or anything, he just... he never hid the fact that I was just an inconvenience to have around. He'd never wanted kids. But then a few years after he left us, he met someone new and they had a daughter together and something was just different because he became this, like, perfect dad."
"You have a sister?" Loki asked, surprised.
"Half-sister," Reagan nodded. "Her name's Becca. She's a lot younger than me. She's only seven years old. I don't really have much of a relationship with her, I hardly ever see her. But Dad just bombards social media with photos of her. He's always out with her. Taking her to the park, or baseball games, or to have ice cream. And there's always all these comments underneath saying what an awesome dad he is and how lucky Becca is to have him... meanwhile, I don't even remember the last time he remembered to call me on my birthday."
She laughed sadly, and Loki felt the ache that throbbed through her chest at the very thought of it. The list of ways he wanted to disembowel the man was grown at a staggering speed.
"It was cancer. Pancreatic cancer that killed my mom. It was... I wouldn't wish it on anybody. I took care of her, while she was dying. She needed a lot of help toward the end. It was awful - awful - watching her go like that. Watching her suffer. And he never called me. Never texted. Didn't ask if I needed help. Didn't check-in. And all the while, he was taking Becca out to the movies, cooking her dinner and tucking her in every night. I just... I never understood what it was about her that made him step up and be a good dad. I never understood why I wasn't important enough for him to love me like that."
Loki's chest tightened then and he wanted to look away because he didn't want her to look into his eyes and see his own pain reflected there. But he found it was too late. Because he saw it there. She understood. She could see just how large a shadow he'd been pushed into all his life. And he'd never understood why... until he did.
"I'm sorry, Reagan, truly," he told her gently. "But you must know... Your father sounds like a fool. Because there is nothing unimportant about you."
She smiled sadly, her gaze remained on her hands. He felt the warmth he'd managed to bloom in her chest. He was grateful for it. He wanted it to stay there.
"Do you ever wonder about your birth parents?" Reagan asked him gently. "Do you know who they are?"
Loki studied her for a moment. Not since he'd found out had he been given the opportunity to speak about this. He could tell her, he realised. He knew he could. He could tell her in that moment exactly what he was and she would accept it. Revulsion might follow, in the hours, the days that came after. But if he told her now, what he truly was, she'd accept it. She'd offer her pity. And slowly pull away politely... Loki dropped her gaze, loathing himself for his cowardice.
He shook his head.
"No," he murmured. "No, I don't know who they are."
Reagan sat quietly, watching him, giving him time to process his thoughts.
"Sometimes... I wonder if perhaps..."
Loki fell quiet and scowled at himself. Part of him truly wanted to get the words out but... there was so much - too much. How could he possibly find the words here and now? How could he ever explain? He felt like a failure.
Reagan sensed it.
"Hey," she leaned forward to catch his eye, and he complied. "It's okay... It's not an easy thing to do. To talk about things you've kept buried."
Loki nodded slowly in agreement, still frustrated with himself. Disheartened. She opened up so easily. So willingly. What was this weakness in him that wouldn't allow him to do the same?
She studied him, an empathetic ache swelling in her chest. Once again reading him like a book.
"Loki... you're not less than anyone else," she said again. "You're not. Not Thor. Not your dad. Not anyone."
"You know..." Loki began. "All the texts, legends written of Asgard - even those on Midgard state - the contrary."
Reagan shrugged.
"Then they're wrong," she said.
"Really? As simple as that?" Loki smiled a little.
"Yep," she said confidently. "Besides, It doesn't really interest me what any of those texts have to say anyway. I've just always been more into Greek mythology, myself."
Loki's head snapped her way, looking utterly scandalised.
"Take that back," he commanded.
"I have a tattoo of Medusa on my ribs," she smirked up at him.
"Preposterous."
"Though actually..." Reagan said, a wild smile stretching across her face then. "I think I do recall once reading something about you giving birth to a horse? Now that, I wouldn't mind reading."
Loki threw his head back and roared.
"Ah yes, that would be courtesy of my brother. A rumour he spread amongst the humans as revenge. They'd wanted to hear tales of the mighty Thor-"
"Which, naturally, annoyed you."
"Obviously," Loki agreed. "And so I had spread a tale about him having to dress as a bride and marry a giant named Thrymr who had stolen his hammer in order to get it back." Loki snickered a little. "I must admit, I was rather proud of him for that one. Though, I can't say I'm too pleased that it's one that stuck around."
"What else did you tell them?" Reagan asked, giggling.
Loki launched into a slew of utterly ridiculous stories he'd attempted to spread about Thor, and Reagan laid down beside him, laughing delightedly as they became more and more ridiculous. She felt every bit as disappointed that these tales had not successfully caught on on Earth, and Loki couldn't help but to adore her for that.
Far too soon, she began to show signs of sleep beginning to take her. Yet as she began to yawn just a little more frequently and each blink took just a little longer than the last, Loki couldn't help but to think - to hope - that she seemed a little reluctant to go.
"Tell me something you've seen," she asked as she closed her eyes and folded her arm beneath her head like a makeshift pillow. The edges of her projection were beginning to blur, he could tell she wouldn't be with him much longer. "Something amazing,"
Loki smiled softly.
"On Midgard, I saw a girl made of fire," he whispered as he gazed down at her.
She giggled just a little, without opening her eyes. "Shut up, I'm being serious."
"So am I."
"Okay fine, something else. Something I haven't seen."
"As you wish," Loki murmured gently.
And so Loki told her of the wormhole, the one he'd fallen through when he fell from the edge of Asgard. And he left out the pain and the fear and the emptiness. Those were not for her. But he told her of the wonders of the galaxies he witnessed. For even in that darkness he saw wonderous beauties. He told her of the colours he'd seen which he'd never even imagined before, of bursting stars, and strange and wonderful sounds that echoed throughout the deepest reaches of space. And she smiled.
"I'm starting to think I might have to keep you," Reagan murmured, even as her project began to fade.
And as he watched her slowly slip into unconsciousness and her projection disappeared before his very eyes, Loki allowed himself to reach out a hand to feel the sheets where she'd lay, longing even for just a moment, to feel the warmth of her.
Notes:
Well, that ended up being a lot longer than I expected!
Just a heads up to everyone, I am going to try and update next week but I might not have time as it's my last week of semester and everything is due. I've already half-written good chunks of my next four chapters so I am going to try but if you don't hear from me I AM COMING BACK - I promise.
As always, I hope you enjoyed <3 Thank you to all readers and my love to reviewers xx
Chapter 18
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Loki wrapped a strong arm around Reagan's waist and pulled her body flush against his. As her breasts pressed against his naked chest she moaned gently into his mouth. He kissed her deeply, possessively, taking hold of her jaw to allow him better access to her.
Drawing her closer.
Closer.
Always needing to be closer.
"Loki..." she whispered, her voice laced with lust. She refused to let him go for even a moment as he lifted her and laid her down on the mattress, crawling over her painfully slowly, engulfing her.
When Loki parted her thighs with his, she opened up for him willingly and he settled there at her apex, grinding against her, with no intention of parting from her again any time soon. As he loomed over her, he moved to trail his lips down her throat. Licking, sucking, biting. Sure to leave a dusting of markings in his wake.
The sensation caused Reagan to dig her nails into the muscular flesh of his shoulders and he growled approvingly in response against her throat.
"Mine..." he hummed against her pulse point. He held his weight up on one elbow to keep from crushing her while his other hand kneaded possessively at her thigh, guiding her leg up to wrap around his waist.
Her hands trailed over the swell of his shoulders and up the back of his neck to tangle tenderly into his hair, holding him close to her as she leaned her face into the warmth of his neck. She inhaled his scent. Cedarwood. Amber. Home.
"Yours..." she whispered back.
It sounded like a promise.
She gasped as his fingers entered her then and he pulled her closer still, nuzzling his head against the curve of her jaw, kissing the skin there reverently as he toyed with her.
He pulled away from her ever so slightly then and when she opened her eyes, his gaze was already on her, his pupils blown wide with a mixture of lust and adoration. Tenderness burst in her chest. She brushed her fingertips over his cheekbone and he turned into her touch to kiss her palm.
"Loki... I think I..."
"It's alright, darling," he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder. "I have you."
Reagan wrapped her arms around him, melting into him, as he drew himself up over her. He pressed his forehead against hers, gazing into her eyes. He withdrew his hand from her slowly and she whimpered at the feeling of emptiness for only a moment before he captured her lips with his once again and slowly sunk himself into her--
Reagan awoke with a jolt and sat bolt upright in her bed, gasping for breath as she was ripped suddenly from her deep state of sleep. She looked around wildly - reached out in the bed for him, only to discover cold, empty sheets before she remembered that she was, of course, alone.
"Holy shit," she breathed as she pressed her hand to her chest as if to calm her racing heart. "Well, that's definitely new..."
As the vivid images of the dream slowly faded and she returned more resolutely to a state of consciousness, Reagan gazed around the room, attempting to orient herself. Confirming that it had been a dream.
It was midnight-dark except for the faint glow of a few last dying embers in the fireplace. She kicked her blankets off hurriedly, trying to calm down. Sweat beaded on her chest and her hands trembled ever so slightly. And aching want pooled between her legs. She clenched her thighs together as she pushed her hair back out of her face, still breathing shakily.
It was like she could still feel his hands on her, his mouth, all over her. It had seemed so real.. . It had felt like being owned by him. And she'd given herself over so willingly. She'd wanted it.
She had no idea what had woken her, she only knew that Loki's touch had felt--
"Oh god..." Reagan breathed out loud as a chill swept suddenly through her stomach.
Loki.
Dread filled her instantly, knowing all too well what she was going to find when she reached down the bond. It came as no surprise to her when she brushed against a familiar icy barrier held firmly and impenetrably in place. Unyielding. Resolute.
"Oh no..." she groaned out loud, flopping back against her pillows and burying her face in her palms shamefully. "No, no, no, no, no..."
He'd seen.
He'd seen what she was dreaming.
Dreaming about him.
"Control Z," she whined, begging the universe to undo what had just happened.
She wanted to sink into her mattress and disappear forever. She wanted to die. He was never going to let her forget about this. The torment she undoubtedly would have to face when he brought his shields down would be--
A wave of nausea swept through her as realisation struck.
No. It was worse than that.
Far worse.
He hadn't woken her to taunt her about what he'd seen. He hadn't laughed with glee and made thoroughly embarrassing jokes at her expense. He hadn't gone into painstaking detail about exactly how badly she clearly wanted him, lording it over her with that trademark smirk of his that she sometimes just wanted to slap right off his face.
No... He'd inadvertently woken her by slamming his shields down with alarming force.
What had he thought when he'd seen it?
Why had it been enough to cause him to freeze her out again?
Her stomach twisted horribly. She couldn't believe this was happening. She also couldn't believe he hadn't found it funny. But that just meant... if he hadn't found it funny, if he hadn't wanted to tease her about it mercilessly, then that just left... disgust.
The very thought of it caused her eyes to prickle with the threat of tears. Sure, their relationship had become something... more. Undeniably. They had a deeper connection than she'd ever imagined they'd have any hope of developing. To her great surprise, she cared about him. Genuinely. And she was so sure that he cared about her too.
But she was still a mortal. She was Midgardian. And she knew the contempt Loki had for her kind, whether or not she'd convinced him to admit he was amused by a few people she'd told her stupid little stories about to try and make him laugh.
She tried for a moment to imagine herself from his perspective. He'd been raised in a world of perfection and beauty and refinement. He had physical strength and magical power she could barely even comprehend. His lifespan would stretch out over centuries and centuries when she had, what, eighty short years?
She could only liken it to how it might feel if she made friends with a fly.
And then discovered that that fly had a sex dream about her.
She buried her face in her pillow and groaned dramatically.
She wanted.
To die.
And yet, there was still a small part of her that couldn't help to let her mind wander back to the images that had all but assaulted her in her sleep. That small, weak part of her that wanted to return to that dream world - to allow her fingers to travel down to where they were aching to be and to allow herself to indulge in the sensation of his mouth, hot on her neck. His tongue sweeping over hers. His hands pawing at her, needing to feel her, holding her possessively...
Reagan threw back her covers and leapt from her bed, hastily making her way into her washroom to have an incredibly cold shower. There was no fucking way she was going to risk him bringing down his shields unannounced just to catch her actually acting those images.
Despite her best attempts, Reagan failed to accomplish anything even close to resembling sleep for the rest of the night and by the time the first rays of sun pierced the darkness of her chambers, she was already dressed and ready for the day.
Loki's shields, of course, did not budge. And so she was overwhelmingly grateful that the day ahead offered such significant distraction. The Tournament of the Convergence was set to begin and all of Asgard was taking to the Gungnir Arena - the largest stadium in all of Asgard where the Allfather himself would oversee the events.
The moment she left her chambers she felt the hum of excitement in the air. Every hallway in the palace was alive with chatter and activity. Reagan weaved her way through the crowd picking up idle snippets of conversation as she passed. She mercifully didn't spot any familiar faces - most of which, she was avoiding since she'd revealed to Fandral she'd inadvertently been helping Loki to spy on their goings on. She normally wouldn't have minded. She normally would have had company regardless. How strange it was to be alone in her own head.
It had become a foreign feeling, to have her questions go unanswered - just thinking them into a void... rather than Loki responding to her.
An ache of longing passed through her. One she didn't quite have the heart to reject.
It seemed like everyone in all of Asgard was present. Well, everyone except--
She forced herself to focus on the bustling crowd around her, the very thought of him causing flashes of skin-on-skin to flood through her mind. The idea - the possibility - that any given moment he could re-enter her mind just to discover her thinking about that... she shuddered at the thought.
She was so desperate to find a distraction, that she was almost glad when the last person she ever wanted to interact with again found that to be the perfect moment to approach her in amongst the busy crowd.
Again, almost glad.
"Well, well. If it isn't the Midgardian."
Even in the thrum of conversation and movement and activity, Reagan's skin began to crawl at the familiar lilting voice that sounded from behind her. She set her jaw as she turned to face him, refusing to let him see even a whisper of discomfort in her.
"Hello Halvor," she said evenly, her hands curling into fists at her sides.
It was strange, he still wore that smile he'd worn when she'd first met him - far too warm. Far too smarmy. But before, perhaps loneliness had allowed her to read it as sincere. She'd been so out of place in Asgard amongst all these immortals - so desperate for kindness that she'd allowed herself to just believe that was what he was offering her. She'd been vulnerable. Until he'd tried to drug her. Put his hands on her. Until Loki - who had wanted her dead at the time - had warned her to get away. And now it was so much easier to see. She felt so stupid for not realising it sooner.
His strange interest in her - the way he sought her out.
There was something waspy to the way he watched her. Like he was trying to come across as a predator.
He was flanked by two other men, neither of whom she'd ever seen before. She kept her gaze resolutely on him.
He wanted her frightened.
She wouldn't give him that.
And she wondered vaguely if he could sense that she was alone in her own mind.
Was there something about the open link with Loki, some sort of unseen energy humming between them, that had kept her safe from Halvor until this moment?
Why was it only now that he'd chosen to approach her?
It didn't matter.
She would not show this slimeball her fear.
Despite Loki's shields already being held firmly in place, Reagan swiftly raised her own. She didn't want him sensing her distress - she didn't want him rushing to her rescue, as she was rather certain he would - despite the mortifying images she'd forced him to witness. She could deal with Halvor herself. She wanted that. She needed it.
"I've been thinking about you a lot, Reagan," Halvor told her as he moved closer.
Everything in her screamed at her to take a step away to keep that distance between them, but she refused to back down to him. He loomed over her, so much larger than she remembered.
"Yeah, I imagine it would have been difficult not to, with your hands all blistered up the way there were. All healed up now?"
She watched the muscle in his jaw twitch in annoyance and he took another step towards her. The way his eyes raked over her made her want to shudder in disgust. It was crude - invasive. It left her feeling violated.
"Pretty little mortal thing," he said, leaning dangerously close to her. His eyes still roaming over her features. "It's so peculiar how fleetingly short your lifespan is. I can practically see you aging before my very eyes..."
He reached up as if he were about to brush his knuckles against her cheekbone.
"Are you sure you want to do that?" she asked coolly. "I warned you what would happen if you ever touched me again."
His hand stilled and she watched as his eyes grew dark. She could read it all over his face - the indignity that this mortal dared to threaten him. In a crowd full of onlookers, no less, as if it hadn't been he who approached her.
"You attacked me once," he murmured, only loud enough for her to hear. "And I allowed you to live. Don't make the mistake of thinking such an event will pass for a second time."
" I attacked you ..." Reagan repeated incredulously, staring up at him.
"When I rejected your advances," Halvor confirmed.
"When you--" her own sentence was cut short by a surprised burst of laughter.
The blonde man glowered at her, pure outrage twisting at his features.
"Jesus, you really believe that, don't you? You are batshit insane."
She could see the suppressed rage in him, even as he tried to replace it with a sneer. Every word she spoke made her situation worse. Every jab at him made the interaction more deadly. They both knew it - that she was pushing him. And it was so very reckless but she found that she didn't quite care, she was not about to back down.
"All this false bravado," he muttered. "Parading around like you're untouchable, all because you belong to the trickster."
Reagan's stomach twisted uncomfortably as an image flashed through her mind against her will. Loki's hands on her waist, his face buried in her neck where he lapped at her skin.
Mine... Loki had whispered against her throat.
Yours... she had promised in return.
She forced the thought away even as it caused a wave of heat to flush its way up her neck. Forced herself to focus.
"I don't belong to anyone, Halvor," she said adamantly. "I've told you that before."
"Really?" Halvor sneered at her cruelly, and for a moment she wondered if he'd gleaned that last, treacherous thought from her mind. "You know, we've all heard the rumours that you've been visiting the prince's castle. People say that they've seen you laughing to yourself. Whispering, as if talking to a ghost. They think you carry the dark prince with you. Are you really so sure you don't belong to him?"
Reagan didn't answer, she just stared up at him defiantly, her jaw set.
Mine...
Yours...
"You think you're safe. That you can do whatever you want because of who your master is-"
Reagan bristled at the very idea of this putrid excuse for a man suggesting she had a master.
"-but you forget, he's locked away a thousand feet below us right now. He can't help you."
"I don't need anyone's help to deal with you," she promised, steadily.
Halvor let out a low laugh in response.
"Please... You're weak. You're mortal. All I'd have to do is reach out a hand and I could crush your windpipe with a mere pinch of my fingers. That's all it would take."
Reagan's eyes narrowed.
"Maybe. But that's only if I don't incinerate every last tendon in your hand first. I'll cook your fucking bone marrow, Halvor, before you ever have a chance to lay a finger on me."
He smiled, almost manically.
"So it's a race, then," he murmured, and her heart began to thunder in her chest. Behind him, his friends moved closer.
You're made of fire, she reminded herself as heatwaves began to ascend from her shoulders. It bends to you.
"It's a race," she agreed calmly, gritting her teeth.
The pair eyed each other down - unblinking, unmoving - waiting for the other to so much as hint at making the first draw.
"Oi!" A gruff voice called suddenly, cutting through the tension.
All three of the Asgardian men who towered over her looked towards the owner of the voice. Reagan didn't budge. She couldn't afford to. It came from directly behind her. She kept her eyes trained on Halvor.
A heavy hand suddenly clapped down on her shoulder, rocking her entire body, startling her slightly. She glanced beside her quickly to find another armoured Asgardian. He was unfamiliar to her. A broad man, in heavy-looking armour. Two large matching crescents were tattooed onto his bald head. And though there was something menacing about him, he offered her a warm look.
"There you are," the man said to her lightly, with such genuine familiarity that for a moment he almost fooled her into thinking she should recognise him. "Been saving you a seat. Come on, the others are waiting for us. We don't want to miss anything."
He smiled at her reassuringly before turning his attention to Halvor and the others, as if only just noticing them for the first time. It was only then that his expression darkened slightly.
"Gentleman," he inclined his head to them. "Not interrupting anything important, I hope."
"Not at all," Halvor said coolly, his gaze returning to Reagan once more. "Nothing that can't wait until later."
She returned his icy glare.
"Weren't you competing today, Halvor?" the man beside her asked then, and Reagan noted a certain malice in his tone then. "They just announced your category. Wouldn't want you to miss your prize fight, mate. Heard you placed quite the wager on yourself. Can't let that go to waste."
The stranger kept his hand on Reagan's shoulder. It wasn't a harsh grip, but it was enough for her to realise he was holding her back, silently telling her to refrain from-- well, from whatever she intended to do.
Painfully long seconds passed before Halvor retreated a few steps, still glaring daggers at Reagan, he inclined his head to the others who stood with him and together they turned, disappearing into the thick of the crowd. It wasn't until she could no longer see him at all that Reagan sucked in a deep, steadying breath, willing away the clenching sickness in her stomach.
The stranger's hand, at last, fell away from her shoulder. She looked up at him and he gestured in the other direction - away from Halvor.
"Come on," he muttered. "Let's get out of here before the dickhead changes his mind."
Seeing no better course of action, Reagan allowed the man to steer her through the crowd, intermittently glancing over her shoulder to ensure the blonde had not followed them.
"Thanks for your help," she said at last, wrapping her arms around herself.
"No worries, love," he replied, still surveying the crowd cautiously. "Just keep walking for now. Act natural, yeah?"
"Okay, sure. But, uh... do you mind telling me who you are?"
"The name's Skurge," he told her, glancing in her direction. When he saw the way Reagan watched him expectantly he went on. "I heard that prick saying earlier he was going to rustle up some trouble with you today. When I spotted you together, I thought it was probably best to intercept."
"Well, thanks. I appreciate it," Reagan told him sincerely, though not thoroughly convinced this stranger acted purely out of the goodness of his own heart.
Reagan followed as the man led her through the crowd, noting the way he glanced intermittently over his shoulder, scanned their surroundings, and kept close to her, his hand on his weapon. She kept her eyes trained on him, unsure of whether she was more suspicious of her rescuer or just plain curious.
It wasn't too long before they reached Gungnir Arena. It was an enormous structure. All around it, excitement emanated from the crowds making their way inside. The walls gleamed marble-white, stretching towards the heavens into a cavernous open dome. Like everything in Asgard, the grandeur of the architecture was breathtaking - intricate carvings on every wall depicted legendary warriors and battles throughout Asgard's history. The atmosphere was electric.
Skurge guided Reagan to a stairwell and they journeyed up several flights before he opened another door, holding it and allowing her to step through. She stepped into a large spectator area that looked out over the arena below. Instead of rows of seating, here there were high tables in a large floor space. There was plenty of room to walk around, and the Asgardians there mingled happily. Skurge guided her towards a finely decorated bar lined with hundreds upon hundreds of different bottles filled with liquids of all colours.
"We should be right in here," Skurge told her, as he sidled up to the bar. His demeanour shifted into something a little more casual as he said it. "Halvor usually competes in as many events as he can at this type o' thing. He likes the attention. Won't have time to visit some bar on the off chance he might run into ya."
"What do you want with me?" Reagan asked at last, instead of responding to what he'd just said to her.
She just wanted him to come out with it, whatever it might be.
The corner of Skurge's mouth pulled up into an amused smirk.
"Want the God's honest?" he asked, meeting her eye at last.
"Absolutely."
"Truth is, nothing quite gets me going like putting a damper on that lousy prick's good day."
"Halvor?"
"Yep."
Reagan's brow furrowed.
"...why?"
"Because that weasel owes me so much coin I've well and truly lost count of it."
Skurge offered her a smug smile as if all the pieces should have just fallen perfectly into place for her. She looked at him blankly.
"Okay... and what exactly does that have to do with me? Why would he be telling people he wanted to get a rise out of me? Why today?"
"Fact of the matter is," Skurge explained, still leaning against the bar. He seemed a little distracted as he kept eyeing the barkeep, hoping to catch his attention. "Most of Asgard gets rather excited 'round these types of events. An awful lot of betting goes on. Those bets aren't strictly confined to what's happening down there, in the ring. Your mate, Halvor, placed a wager this mornin' he could get you naked before the events began, said he'd done it before. Said he knew how to rile you up so you'd burn off all your clothes."
Rage bubbled up in her suddenly. That motherfucker.
"I see," Reagan said, trying to remain calm. "He didn't happen to mention how he managed that last time, did he?"
"Course not," Skurge said. "But it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Speaking of, this is ridiculous, I need a bloody drink."
He leaned on the counter and loosed a high-pitched whistle in the direction of the barkeep. That at last seemed to do the trick.
"Six pints, please," he said before he seemed to remember himself. He turned to Reagan. "Where are my manners-- You want one?"
She couldn't stop the amused smile that crept onto her face.
"Sure," she agreed. "Just the one."
"Right--Oi! Make that seven. Ah, fuck it-- eight," he glanced back at Reagan. "I like even numbers."
"Sure," Reagan agreed simply, still trying to get a read on the peculiar man. He was so different to any other Asgardian she'd come into contact with.
The barkeep soon delivered eight startlingly large pints and Reagan reached for one, mildly astounded as Skurge managed to pick up and manoeuvre the remaining seven glasses and make his way over to an unoccupied high table.
Reagan set down her drink and scooted into her seat. They had a view from there down into the centre of the area where the competitors seemed to be preparing their weapons. The crowds below them roared, but the sound was muted, as if magic had been cast to dull to overwhelming sound for the level they were on. When Skurge spoke again, he was perfectly easy to hear over the cries and cheers below.
"Anyway, as I was saying," Skurge continued when he'd successfully situated all seven of his pints safely on the table. "Halvor is a betting man. Thing about him is that he's not an honourable one. Always finding ways to weasel out when it's his turn to cough up. And people seem to let him get away with it cause he has some kind of charm about him. Let's just say it would be my great pleasure today, to ensure he loses a significant amount of coin. And so, I'd like to extend to you my bodyguarding services for the remainder of the Tournament, completely pro bono. I'll be sure to keep that nonce out of your hair so you can enjoy yourself during today's events, and as a result, I'll be able to collect a handsome dividend. Win-win."
She eyed Skurge up and down as he downed his first pint in one go then reached for his next. An amused smirk spread across her features.
"Alright," she agreed calmly, extending her hand for him to shake. "You've got yourself a deal."
He took hold of her hand and shook it enthusiastically.
"Alright then!" He cheered and took a deep swig of his ale. And as she watched this, Reagan had to wonder vaguely how long it might be until the bodyguarding duties fell to her instead, if he was planning to drink like that the entire afternoon. She didn't really mind in all honesty. She found him rather amusing.
"Mind if I ask you something?" Skurge said then, side-eyeing her.
Reagan tensed a little. She'd come to dislike that question being asked of her in Asgard.
"Go ahead," she said tentatively, certain that the conversation was about to turn to Loki and the mark, just as it always inevitably did when she met someone new these days.
"Do Midgardians really carry around little ceilings on sticks to keep the rain off 'em?"
Reagan's eyebrows shot towards her hairline and a genuine smile split across her face. It had been the last question she'd expected. She gaped a little, trying to find the words, deciding then and there she very much liked this strange man who had come to her rescue.
"Oh, you mean umbrellas? Yeah. They're just lightweight fabric though on little metal collapsible frames. They aren't that exciting, honestly."
"Fascinating," Skurge says, somewhat pensively. "I've also heard a myth that you can keep track of your days with just a circle and a couple of sticks?"
Reagan's brow furrowed, confused as she watched him before she realised what he meant.
"You don't have clocks here?"
"Clocks!" he exclaimed. "That's the word. I couldn't think of it. How do they work?"
As Reagan took up a napkin and began to draw a clock face, Skurge leaned in, thoroughly enraptured by the wonky doodle as she explained how a clock face worked and how to read it. She explained how to read it, what the numbers represented, and what each of the hands were for. Skurge couldn't quite contain himself when she told him of the "second" hand, a third, optional hand.
"Amazing," he said, nursing his pint as he spoke. "You mortals boggle my mind. To think that calling it the second hand makes total sense to ya. I've always wanted to go to Midgard. Love the place. It's somewhat of a hobby of mine."
"Your hobby is... Midgard?" Reagan smiled.
Skurge shrugged, not at all self-conscious.
"I like how fast things seem to move there," he explained to her as he took a swig from one of his glasses. "Was only about a thousand years ago, you lot were fighting with spears, now your weapons are catching up with ours."
"Still fighting though," Reagan replied.
Skurge just shrugged.
"That's nothing new. We ain't exactly all gathered here today to watch a bunch of farmers go head to head harvesting their crops now, are we?"
Reagan laughed for a moment but the sound fell short.
She spotted him in the crowd just a second before his eyes fell on her. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably as Fandral lifted a hand and waved her way enthusiastically. He was seated at another high table with some others about twenty feet closer down to the arena. Dread settled in her stomach as she watched him tap a few of his companions on the shoulder and point her way. They all stood, gathering their drinks and making their way towards her.
"Oh, fuck," she muttered under her breath, though she offered the approaching group a fake smile.
Skurge heard it. His eyes flicked suspiciously between Reagan and the approaching Warriors Three.
"You alright?" he murmured to her.
"I'm wonderful," she drawled sarcastically.
There wasn't really much time for an explanation. Reagan watched as Fandral waved someone else over as he approached and was soon joined as well by Lady Sif.
"Ohhh double fuck," Reagan breathed.
"I was beginning to think you were avoiding us," Fandral said cheerily as soon as they were in earshot of each other.
Reagan offered him a tight smile.
"Well, given our last conversation, I thought maybe it was for the best," she replied honestly.
"Oh, nonsense Reagan," Fandral replied. "You're one of us, remember? We've missed your presence at our feasts."
She fought the urge to roll her eyes, noting Sif's ever-stiff demeanour, though she couldn't help but think there was something rather genuine in the way Volstagg grinned at her. She offered him a small, soft smile in return.
"Where's Thor?" she asked, hoping to steer the conversation in a more savoury direction.
"He's currently off-world," Volstagg explained. "Negotiating new treaty agreements on Ria after settling the unrest there."
"Oh, that's a shame. How come you didn't go with him?"
Reagan thought it was an innocent enough question - something to move the conversation along - but from the corner of her eye she saw Sif's gaze on her narrow. As she held back a sigh, she braced herself, knowing exactly what was coming.
"Why do you ask?" Sif shot at her, her voice cold. "Is your little friend listening in, trying to gather information?"
Reagan noted it was probably the longest sentence the other woman had ever spoken to her.
Yay for progress, she joked to herself.
"Yes, should we offer him our regards?" Fandral added as if trying to make a jest of the question.
Reagan clenched her hand under the table to keep herself calm. From the corner of her eye, she saw the way Skurge was studying her, trying to get a read on this peculiar interaction.
"No," she said politely, though there may have been a slight edge to her tone as she forced herself to meet Sif's eye. "No, it seems I finally got the hang of those mental shields I've been working on. So threat neutralised, I guess."
Sif scoffed, right to her face, before turning at walking away.
This time, Reagan didn't even bother to hide her scowl. She'd put up with the other woman's shitty attitude long enough. She crossed her arms over her chest.
"You must excuse her," Fandral said, watching Sif go. "She's not exactly the biggest fan of-"
"Yeah, believe it or not, I picked up on that," Reagan said firmly.
She knew she should keep her cool. She knew getting angry at them wouldn't do her any favours. But she was so sick of hearing them all talk about Loki like he was some monster waiting to strike. He was locked away, a thousand feet below the surface of Asgard-
The very thought of it made her ache.
-why did they have to act like he hadn't been dealt well and truly more than he deserved?
"She has her reasons," Fandral said gently. "You can't forget the things he's done, Reagan."
She forced herself not to huff.
Not to roll her eyes.
She was getting dramatically sick of this broken record.
"He attempted to kill our king, you must remember. And not just Odin, but Thor too. Thor, who is deeply important to all of us. Sif cannot find it in herself to just move on from that."
When Reagan's features remained cold, making it evident she wasn't going to respond, it seemed Fandral felt the need to keep going.
"And not that it really compares but, Loki actually once cut off all of her hair entirely unprovoked-"
A very loud, surprised giggle burst from Reagan then and her hand shot quickly to cover her mouth, in an attempt to suppress it. It was too late, Fandral's gaze on her turned slightly cold, mistrustful. Even Skurge looked mildly perturbed by her reaction, though more out of curiosity than anything.
"Sorry, I'm sorry," Reagan said, hurriedly, trying to compose herself. "I'm so totally sorry. I just... I wasn't expecting that."
She made a mental note to brag to Loki that she totally called it months earlier when she suddenly remembered--
Her mind filled with another flash of his naked body pressing down against hers.
She shut the thought down adamantly for the umpteenth time that day. Man... what was up with her?
Reagan clocked the way her reaction had affected the warriors. Volstagg and Hogun now looked just as suspicious as Fandral. It secretly made her seethe. They'd approached her. She'd been well and truly keeping out of their way, minding her own business. The way they all looked at her now, what gave them the right to be so damn judgemental.
"So, are any of you competing today?" she asked the three, hoping to finally steer the conversation in a new direction. In truth, all she wanted was to just politely say goodbye but Skurge had insisted it was best that they stayed there and so she didn't really see an alternative. Not with his half dozen drinks he still had to get through.
"No, but a great many of our friends are down there today. Many of whom we fought alongside. Bringing peace to Vanaheim. Forcing back the rebellions in Nidavellir. Facing the legions of Jotenheim."
Fandral gave her a sidelong glance. Beside her, Skurge seemed to tense.
"Tell me, do you know much about Jotenheim?" Fandral asked, almost too casually. "Perhaps, happened upon it in your studies yet?"
She hesitated for just a moment. Jotenheim. A planet gifted to her on a night of star gazing. She felt sentimental about it - protective, even - but she was so grateful that the conversation had once again shifted away from Loki that she wasn't going to start squabbling with Fandral over that. She'd keep it secret. Just hers.
And Loki's.
Besides, she still rather enjoyed talking to Fandral when the conversation wasn't centred around the prince. She didn't really want to start a fight.
"I don't know a whole lot," she admitted, lightly. "It's the ice planet, right?"
"Correct. It is a desolate wasteland of frozen rock and frosty winds and darkness. It is a miserable world, nigh uninhabitable by most living things. But it is infested by one particularly vile species, known as the Frost Giants."
Beside her, Skurge shifted somewhat uncomfortably.
"They're not so bad as everyone makes out," he assured her under his breath as if he didn't want anyone else to hear the comment.
"On the contrary," Fandral interjected as he caught it, his gaze resolutely upon Reagan. "They're a violent race, thirsting endlessly for blood. For war. They are a cold species. Legend has it their very hearts are made from ice. Had Odin not battled them back - stopped their endeavours to bring about another ice age to Midgard, your kind would have been wiped out long before Loki ever had his chance to take over."
Behind him, Volstagg nodded grimly in agreement.
"They're a horrid sight to be seen in their true forms. Their skin is grey-blue like waking death, their eyes blood red. Their limbs are often misshapen and many of them grow ghastly bony protrusions so sharp they can carve open flesh. Their very muscles are comprised of ice. Their bones too. Their skulls are so thick with it, that it leaves very little room for their brains. So all they think of is war and destruction. They are beasts shaped like men. No one can trust them. No one is safe around them."
Reagan felt suddenly unsettled under his gaze, the way he leaned into her intensely, the way his voice grew lower and lower as he described the monsters. Perhaps he just had a penchant for dramatic storytelling, Reagan supposed, but gut instinct told her it was something more. Just as she opened her mouth to ask him exactly that, she was interrupted.
"Fandral!" Sif called for him then, and he whipped around to see her waiting for them by one of the exits. "Let's go."
She didn't even spare Reagan a glance. Reagan resisted the urge to shoot her the finger.
Fandral turned back to Reagan with a smile.
"Don't be a stranger, alright? We've missed your presence of late."
He offered a parting bow. Followed by Hogun and then Volstagg, whose smile still seemed the most sincere. She offered him a small one in return.
As she watched the small group of friends retreat Skurge slammed down another empty pint on the table, jarring Reagan's attention back to him.
"Well, that was all rather intense, wasn't it? Come on, then," Skurge said with another friendly clap on her shoulder. "What say we get go get another round?"
Reagan glanced down, astounded to find all seven of the glasses the Asgardian had carried over entirely drained empty.
"You already finished all those?"
"It's the Tournament of the Convergence, love. Gotta celebrate it."
"It's been forty minutes."
"Yeah, well, I'm pacing myself, aren't I?"
"How are you supposed to bodyguard me if you're passed out before noon?" Reagan teased.
Skurge simply threw her a bemused look.
"Relax. What kind of soldier would I be if I couldn't handle my mead?"
As it would turn out, Skurge did have quite a handle on his liquor. He remained steady and watchful - though with each pint he shouted advice down to the competitors just a little louder - and though Reagan drank a mere fraction of what he did, it seemed that she was the one who was growing slightly tipsy. The moment he noticed, Skurge went and found her something to eat that appeared to be made of potatoes.
"Carb up, love," he insisted gently as he set the plate down in front of her, before hurling more abuse down into the ring.
In truth, Reagan was finally enjoying herself. She didn't cross paths with Fandral or the others for the remainder of the day and a few of Skurge's other acquaintances came to join them intermittently. They each sat and made idle chat with her, explaining the rules of the contests unfolding in the ring. Each of them also graciously topped up Skurge's never-ending supply of beer. She laughed along each time, grateful for her new acquaintance.
So much so that she was almost entirely able to ignore the way she missed him.
All in all, Reagan found herself feeling quite relaxed.
Until the contestants were brought forth for the contest of swords.
A chill ran through her when she watched Halvor enter the ring.
"Do these events ever end with a beheading?" she muttered bitterly to Skurge, scowling down at the golden-haired man in the centre of the arena.
"Unfortunately no, they don't," Skurge grunted back. "Don't worry about him. He ain't any trouble to you down there."
As the event went on, it was rather painful to have to acknowledge that Halvor was in fact a rather mighty warrior. He moved with alarming speed and agility, besting a great many of his opponents with ease. With every victory, he seemed to grow all the more confident. With each win, the crowd cheered all the more adoringly. Slowly, the realisation began to dawn upon Reagan just how much trouble she would have been in that day if Loki hadn't saved her. And more than that, how much Loki had downplayed the strength of the other man so that she would not have to be afraid.
She so sorely wanted to talk to him.
Back in the ring, Halvor brought his final opponent to his knees and delivered his "killing" blow, stilling his strike just millimetres away from being fatal. As the crowd all around her erupted into cheers and applause, Halvor lifted his eyes to stare into the sea of audience members. Thousands upon thousands of people. And his eyes fell upon her. She glowered back at him. Halvor smiled.
Notes:
Let the record show that I absolutely adore Skurge, I think he is incredibly underrated and I'm going to make it everyone's problem.
Sorry Loki isn't in this one much. It turned out longer than I expected and I've had to split it into two, so he'll be back in the next instalment.
Feedback is adored, even if it's to yell at me for the cheap trick at the start of this chap :P but can you imagine? It has to be the worst possible outcome of someone reading your mind.
I love you all. More soon <3
Chapter 19
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"So, you're really not going to ask?" Reagan said to Skurge as they strolled alongside one another in the cool evening breeze. "You don't want to know what that whole standoff was with Fandral and the others earlier?"
They were making their way back towards the palace. After the tournament events had ended and the competition had come to an end, Skurge had insisted on hanging back for one final round of drinks and so the crowd had long since thinned to just a few stragglers when the pair finally look their leave. It was rather nice to be walking along alone after spending the day so thoroughly surrounded by a sea of people. It was a peaceful evening and Reagan finally felt like the morning's tension that had coiled up so tightly within her after her run-in with Halvor was allowed to unfurl at last.
Skurge, as Reagan's bodyguard, had insisted he needed to make sure she got safely back to her chambers. Despite the way his face was rosy from mead and the slight stumble in his step, he insisted he was on full alert and ready to defend her at a moment's notice. She was more than a little sceptical about that but was enjoying his company nonetheless.
"Ain't really none of my business, love," Skurge shrugged simply in response to her question. "I mean, it doesn't take a genius to figure out it had something to do with the Prince but... it all seemed a little unnecessary to me if I'm honest."
Reagan stepped up onto the edge of a garden bed that ran alongside the path they were travelling down. She extended her arms out to her sides, taking balanced steps along the paving stones as Skurge stumbled along happily on the pathway beside her.
"They weren't always like that with me," Reagan confided. "I think they liked me at first- well, most of them. Sif never did. But they used to be nicer to me, back when I didn't... they don't like that I like him. That we're friends now."
Reagan slowed to a stop and Skurge turned back towards her to find her gazing off into the distance, lost in thought. He took a slow step towards her. The sound of his heavy footfall seemed to shake her from her trance and she looked down at him. A complex wash of emotions played on her features.
"Loki's not what everyone thinks he is," she told him quietly. "I understand why they don't trust him - why they don't like him. I didn't either."
She dropped his gaze and Skurge didn't respond. He just waited, giving her time to form her thoughts. She appreciated him for that. She had appreciated him for a great many things today, and there was just something about him that made her want him to understand. She didn't want him to think of Loki like the rest of them did.
"I... hated him, when I first met him," Reagan admitted. "After everything that happened. Everything I'd seen. It was all just black and white. He was this evil, heartless thing. Simple as that. He was something that happened to me. But Loki... there's so much more to him. There's so much to him. He's in the shades of grey. He's complex. And there is bitterness in him but..."
Reagan trailed off for a moment, shaking her head, not quite sure how to put it into words - not sure if she could.
"Being in his head - being forced to be around him. Learning who he really is - the him he tries to hide from everyone else. He's not this terrible monster that everyone thinks he is. He's just..."
"I feel like what you're trying to say to me here is that dark prince o' yours is actually sort of... nice?"
"Wha- nice? No." Reagan couldn't hold back laughter at the very idea. "No. No, definitely not."
The corner of Skurge's mouth lifted in amusement at her reaction.
"But he's patient," Reagan said softly, gentle affection lacing the words. "And he's perceptive and thoughtful. He cares, even though he tries to hide it, he does. And he'd hate that I'm telling you that because it's like he thinks it's a weakness. And he pretends to be so confident but he thinks he's less than he really is... And he is so fucking funny. And fun. And when he forgets that he's trying so hard to keep up this cold, hateful mask for all the world to see, and it slips away, he's warm and gentle and... I think I can trust him... I think I trust him."
Reagan trailed off, those last few words were murmured so softly. As if more for herself than for Skurge. He studied her, lost in her own thoughts, her gaze unfocused. Almost as if she didn't even realise she was doing it, her hand came up to wrap protectively around her forearm, over the mark forever hidden beneath her sleeve.
"That mark o' yours," Skurge said at last, gesturing to her forearm.
She glanced over at him, her eyes meeting his.
"There's a whole lot of people with a whole lot of opinions about it," he went on. "I'm sure you've heard it all by now. Thing is, we all grew up on tales about the marks. All grew up secretly hoping we might be the ones who were chosen for it. I think because of that, people feel involved. Like they're entitled to it, know what I mean? Like they get a weigh-in about the whole situation."
Reagan nodded slowly.
"Thing is, they're wrong. It's of no one else's concern except yours and his. It's ancient magic, Reagan. More powerful than Odin himself. So none of us get a say about who deserves what. About how it goes. And for anyone to act like the two of you shouldn't even like each other? They've got no right."
She looked up once more to meet his eye.
"So you just pay 'em no mind, alright?"
Reagan smiled at him gently, warm appreciation blooming in her chest for this gruff, half-drunk, tattooed man in his slightly bulky armour. She held out her hand to him and he took it, helping her down from the ledge of the garden bed.
"I used to be so ashamed of it," she said softly.
"Used to be," Skurge repeated. "And how about now?"
Reagan quieted as she considered the question before looking up at him and answering earnestly.
"No," she said at last. "No, I don't think I am."
"Then to Hel with the rest of 'em."
Reagan smiled again and the pair once again fell into step, heading in the direction of the castle. It wasn't long before Skurge broke the silence that had settled between them once more.
"Just out of curiosity... what Lady Sif said, 'bout him listening in?"
"Yeah?"
"He listening now?" And for once the question didn't sound like an accusation.
"No," Reagan breathed out a long sigh, steeling herself. Perhaps it was all the mead, perhaps it was just that she felt comfortable around him, but she decided to tell Skurge the horrifying truth of it. "No, he is currently ignoring my existence because last night he caught me having an incredibly graphic sex dream about him."
"Oh my--"
Evidently, it was the very last thing the man had been expecting her to say. Reagan watched as Skurge's eyes blew wider than dinner plates before he doubled over clutching at his armoured sides, positively howling with laughter.
"Shut up..." Reagan whined, even as she found his infectious laughter got the better of her and she giggled along with him.
"I'm sorry, love," Skurge said, swiping at a tear in the corner of his eye. "But I don't envy you at all. I'd sooner walk over hot coals than have someone look inside my head and see something like that."
"Yeah, me too," she grumbled. "I can actually do that."
"Show off."
Reagan threw him an incredulous look.
"Can I just remind you I watched you drink forty-eight pints of beer today?"
"Forty-nine," he corrected, "And you kept up alright."
"I had four. Over seven hours."
Skurge shrugged.
"Either way, I considered it a pretty good effort. 'Specially for a mortal."
Reagan's smile faded slowly as her thoughts inevitably drifted back to those god-forsaken images filled her mind once more.
"I thought he'd make fun of me about it," she told Skurge. "I mean, that's our system. One of us does something even mildly embarrassing and the other one gets to roast them relentlessly. We do it about... well, everything. But instead, this time he shut me out. I think- I think maybe he's grossed out by it or something."
Skurge scoffed at that.
"Come on. Now you're just being ridiculous."
"He thinks Midgardians are beneath him," Reagan insisted. "He's outright said it. A lot. A lot."
"Reagan," he threw her a sidelong glance. "You're his soulmate. He's a man. And he has a perfectly functioning pair of eyes. Believe me, love, you have nothin' to worry about."
You're his soulmate.
She glanced at him with a sly smirk.
"Are you calling me pretty, Skurge?" Reagan teased, grateful for the opportunity to deflect a concept she was absolutely not ready to face just yet.
"I'm doing no such thing," Skurge insisted quickly and adamantly, going slightly rigid. "I may not be the sharpest blade in the battalion but I'm not stupid enough to try and make a pass at Loki fucking Odinson's soulmate. Do me a favour and make sure he's crystal clear on that if it comes up, yeah?"
Reagan laughed.
"Okay, will do."
"I mean it."
"I will."
"Alright... but if I get turned into a slug anytime in the near future I'm going to be fucking livid at ya."
When the pair at last reached Reagan's rooms she turned to him once more.
"Thank you for helping me today, Skurge," she said sincerely. "I'm really glad that I met you."
"It was my absolute pleasure, love. Like I said, anything to get a rise outta that toenail is a real thrill. And I don't mind admitting I had quite a good time in your company."
"I had fun too. You're pretty fucking cool, you know? Probably the coolest dude I've met in all of Asgard, actually."
"And I take it being the 'coolest dude' is a good thing?"
She smiled widely.
"It's a very good thing."
"Well, alright then. In that case, you're a pretty cool dude too," Skurge smirked, offering her somewhat of a bow. "And if you are ever in need of my services again, I'd be more than happy to call myself your bodyguard again. Day or night, alright?"
"How about bodyguard slash friend?"
Skurge slapped his heavy, armoured hand down rather affectionately on her shoulder.
"Sounds good to me, love."
Much later that night when quiet had settled throughout the city and a midnight breeze swept through the open window, Reagan lay in her bed in the soft glow of the crackling fireplace. She held up her bare forearm in the light of the fire and studied the mark there - its iridescent hues shifting in the firelight. For so long she'd avoided even looking at it, hidden it away beneath her clothes. She'd pretended it wasn't even there, denied that it was so impossibly beautiful... denied what it meant.
It was then that she finally - finally - sensed the vaguest whisper of him. It was just a moment. Just a fleeting brush against the bond, as if he were secretly checking to see that she was still there.
Reagan froze when she felt it, but as soon as she felt him retreating she reached out for him. Eagerly. Too eagerly, she knew it was. But she wanted... she wanted to see him. Slowly she sat up in bed as she sensed the way he stilled at her presence along the bond, stuck in between staying and going. It was a strange moment - hesitant - as if they'd each been caught staring when they shouldn't have been.
Reagan's heart rate jumped as she waited.
Loki? she asked softly.
And just like that, as she pressed gently against his shield, letting him know she was there. She felt it melt away under her touch.
When her presence entered her mind once more, she forgot the dread of facing him for just a moment, because as his presence returned to her a tightness that she hadn't even realised had settled in her chest slowly eased. She felt like she could breathe deeply again. Reagan hid the thought from him, buried it down with desperate determination, along with a strange and fleeting desire to cry.
She closed her eyes, forcing herself not to smile when his calm, velvety voice sounded inside her mind.
So, did you enjoy yourself at the Tournament today?
It was strange. He was supposed to be there with her. They'd discussed it; how she'd let him watch the tournament through her eyes so that he wouldn't miss out on the events. She'd actually been looking forward to it, knowing all too well how many ridiculous opinions he'd make known to her about everyone and everything there. But then her stupid, good-for-nothing brain had double-crossed her and allowed him to see the most mortifying thing imaginable. And so he'd been denied it after all. Guilt swept through her at the realisation.
But Loki's presence seemed so calm now. Casual, even. As if he was pretending that had never been the case, that he hadn't seen what he'd seen. And Reagan decided that if Loki was going to show mercy and act like there wasn't an enormously horny elephant in the room, well, she wasn't going to press her luck.
"I did, actually," she answered with false confidence, pretending that everything was fine. "I ended up having a really great day. There are some serious warriors in Asgard. Like, they really know what they're doing."
Loki let out a low chuckle.
So, you finally see why I 'bang on' about how inferior Midgardians are as you so eloquently put it?
"I mean, yeah. You know how much I hate to admit it when you're right but some of what I saw today was just straight-up amazing," she agreed a little too eagerly and cringed, certain that he could read exactly what she was trying to cover up. "Like, we have this guy named Mike Tyson, and then there's Natasha, and that's about it as far as I know."
She projected herself into his cell then and the sight of him swept the air from her lungs as fragments of her dream came flooding back to her with alarming force. He sat there, reclined on his bed, a book resting on his lap, one ankle casually crossed over the other. Those piercing eyes of his were already upon her. Reagan couldn't help but let her gaze sweep over his high cheekbones, the arch of his brows that held so much of his expression, that devastatingly sharp jawline. Her heart fluttered and she willed it to be still. She cursed the little flip her stomach did when she met his gaze last and he offered her a small, affectionate smile.
But then a calm washed over her, as if the sight of him were something soothing and just for a moment, all the worry that had coiled up inside her about facing him again melted away.
"Hi," she smiled gently.
"Hello there," he murmured back.
Reagan took her place at the end of his bed and launched into a recount of her day. With careful avoidance of any mention of Halvor, she told him all about the day's events; the tests of strength, spear throwing, the sword events. She let images of the most entertaining swirl down the bond so that Loki could experience them for himself. He laughed along with her as she explained in painstaking detail her favourite parts - the fumbles.
And she couldn't help but notice that all the while though, Loki was quiet. He kept looking at her like... well, she couldn't quite figure out what it was, exactly. She willed herself to believe she was imagining it. To push on. If she could do that then perhaps Loki would relax and start acting like his usual, annoying self again.
It was only when Reagan made mention of her newly found friendship with Skurge, and the frankly startling amount of ale he was able to consume, that she finally managed to coax something out of Loki that she was far more familiar with. As she allowed him to see a very select few of their interactions, Loki scowled.
"I can't believe you," he said suddenly, a certain malice in his voice.
"What?" she asked, genuinely stunned by the change in him.
"You actually had the audacity to call him the coolest dude in all of Asgard?"
Reagan studied him for a moment, pleased to see he looked genuinely affronted by the idea.
"Yeah, so?" she said all too innocently. "What's wrong with that?"
"Well, what am I?"
"A big, huge dork. I've told you that like a hundred times. Don't you ever listen?"
Loki scowled again but that only made Reagan grin all the more.
"Say 'dude' again," she insisted gleefully.
"No."
"Please?"
"No. It felt disgusting. I hated it."
"I know," Reagan leaned towards him just a little. "But I didn't."
Loki looked up to meet her hopeful gaze and absolutely glowered. He crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest as he slumped back against his headboard, glaring daggers into the corner of his cell.
"Dude," he all but snarled the word, giving Reagan the distinct impression that he was trying to sound menacing.
She laughed delightedly.
"One more time."
"No."
Loki propped his foot on her thigh and half-heartedly attempted to push her off the bed. Much to his dismay, she remained positioned happily in place rather than in an embarrassing pile on the floor.
"If you're going to insist upon being this insufferable tonight then why don't you run along and bother this Skurge of yours instead, seeing as you love him so much," he grumbled.
Reagan tilted her head, smiling.
"Loki... Don't go getting jealous just because I'm making friends with the other kids. You don't have anything to worry about, I still like you better, okay?"
She was only teasing him, they both knew it, but Reagan didn't miss the way he had to fight off the tug at the corner of his lips.
But then Loki's brow furrowed as if a thought had occurred to him.
"What did you mean by 'bodyguard'?" he asked, his gaze settling upon her once again. "Why did you call him that?"
Reagan did actually stiffen a little at that. And he felt it - her hesitation. The way she worked to conceal something from him.
"Oh, it's nothing. I-uh..."
Loki sat up slowly, leaning towards her. He could feel the unease rising in her. He wasn't the cause, but she didn't want to show him the truth of it. Something - someone - had made her... afraid. Loki darkened, any jesting in him all but vanished.
"What happened?" he asked her calmly. Too calmly.
"It's nothing," she insisted.
"Reagan-"
"Loki, it wasn't a big deal."
"Did someone hurt you?"
"No," she assured him. "Nothing like that."
"Then what is it?"
"Look, I just... I just had a little run-in with Halvor again, okay?" she admitted at last. "But it was nothing. I had it under control. And Skurge saw what was happening and intercepted then kept an eye out for me the rest of the day, that's how I met him. It really wasn't a big deal."
She made the mistake of meeting his eye and her breath swept from her lungs. His gaze bored into her, intense, trying to read her expression, as if he didn't already have access to her mind.
"Are you alright?" he asked gently. His tone was so vastly contrasted with the tension she could feel radiating down the bond.
"I'm fine."
"Show me what happened."
"Loki, it's not-"
"Reagan, please, don't torment me. I have to know."
Reagan met his gaze for a few moments more before she sighed in defeat and relented. She let the memory slip past her barrier and waited as Loki let his mind brush gently against hers. Reagan almost winced as she watched him inspect the memory, watching it unfold. Every second his features grew harder. Every word spoken, world-ending rage grew within him.
All I'd have to do is reach out a hand and I could crush your windpipe with a mere pinch of my fingers.
Loki froze.
"He threatened to--"
It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before - pure energy suddenly exploded out of him. Pure, liquid-hot rage. It filled the cell and set every last one of her nerves on edge. It was searing, and oppressive and impossibly - impossibly - dark.
Reagan leapt up and staggered back from him suddenly, her eyes widening as she took in the startling display of power.
Terror gripped her, shallowing out her breath and causing her heart rate to spike rapidly.
She'd forgotten.
She had heard tale after tale. The endless warnings. She'd seen him in New York. And still, she'd grown so comfortable around him that she'd forgotten that he was a being of unimaginable power.
The instant Loki felt her fear he froze. He whipped around, his focus on her.
Panicked.
The force of his power swept from the room almost instantly.
As it if was all sucked back inside a black hole.
The two of them stood in the emptiness it left in its wake, staring at each other, both equally shocked.
Loki watched her wide-eyed, his features paling. She felt the regret that filled him instantly - the way it washed out the rage. He held his hands up placatingly, forcing his powers to dissipate as quickly as physically possible.
"Forgive me," he all but begged her.
She just stared at him, trying to catch her breath.
Loki opened his mind to her, wider than he ever had - showing her too much. Far too much. But in that moment he didn't care, not so long as it allowed her to understand.
She wasn't really there, he'd known that - he was always all too aware that she wasn't really there. If she had been, he never would have allowed himself to lose control like that. But his powers couldn't hurt her. She'd never been in danger. He couldn't hurt her - wouldn't hurt her.
But still, he needed her to know that he hadn't meant to frighten her.
He'd forgotten she hadn't seen it. She'd never experienced the worst of him. He was so used to her presence in his mind. She'd seen so much of the ugly parts of him and accepted them for what they were, he'd forgotten she didn't know of his darkness.
"Reagan..."
He said it pleadingly.
He wanted so desperately to reach for her - to calm her - but he feared that his touch would do more harm than good. He'd done so much damage already today, he didn't want to make it worse.
"I'm sorry," he breathed.
He watched the way her chest moved as she tried to calm her breathing. She watched him, unblinking, her stance so evident that she wanted to run from him.
He was all too aware of the fact that she could disappear at any moment. Put her shields in place. Separate herself from him.
He prayed to all the forces of the universe that she wouldn't.
He just wanted a chance to undo it.
"Are you alright?" he asked gently as he felt her retreat back into her own mind, keeping the painfully large distance between them, hoping it was enough to make her feel safe.
The few seconds that she didn't respond to him felt like a lifetime, but then mercifully, she nodded. Though she still eyed him guardedly.
"Please, forgive me," Loki murmured gently. "You have to know-- Reagan, wouldn't-- I- I could never..."
She nodded again, understanding, her heart still thundering. But her features shifted slightly. Softened. And though she still looked guarded, she stayed and took a slow small step back towards him. And that small gesture alone... it was almost enough to bring him to his knees.
"I know," she murmured. "I know that."
She looked up at him earnestly.
"I'm so sorry I frightened you," he whispered, and he had to ball his hand into a tight fist to stop himself from reaching out to touch her.
"It's okay," she assured him, and though she was still visibly rattled, she took a few steps closer to him again.
She wrapped her arms around herself, and it took all his willpower not to allow himself to take hold of her and draw her to him. To hold her against him, clutch her to his chest and keep her safe from all the world. He resigned himself to only gaze down at her instead.
"I would hate to be Halvor right now, though," she told him, in a weak attempt to make a joke. She gave a feeble smile. Her eyes flicked to meet him and then away again, slightly self-conscious.
Loki offered her a gentle smile as he concealed his next thought from her.
Yes. Yes, you would.
"I wish you had called for me," Loki admitted in a whisper.
He sounded so pained in that moment that all Reagan wanted to do was to reach for him. She didn't allow herself.
"Loki," she said gently, offering up a sympathetic look. "You couldn't have done anything..."
She didn't say it unkindly, but it was an ugly truth. She all too well that he would have had to watch, through her eyes, locked away in his cell... He wouldn't have been able to do anything. He would have just had to watch if that sonofabitch had--
"I didn't want to make you feel..."
"Useless," Loki finished for her, his jaw twitching in
"Helpless," she corrected gently.
Loki cast his gaze down, nodding solemnly. He didn't have a response to that
"I'm okay," she assured him once more. "And the rest of the day was really fun. Even if I maybe kind of just a tiny eensy weensy little bit missed having you around."
She smirked up at him and when she finally caught his eye, Loki could help but to soften a little as he returned the smile.
"Tell me more," he insisted gently.
They fell back into a comfortable recount of the day, and though it took a while for her to seem truly at ease again, Reagan spoke animatedly about every last detail she could remember. She rambled on and teased and poked fun. On and on she went, until she was certain she'd have nothing left to talk about, but still she kept going because the more time that passed, the more she felt the bitterness in Loki slowly - slowly - seeping away until he looked at her softly, the rage truly seeping away. And slowly but surely, it became comfortable again. And even as she spoke, Reagan couldn't help but to watch the way Loki watched her. Something in his eye, as he looked at her, reminded her of another image of him - of him gazing down at her as he lay her against his pillows, his hair falling around his face, pupils blown wide before he leaned in and--
"Oh, and Fandral was actually telling me about the Frost Giants," she said suddenly, reaching for something - anything - in a desperate attempt to distract herself. "They're pretty messed up, right?"
Loki stiffened.
Reagan blanched, praying that she'd imagined it.
"But to be fair, if you lived on a freezing cold ice planet, living off nothing but frozen fish, you'd generally be in a pretty bad mood all the time too, don't you think?"
Still, he didn't respond.
Relax, she told herself. He can't have seen it. You shielded it. Everything is fine.
"Actually that's a bad example. You're already generally always in a bad mood," she teased.
Loki didn't take the bait.
Instead, he stood suddenly from the bed, moving to face away from her. She turned to watch him, nervously. He clasped his hands behind his back as he peered out of the cell. There was a rigidity to his posture. Tension coiled through him.
"Loki?" Reagan asked, tentatively.
He didn't answer her immediately, and she waited for him, uncertain.
"So I take it they told you?" he asked at last.
Her brow furrowed in sudden confusion.
"Told me what?"
Loki turned back to study her then, tension in his features, certain of what he would read upon her face, but she only stared back at him blankly.
"Nothing," he relented at last. "Forget it."
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine."
"But you're acting weird..."
When Loki didn't answer- when he avoided her gaze - she thoroughly deflated. He'd seen the stray thought. Seen her thinking about it. And his gracious attempt at ignoring the horrid images he'd witnessed had, at last, come to an end.
"Oh, God. You saw, didn't you?" she groaned then, feeling ill, and brought her hands up to hide her face from him. "You saw me thinking about it? The dream?"
For a second time, Loki froze. He couldn't quite find it in himself to turn to face her.
"Okay," Reagan groaned, steeling herself. Her hands still shielded her from his view. "Go ahead. Just get it over with."
She was met with a few beats of agonising silence. But, when he did speak, Reagan was surprised to find that Loki sounded even more mortified than she did.
"That dream-- whatever you thought you saw; there's no need for you to look at it as anything more than it was. A dream."
Reagan stilled. She hadn't expected that. Slowly, she lifted her face out of her hands hesitantly, to peer his way. He was nervous, she realised. Loki was nervous.
"You have to understand," he went on, tension lacing every word. "I've not really come into contact with many other people in quite some time now, not since being confined to the dungeons. You're the person I spend the most time interacting with - speaking with. Your mind is linked to mine. It's inevitable that you'll slip into my unconscious from time to time. But what you saw-"
"Oh..." Reagan whispered as realisation dawned on her.
Those images.
They hadn't belonged to her.
She'd been so busy worrying about what he'd think of her, so mortified about what his reaction would be that she hadn't even considered-
She looked up at him at last, meeting his hesitant stare, and was surprised to find that he had to cast his gaze away from her.
He loosed a breath, uncomfortable.
Sympathy swelled in her chest.
"Loki..."
Reagan wasn't sure what she wanted to say, but Loki spoke again before she had a chance to even gather the thought.
"If you'll allow me to be pathetically honest with you," he said, and Reagan found it rather hard to breathe.
She had no idea what he was going to say next - what she wanted him to say next.
"You are the dearest friend I've had in a very long time," Loki admitted, softly. "And as much as I might pretend as though it's untrue, you've come to be truly important to me. I enjoy your companionship. And the idea of compromising that is... unpleasant. And so I ask that you please just grant me mercy... just this once and pretend you never saw what you saw. Because truly, Reagan, it didn't mean anything."
Reagan swallowed as she stared up at him - the way he still couldn't meet her eye. She was so unused to seeing vulnerability in him - with something so close to desperation in the way he pleaded with her, all the while trying to maintain that calm, collected demeanour he always worked so hard to project. She knew how badly he hated to be seen... feeling . She knew how it made him feel weak. No matter how it had started, she hated that it was because of her. She wanted to fix it. Undo it. She found herself wishing that the dream had been hers after all - that he could tease her about it mercilessly. That he could feel comfortable again. She found herself wishing...
"It's forgotten," she promised gently, genuine kindness in her voice.
And she so desperately wanted to mean it. He'd done so much for her, she truly wanted to be able to do that for him in return. Grant him his one single request.
And still, when she spoke, Loki - God of Lies - knew an untruth when he heard one.
Notes:
Exams? Done.
Chapter 19? Done.
Joining the 100k word club? *SOOOO* close!I hope you enjoyed, my lovelies! I'm all freed up now so much more to come and those updates will be coming hard and fast!
Love you
<3
Chapter 20
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was complicated, in the days that followed their conversation about the dream. Reagan tried as best she could to behave naturally around Loki but there was now an excited sort of nervousness that gripped her every time she so much as glanced in his direction. Visions of their intertwined bodies filled her mind relentlessly. The harder she tried to think about anything - anything - else, the more those images seemed to assault her. And so she spent a great deal of her time shielding her thoughts from him in a way that she'd never had to before.
And Loki, well, he was now unbearably tense whenever she was around. He tried his best to hide it, holding up that calm, suave demeanour of his that would have had Reagan fooled if she hadn't learned to read him so well. She could see the tension in his shoulders that he couldn't quite ease, the way his eyes were so guarded, even though he'd force himself to hold her gaze. It was as if he were readying himself for an attack. As though she were some sort of time bomb that might explode on him at any moment, not a matter of if but when . She didn't understand it.
Part of her thought that perhaps she should just leave him be for a few days - give him some space. But this weakness had developed in her, one that left her craving even a few seconds in his company, and so she couldn't resist her visits to his cell. And though this strange tension in him didn't ease, she felt the way he welcomed her company in return, even down the bond which they now both kept so shielded from one another. Whenever she did project into his cell, he always offered her his full attention. If she was elsewhere, and she sensed his presence, it felt as if he were testing, tentatively, to see if she'd do the same. She granted it to him every time.
And so they each tried to ignore this new distance between them that neither of them quite understood. Which meant, mercifully, here and there, they did manage a few moments where the tension eased and they achieved some form of normalcy - well, normal for them, that is. And on the morning of the approaching ball to celebrate the Convergence, they achieved one such moment.
"Something just occurred to me," Reagan mused. "It's probably not great that I'm attending a ball tonight when I don't know how to dance, huh?"
Loki glanced over at her, genuinely perplexed.
"You didn't learn to dance growing up?" he asked.
Reagan threw him a quizzical look in return.
"No, why would I?"
"Thor and I had lessons twice a week as children. It's so alien to think that you didn't."
"Oh, alright, your majesty," Reagan replied, rolling her eyes.
"You know, that actually is my correct title. You don't have to saturate it in sarcasm."
She snorted.
"I do when you're bragging about your childhood dance classes, butthead."
"It's not uncommon for Asgardian children to learn to dance," Loki said, a little defensively. "Don't forget that I was also tutored in all manner of spellwork and how to wield a blade."
"Uh-huh. And was that in amongst your equestrian and etiquette lessons?" she asked, equally sarcastic.
"Yes, actually."
"Ugh, I always forget how rich you are," she muttered, folding her arms. "It's by far my least favourite thing about you."
Loki weighed her up for a few moments before he smirked at her.
"And what's your favourite thing about me?"
Reagan's expression shifted with over-dramatized thoughtfulness as she considered the question for a moment.
"Oh, I know!" she said at last, rather decidedly. "I really like the way you say rhubarb."
"...I beg your pardon?"
"You kind of pronounce the 'h' in it a little bit. I've never heard anyone else do that before. It's cute."
Loki stared at her for a few moments, scandalised.
"Are you being serious?"
"Yeah."
"Your favourite thing about me - out of everything - is the way I pronounce the word 'rhubarb'?"
"Yep."
"You are the strangest person I've ever met."
Reagan just smiled.
"Is that your favourite thing about me?" she challenged.
"Well, I suppose I certainly can't say it's your dance skills, can I?"
"I know some dances," she assured him. "But somehow I don't think the Macarena is going to be appropriate for tonight."
"What's the Macarena?" He asked the question as if he already knew to dread the answer.
"Oh, I'm so glad you asked. It goes a little something like this," Reagan said as she leapt to her feet and began to demonstrate.
She was less than a quarter of the way through the movements when Loki held up a hand, cutting her off.
"Stop," Loki said, adamantly. "Forever. Stop that."
"So, you see my point," she concluded as she slumped back down into her chair.
"Unquestionably so."
Reagan laughed just a little before quiet settled between them. It was not their regular quiet - the comfortable sort where they were just used to being in each other's presence. Instead, this silence was heavy - painful, almost. Reagan wished so desperately to undo it.
"I could teach you," Loki suggested then, quietly.
She glanced his way.
"Teach me?"
"To dance," Loki clarified. "If that were something you were interested in."
In an instant, a flash of her hand trailing down his naked torso filled her mind's eye, and panic swept through her gut.
To stand that close to him - even if she couldn't feel the warmth of his skin - to have his arm wrapped around her, to be pressed up against his hard body, his intense green eyes gazing down at her, close enough to--
She cut the thought short.
Bad idea.
Definitely a bad idea.
"Oh, that's okay," she said gently, trying to sound casual about it. "I think we both know I'd only end up stepping on your feet."
She laughed a little, uncomfortably.
Reagan glanced away just in time to miss the expression that swept over Loki's features and the way he let his gaze drop from her toward the ground as if once again measuring this newly established distance between them.
Loki was lounging in his regular place against the headboard of his bed. Reagan, however, was seated in an armchair in the far corner of the cell.
She'd taken to sitting there for the past few days rather than on the bed beside him, thinking it was safer.
Safer from what? She wasn't sure exactly. Maybe her own sinful thoughts. Maybe because of this discomfort she sensed in him. Either way, the space seemed to stretch out between them for miles. And now that she'd put that distance there, she didn't know how to close it. She didn't know how to allow herself to be closer to him again.
Not when Loki seemed so on edge, still all but flinching at the very sight of her.
She hated it.
She wanted him back to normal.
She wanted herself back to normal.
She wanted--
God, that stupid fucking dream had ruined her life.
If there were some kind of tonic she could take to erase it from her mind she would positively gargle it, without hesitation.
She worked hard to remind herself of what Loki had said - that it meant nothing. Nothing. He'd insisted that was the case, that it was a slip of the subconscious and nothing more.
And so she forced herself to pretend that's all it was.
She'd even stopped herself from disclosing the little tidbit she'd learned about him and Sif. She'd wanted to poke fun at it so desperately, to pretend that her interest in the incident was strictly for the purpose of her own amusement.
But then, she'd known exactly what he would have said.
Is that a hint of jealousy I detect?
Yes. She would have had no choice but to answer. Jesus Christ, yes.
Reagan was growing slightly exhausted from keeping so much of her mind shielded from him at all times now, but she saw no other choice. She couldn't let him know how thought-consuming those images had become to her. She couldn't let him see the confused emotions that battled on inside of her 24/7 of late.
She was so tense around him.
Loki loathed it.
The way her smiles seemed so forced.
The way she sat on the opposite side of the cell to him, with as much distance in between them as physically possible.
He hadn't meant to show her the force of his powers. He hadn't wanted to remind her of the evil that lurked inside of him. But he'd made a mistake - a monumental one. And he'd revealed the truth of himself to her. He'd seen it in her eyes- the damage he had done. She'd looked at him differently then. She was tense and guarded and he hated himself for it.
She was hiding it from him - her shields being held almost permanently in place were evidence enough of that. He was proud of her for the progress she'd made, even though their plan to establish permanent blocks against the bond seemed - until recently - to have all but been abandoned. Loki didn't peak. Not once. Not even when she slept and in unconsciousness, her barriers fell away. Her mind opened up to him in those moments like a blooming flower and still he denied the temptation. He wouldn't invade her privacy like that no matter how badly he wished to. Not her. He loathed himself now for having done it in the past. He wouldn't do it again, not when he'd, at last, earned her trust - however fleeting that was to be.
To learn that Fandral was dangling his most hideous secret right before her, ripe for the taking, it had pushed him to somewhat of a breaking point. It was only a matter of time before this companionship he'd somehow managed to build with her unravelled altogether.
She hadn't figured it out yet. But it wouldn't be long.
He was on borrowed time with her.
He knew it.
And so, all the rage and bitterness and hatred in him that the past few months had seemed to quell was slowly rising in him again like a waking dragon, and the peace that seemed to be replacing it all but evaporated. He concealed it from her with all the might he had - he didn't want to ruin what little time he had left with her. He was painfully aware of just how easily he could self-sabotage right now. He wanted... just this once, he didn't want to push her away.
And still, he loathed himself for his weakness. For allowing himself to grow attached to her. How had he forgotten himself and allowed hope where it didn't belong?
It had been so stupid of him.
But that infuriating little mortal of his. She'd made it so impossible for him not to adore her.
It had been effortless.
And these past months with her... It was far from what he truly desired, and yet it was so much more than he'd ever imagined he'd be granted, even if it were already drawing to its conclusion.
After all, fate had never been particularly fond of him.
She was trying so hard, too. He knew she was. As if she also recognised the curtain call though she may not have understood the reason why just yet.
And so as he watched her leap to her feet and do the most ridiculous dance he'd ever bared witness to, his heart clenched almost painfully.
"I could teach you," he offered, against his better judgement.
The desire to be close to her - to hold her one more time - got the better of him. Even as he knew what an unfathomably bad idea it was.
And, of course, she'd rejected the offer - kept that distance between them. And worse, still, she was so kind about it as if that was something he deserved.
"I should go," Reagan said at last, and Loki cursed the way he let himself believe there was something of reluctance in her voice like she didn't truly want to leave. "Lots to do to get ready for tonight."
"Run along then," he said, a little too dismissively.
He winced inwardly at the harshness in his own tone.
"Enjoy yourself tonight, mortal," he tried once more to sound a little gentler.
Reagan studied him for a moment - looked as though she wanted to say something more - but instead, she only offered him one last smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and soon her projection faded into nothingness.
Loki closed his eyes, allowing his head to fall back with a muted 'thud' against the wall.
He fought against the ache in his chest, the want - fought back the useless desire to follow her.
After shooting halfway across the galaxy in a matter of mere seconds, Skurge found himself standing inside the dome of the newly rebuilt Bifrost. The battle of Vanaheim against invading marauders had drawn to a rather abrupt conclusion when Thor had arrived and defeated the enemy's staunchest ally - an eleven-foot Kronan - with a single swing of his hammer.
Led by Lady Sif, the battalion now ferried those captured on Vanaheim into Asgard where they would be safely confined to the dungeons below the city.
A few rows ahead of him, Halvor strutted along happily, directing his prisoners with rather unnecessary prods. He spent the entire walk down the Rainbow Bridge boasting pompously about the blows he delivered during battle. Skurge had never understood how so many others indulged the moron, just because he outranked them. There were an awful lot of brown noses throughout the ranks of Asgard.
His tirade continued until they, at last, reached the entrance to the dungeons.
As they descended into the dungeons, Skurge found his focus drawn to one cell in particular.
Far larger than the others, it was the only one furnished. And Skurge took note of the way many of the soldiers pointedly avoided peering at the lone figure who occupied the cell. The figure who stood, calmly, watched as the new prisoners were escorted towards their own cages.
A small frosty smile played on Loki's face as he watched Halvor appear amongst the soldiers escorting the prisoners into their keeps. Skurge watched as the smile turned into something... deadly.
Soon, as if sensing the cold gaze, Halvor turned to find Loki watching him. He practically preened under the attention and moved towards Loki's cell. He was visibly confident with the magic wielder safety locked away and clearly wanted to make a show of it in front of the other guards. It was a mistake - platformed as the cells were, it only made Loki appear that much larger than him. More menacing.
"Behold," Halvor shouted dramatically, flourishing an arm towards Loki's cell. "The Jotun Prince!"
As a low swell of laughter rippled through a few of the soldiers there, Skurge turned to look at the raven-haired God.
He stood by his cell wall, hands clasped calmly behind his back, statue-still. His gaze was on Halvor and Halvor only. He stared at him cooly, steadily. As if unaware anyone else was even present - like a predator calmly waiting for the perfect moment to strike a kill, one who knew its prey had no chance of survival.
It didn't seem to shake Halvor.
What an absolute fucking idiot, Skurge thought.
"How fare your new dwellings, your Highness?" Halvor called loudly again, earning another few, less enthusiastic chuckles from those around him. He still looked entirely too proud of himself at the result.
Loki ignored the jab. He kept his chilling gaze on the blonde man as he sauntered closer to him. He leaned in, closer and closer to those lethally powerful cell walls. A single brush against one was enough power to kill a man. Loki appeared totally unphased. He loomed over the soldier and when he spoke his voice was low and deathly calm. He didn't even seem aware of their audience - perhaps he didn't care - his focus was unwaveringly on Halvor.
"If you ever so much as breathe in her direction again... I will unmake you," Loki promised. "Not a single being in existence will have the stomach to gaze upon you. Even the foulest creatures infesting the deepest bowels of Hel will recoil in horror at the sight of what I do to you."
A strange chill swept through the dungeon, and a hush fell over the men there. They all turned their attention to Halvor to gauge his reaction, all of them unsettled. Even Skurge, who held the opinion that Halvor was getting exactly what he deserved, felt slightly unnerved by the threat.
Halvor was visibly shaken.
He evidently remembered that others looked on and tried to regain his composure. When he forced out a laugh, there was a tell-tale tremor to it.
"Fancy words and empty threats when you're locked inside that cell, Majesty," Halvor shot back.
"Find yourself in her vicinity again and you'll learn all too quickly that these walls will do little to keep you safe from me, I give you my word on that."
Dark energy began to roll off the prince then in ebbing waves of smoke. It emanated from him, powerful, and potent, and even though the dark clouds of power sizzled and wilted as they came into contact with the walls of the cell, Loki was not deterred. Power roiled from him, filling the starkly white space. The cell walls crackled menacingly as more and more, his power pressed up against them. Until Skurge began to grow uneasy, uncertain that the walls would in fact hold.
Unsettled murmurs amongst the soldiers witnessing the display quickly morphed into panicked shouts. Some of them began to back away, uncertainly. Others took up their weapons.
And all the while, Loki gazed unblinkingly at Halvor.
Fandral alerted to what was happening, pushed his way through the crowd of armed Asgardians who now watched on.
"Loki," he shouted firmly. "That's enough!"
In an instant, Sif had joined him too, glaring up determinedly at the raven-haired prince.
Loki didn't even acknowledge them as power continued to broil out of him, pressing threateningly against the barriers of the cell. Still, the magic sizzled there, but it would not be deterred, pressing harder still against the power there. Might against might. Will against will.
"Stand down," Fandral shouted, coming to stand in front of Halvor, and therefore in Loki's eye line. "I said stand down! Now!"
At last, Loki relented. His powers slowly dissipated, soaking back into him. He raised his chin as he watched Halvor and took a slow, calm step away from the edge of the cell. Another. Another.
But he never once dropped his gaze.
"Dismissed, soldier," Fandral said, turning to Halvor whose face was a pure vision of horror. "Go on, off with you!"
Halvor, at last, obeyed the order, turning and fleeing the dungeons and Loki's deadly gaze.
Fandral turned back to study the tricker, who was still staring after Halvor's retreating figure. Though now he looked far more satisfied.
"What are you playing at, Silvertongue?" Fandral asked at last.
Without offering any response, Loki flicked his attention to the other man for only a moment before turning his back on him entirely. Sif and Fandral turned to one another, understanding passing between them even in their silence.
Reagan stared at herself in the mirror as Malin worked on the final touches of the dress she was to wear to the Convergence ball. It was truly beautiful. Made from the most delicate tulle, which was whisper soft against her skin, in the softest champagne pink, it shaped to her body and draped from her hips down to the floor gracefully.
Gold embroidery decorated the bodice, so intricate and delicate that it looked as if flakes of gold had fallen like autumn leaves, settled there upon her and decided to make her body their home. It was elegant. She felt elegant. Even in its unfinished state.
As with most of her garments, Malin intended to fashion her sleeves, she just had some finishing touches to make on the length of the skirting first. And so for the first time, in what seemed like an age, Reagan took in her form with the length of her arms on display.
So much of herself she'd hidden away. The small dragonfly tattooed on her left shoulder because her mother had always loved them. A stupid little UFO she'd gotten when she was twenty on the inside of her right arm. A tiny crown on her inner wrist for her love of Where The Wild Things Are when she was young. A wishbone on the other. The sloping script that ran along her left forearm that read maybe once, maybe twice. One for a reminder that she was strong. One for her love of Halloween. And some meaningless ones too, like the tiny little markings that decorated some of her fingers just because she thought they were pretty.
All these tiny little parts of her. She'd always wanted to wear herself on her skin, to make her own body her home. And she'd hidden them away.
And the iridescent cuff around her forearm, and all that it meant. Who it represented. She'd thought it had been branded onto her skin. Taken away from that story of her , but this... it was a part of her too. If nothing else, Loki had shown her how to be unafraid of herself. He'd taught her to believe in her power, not fight it. He'd believed in her. And she hadn't even realised that it was more than that, he'd brought back her smile. He'd made her feel less alone, not just in Asgard but in a time that she'd felt so completely... other to everyone around her. She hadn't realised how much of herself she'd lost since gaining her powers, how much she'd buried herself. How had Loki taught her to be bright again when she hadn't even realised she'd been dulled?
"Alright, my lady," Malin said, interrupting Reagan's thoughts as she took a step back to admire her handiwork. "All that's left is to sew on some sleeves. Shouldn't take me long."
"No," Reagan replied in little more than a whisper, her gaze still fixed upon the mark. "It's okay, Malin. I'm going to go without."
"My lady?" Malin glanced up at her, unsure.
"I quite like the dress like this," Reagan told her softly, still gazing at her reflection. "I think it'd be a shame to overdo it."
Malin hesitated for a moment before she inclined her head.
"As you wish, my lady."
Any other night, Reagan would have been blown away by the splendour as she entered the ballroom. Any other night she would have gazed around in wonder at the lavish decorations, the otherworldly lilting music, the stunning chandeliers which hung overhead adorned with a thousand, thousand candles. On any other night, she would have been obsessed with the gowns, more beautiful than anything she'd ever seen on Earth.
But tonight, all that went unnoticed as a hush fell over the crowd, every set of eyes finding their way to her. The mortal girl. Bonded to the traitor. The Mark of Sjelevii proudly on display. The mark that had not been heard of for millennia, not gazed upon by anyone alive in Asgard, at last, laid bare for all to see for the very first time.
And self-conscious as she was, under the sea of watchful eyes, she found that there was nothing even resembling shame that accompanied it. She'd wondered - had even been a little apprehensive - that perhaps it would come when met with the stares. Because she'd expected the stares. She was used to the stares now. But she'd also wondered if there would be shame. If that was still in her.
It wasn't.
Reagan wasn't ashamed of the mark.
She wasn't ashamed of him.
The crowd parted slightly as she moved through the hall and she found herself longing for his presence. With each of their shields in place because of whatever embarrassment or fear or confusion - whatever else it might have been - it meant she could only feel a vague whisper of him.
She wondered if he missed her, too.
And the realisation struck her like lightning, that the place in the universe where she most wanted to be wasn't a lavish ballroom of the gods filled with the finest music and feast and wine in all the nine realms. No, it was an infuriatingly well-lit prison cell with the person doomed to waste away there for all eternity.
Her heart clenched at the very thought of it.
It was then that she spotted a familiar face and she offered a soft smile as Skurge approached her. He glanced around at the people nearby, all of whom were pretending not to be watching - listening in - and with a smile that looked more like a grimace he handed her a drink. Affection for the strange gruff man washed through her. He had no obligation to approach her tonight, not with the audience she'd drummed up, but he had anyway.
Because he was the coolest fucking dude in all of Asgard.
"You scrub up alright, don't ya?" he said, under his breath.
"Thanks," she replied and took a gracious gulp of the wine he'd offered her. "I have to admit, I hadn't expected an Asgardian ball to be so... tense."
"Ah, yeah," Skurge rubbed at the back of his neck. "In all honesty, you might have that Prince o' yours to thank for that..."
Reagan looked up at him questioningly. Skurge glanced around before leaning in a little closer so that he wouldn't be overheard.
"Word's been gettin' around about a little incident that occurred earlier today. We were escorting some prisoners down into the dungeons and basically, his Highness threatened to kill Halvor if he ever went near you again," he explained.
Reagan's stomach did a strange little flip.
"He did?"
"Put on a right little display. And there was quite an audience." Skurge nodded. "It was pretty visceral. Something along the lines of 'the ugliest monsters in all of Hel will cower at the sight of what I do to ya.' I don't really know - he's better with words, obviously."
If someone had told her a year ago that such a statement would force a warm, affectionate smile onto her face against her will, she probably would have kicked them. Her attention shifted to the link, but his shields were adamantly set in place, she brushed affectionately against the bond, regardless.
"That big old softy," she murmured at last.
Skurge watched her, as uncertain of what her response was going to be, he hadn't anticipated that.
"Right, that's soft," Skurge asked, slightly sceptical.
"Trust me, it is," she replied.
Reagan gazed around the room as she took another sip of wine and her eyes fell on another familiar face - albeit one that she was far less fond of. Sif was already watching her, with an absolutely withering glare, when Reagan's eyes met hers.
Reagan let out a long, slow sigh.
"So," she murmured to Skurge. "This little incident in the dungeons, any change that's the reason Sif looks like she's currently fantasising about all the different ways she'd like to kill me?"
Skurge didn't need to follow her gaze to know what she meant.
"Lady Sif was leading our battalion today," he explained. "She was in charge when things got outta hand. Fandral needed to step in. Think maybe it wounded her pride a little. But the fact that it was the prince - the fact that it was about you... yeah, I don't think that helped much neither."
It was as if something in her finally snapped - some final straw. She was done pretending she deserved the judgemental looks. Done with the mistrust. Done acting like it was their opinions that she valued most.
"Hold this for a sec?" she handed her glass to Skurge before striding determinedly towards the dark-haired woman.
"Reagan," Skurge called after her. "Wait, there's something else you should probably--"
It was too late, Reagan was already halfway across the massive hall.
Sif seemed to tense as she watched her approach, but not for fear, rather as if she were readying herself to fight.
"Go on, get it over with," Reagan said, when she at last opposite the warrior. "Say whatever it is that you're dying to say."
Sif studied her, eyed her up and down, her gaze lingering for a few moments on the mark before she met Reagan's eye once more.
"I don't think you should be here," Sif said. "I don't think that a prisoner and a traitor should be allowed to have a spy wandering around on his behalf."
Reagan squinted a little.
"I'm so completely lost as to what it is that any of you are doing that Loki is supposed to be so interested in. What exactly am I spying on?"
"One can never be sure with that snake."
Reagan scoffed in disbelief. It was apparent that this was not going to be a productive sort of conversation by any means. She didn't care. And as Fandral silently sidled up beside Sif, also eyeing Reagan's bare forearm, the quiet outrage inside her only grew. She allowed her gaze to flick between the two of them, defiantly.
"He attacked one of my men today," Sif went on, her voice low and dangerous.
"Oh, unclench, Sif," Reagan drawled and the dark-haired woman's eyes grew wide in response. "He's locked away in a prison cell, I'd hardly say he 'attacked' anyone."
"He threatened to escape."
"Yeah, and? Can he?"
"No, he cannot," she said it like a promise - like a threat.
"Then I'm sorry, but I really don't see the problem."
Sif cast her gaze down to Reagan's arm. The mark boldly on display, shimmering iridescently for all to see for the first time since Reagan had arrived in Asgard. The legendary mark, that everyone had so desperately wanted to gaze upon - that the mortal finally laid bare for all to see.
"It brings you pride," Sif said quietly. "The mark. The threats he makes on your behalf."
Reagan studied the immortal woman before her for a moment before she answered her honestly.
"Yeah, it does."
Beside Sif, Fandral's jaw clenched and he cast his gaze away as he shook his head.
"You're just like him," Sif whispered.
"Maybe I am. What's so terrible about that?" Reagan shook her head. "You think you're so much better than him. You all act like he's some horrible monster. But he's not."
"How can you say that after all he's done?" Fandral interjected at last. "After what he tried to do to your own planet."
Reagan didn't respond to that. There were things they didn't know. Things she wanted to shout for all the world to hear so that they might look at Loki and understand. But these things, these secrets... Loki hadn't given them to her willingly. She wasn't sure he even knew what she knew...
"You don't know him," she told Fandral steadily.
He only scoffed.
"On the contrary," he replied. "You met the trickster all of five minutes ago. I warned you that he deceives people. That he would con you into seeing him as the victim. And that is clearly what he is doing to you. I know his games, Reagan. His ways. I have known him for nigh on a thousand years."
"Yeah... But you don't know him," she said softly, simply.
"Oh, and you think you do?"
"Yes, I do actually."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Because I know for a fact he hasn't divulged the truth to you - of what he truly is." Fandral studied her as he spoke, looking for any sign that he was getting to her. "I think we sensed it before any of us learned the truth of it. Perhaps that's why he was always such an outsider. Because something in us knew what he truly was."
It was then that Skurge decided to step in.
"Alright, now hold on just a minute--"
Reagan raised her hand, she settled it on his chest for a moment to stop him. Her eyes never left Fandral, even as her pulse began to quicken. Her jaw clenched. And the fire deep inside her bloomed, sorely wanting to burst forth from her.
"Say it," she told him, quietly. But she knew, then. Even before he said it she knew.
"There's a reason that your dear Loki is such a cold, hateful creature. It's because ice is in his very veins. His soul is made from it. He is capable of nothing but rage and destruction. As are all his kind. The Frost Giants."
Reagan's lips parted slightly as realisation swept over her and Loki's too-calm, guarded voice came back to her.
So, I take it they told you?
Oh...
She hadn't known what that had meant. She'd disregarded it because she'd been so caught up in her own embarrassment that she hadn't seen it for what it was. She hadn't realised that that had been the moment - that had been when the shift in him had occurred. It was then that he'd shut her out and started behaving like... like any moment she was about to stumble on some terrible truth.
It was the final piece of a puzzle that she'd been trying to piece together. And everything - everything - was laid out before her.
The way they all spoke of the monsters from Jotenheim, this awful self-loathing in him that she could never quite figure out. The way he hid himself away. The way he guarded himself against her.
Oh, Loki...
She shook her head once again.
"What do you want here, Fandral? What's the goal? You want me to say that I'll never speak to him again? To call him a monster? Because I won't."
"I only want for you to know the truth," he told her calmly. "And for you to rid yourself of the illusion that we are making him out to be something that he's not."
Reagan's expression grew pained as she studied the man before her - the one spilling Loki's secrets as if they could poison her.
"A thousand years," she said calmly at last. "You said you've known Loki for a thousand years."
"That's right."
"So... your king found this helpless little baby, abandoned by his family in the midst of war," she said slowly. "He brought him back here, to raise as his own, alongside his own son. And all the while he thinks he's Asgardian, right? And that Frost Giants were - how did you phrase it? 'A vile species.' 'Beasts shaped like men.' That was it, wasn't it? That's what your people believe."
Fandral watched her, he didn't respond. There was something in his eyes she couldn't quite read. She didn't care.
"Odin had a thousand years to change this stigma that they're something... terrible. But he didn't do that. He let Loki grow up believing that. What did he think would happen when he found out the truth? I mean, is he fucking mentally ill or something?"
Fandral's nostrils flared and he took a step closer to her.
"Fandral..." Sif cautioned but he ignored her.
"Have caution how you speak of our king, mortal."
Reagan took a step closer still, glowering back at him.
"Your king... is an asshole . And if anyone is the monster in that story, then it's him."
She tried to step around him - to make her way for the exit - but in a moment of outrage at her words, Fandral moved to block her way.
She reacted on instinct.
It was a parlour trick. Nothing more. Just something to force him to take a step back - to get him out of her space. A small burst of fire, there and then gone again in an instant. But it was enough.
Enough to cause the crowd around them to gasp and leap back in horror.
Enough for Sif to draw her blade, ready to attack.
Enough to singe the hair right off Fandral's stupid face.
They stood, staring at each other in equally stunned silence for a few moments and Reagan fought the urge to apologise. Icy guilt swept through her and as she glanced around, she saw the looks of horror evident on the features of everyone there. Before anyone was able to react, she gathered her skirts in her hands and hurried for the exit. The crowd parted for her, giving her a large birth, though mercifully, that also meant a quicker escape.
As soon as she burst through the doors and into the sparsely populated palace corridors she sucked in a deep, steadying breath. The instant she heard footsteps following her, the urge to start sprinting gripped her, but she resisted when she recognised his voice.
"Reagan!" she turned to find Skurge following her, and she slowed to a stop to allow him to catch up.
Her skirts were bunched tightly in her fists and she fought against the lump forming in her throat, willing away the tears wetting her eyes.
"Are you alright?" He asked gently when he reached her at last.
"I'm fine, Skurge," she assured him. "I've just got to go. I need to... I need to see him."
"Listen," Skurge said quickly before she could turn from him. "About what they told ya."
"I don't-"
"I wanted to tell you the other day. Warn ya about what they were up to but... I didn't feel like my place. I'm sorry that I didn't."
Reagan offered him a watery smile as she reached out her hand and took his, she gave it an affectionate squeeze.
"Don't apologise," she said, gently. "You have treated me more decently than just about anyone else in all of Asgard."
She squeezed his hand once more before letting go and retreating to her chambers. She ignored the stares of the people she passed. Ignored any whispers. They didn't matter. Only one thing did.
The instant she reached her rooms and the door latched shut behind her, hiding her away from the golden city and everyone in it, at last, she did the thing she'd wanted to do that entire evening and projected herself into his cell.
Notes:
More soon... ;)
Chapter 21
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
She'd come unannounced.
As she always did.
She'd even startled him a little.
Loki was reclined on his bed with yet another book in hand when she appeared in the corner of the cell. He hadn't expected her to visit that night with the ball that was being held. With the tension between them. She was supposed to be off enjoying her evening - mingling, making new friends... maybe even dancing. He could see out of his peripheral vision that she wore a gown of brilliant gold and the softest pink. Her hair fell gently around her shoulders, in that infuriatingly beautiful Midgardian style that she refused to forsake. Just this - the presence of her was enough to make his chest tighten. He longed to let himself admire her, but before he had the chance, the words she spoke caused him to freeze.
"I know why they were teaching me about Frost Giants."
There was a tremor of emotion in her voice that he couldn't quite read.
So, this was it. The end. Anguish roiled through him but he suppressed any physical reaction and kept his shields firmly in place. This would be unsavoury enough without her knowing how the weight of those words impacted him.
He sat up slowly, still staring at his book. He sorely wanted to look at her, but couldn't quite bring himself to do it.
"And?" he asked, hoping he sounded indifferent.
"And I'm furious," she said, her voice quivering once again.
Loki almost winced then. Almost.
"They had no right to say any of what they said to me tonight."
His brow furrowed involuntarily. He hadn't expected that. He continued to stare down at the page open before him as if pretending to read but he was painfully aware that she knew it was an act. His whole body tensed as she moved towards him slowly. He stopped breathing when she sat down on his mattress, not in her normal spot by the foot of the bed but closer - so much closer - so that her hip almost met his and she was facing him. And when she reached out her hand and rested it on his wrist as if to capture his attention - as if she didn't already have all of it - every last nerve ending in his body came to life, thrumming with energy.
She had never done that before. Never reached for him like that.
"Loki," her voice was so painfully gentle, so full of tenderness, and he couldn't quite reconcile that that tenderness could be for him. "Loki... it's okay."
She could feel it, he realised. His stomach plummeted. Even with his barriers in place, this was too big. She could sense it. His shame. His self-loathing. His... fear.
He kept his expression neutral - guarded - as he finally drew his gaze up to meet hers.
And when he found kindness there, he could barely stomach it. Was she to break him gently, then?
"Fandral shouldn't have told me," Reagan murmured. "It wasn't his place to do that. And... I know that you didn't want me to know. But, Loki, I need you to believe me when I tell you, it doesn't change anything. I didn't even know what a Frost Giant was a week ago, how could it possibly matter to me?"
Loki swallowed thickly. He couldn't bear to look into her eyes for even a moment more. And when he dropped her gaze his eyes fell to her hand, still holding gently onto his wrist, to her bare forearm, to the mark, which he hadn't witnessed on her skin with his own eyes since that first day in the elevator.
"I understand," Reagan assured him softly, comfortingly. "I understand why you didn't want to tell me."
Loki shut his eyes for just a moment before he finally found his voice.
"Because they're monsters," Loki murmured, there was a foreign sort of strain to his voice. He cursed the vulnerability in him. He cursed the fact he wasn't bold enough to say 'we'. To own the thing that he was.
"No," she corrected gently, giving his wrist a comforting squeeze. "That's not true. It can't be true."
"You know nothing of them," he reminded her, bitterness tinging the words.
"Maybe not... but I know you," she said with a whisper of a smile. "And if that's what you are, Loki, then it can't be true."
Loki's brow furrowed in a pained expression as he glanced up at her again, and found that pain mirrored on her features as she studied him.
"Whatever it is that your people believe, you're living proof that they've got it wrong. You're not a monster, Loki. And I'm so sorry that you ever had to think that you were. It's not right. You deserve so much better than the things that have happened to you."
Loki's lips quirked just a little. "You almost sound like you mean that."
"I do mean it," Reagan whispered.
A strange battle was beginning to rage within him - a mix of wishing that she were a million lightyears away so that she couldn't see this weakness in him but also feelings he was growing all too familiar with; the craving of her, savouring her being there.
His gaze trailed back to her forearm once more. The iridescent cuff there, the way it shimmered in the light with even a fraction of movement. She'd covered it so resolutely ever since the beginning, she'd hated the sight of it, he'd felt it, her disdain for the thing branded on her body against her will. Revulsion. He'd felt it. So potent that he could barely stomach the sight of his own mark.
But she sat there, with her hand on his, the mark on display, telling him there was nothing wrong with the thing that he was... sounding as though she truly believed those words.
Reagan's voice stirred him from his thoughts.
"When I realised what they were doing - and what I'd said to you the other day, just regurgitating what they'd told me before I knew why ... I'm just- I'm mortified," she told him, earnestly. "I'm so sorry I did that, Loki. I'm sorry I fell for it."
Loki shook his head a little.
"Please... don't ever apologise to me."
"But I need you to know that I never would have said-"
"Reagan..." he said, gently cutting her off.
Slowly - tentatively - he turned his hand over beneath hers, lacing their fingers together. She didn't pull away.
She didn't pull away.
Reagan's gaze fell to their intertwined hands before shifting to his face again.
"Please, don't apologise," he murmured once more.
Reagan studied him for a moment before she nodded in acceptance.
"Okay," she relented softly and attempted to push away the guilt that filled her so that she could focus on him instead.
Loki ghosted his thumb gently over the dips and ridges of her knuckles.
"Have you ever talked to anyone about it?" she asked.
He laughed a little at the very idea.
"No... not really. My Father fell into the Odinsleep before I was ever offered any real answers. And mother... well, she has always done her best to compensate for the ways that he fell short but... She's also always had excuses for him."
Frigga's voice echoed down the bond.
Your father always has his reasons.
Reagan nodded, swallowing against the emotion forming in her throat.
"You can talk to me about it, you know," she told him. "You can talk to me... I'll listen."
Loki had spent his past few days trying to envision how this might go - her finding out the truth of him. He'd imagined her reacting in anger, in disgust. He'd imagined her calling him a monster, tried to picture what that word might sound like being spat at him hatefully from her lips. He'd even imagined that he might just never see her again, that she might not even want to confront him and instead just distance herself as far as she possibly could behind shields he'd helped her build.
He hadn't expected her kindness. And now that she offered it, he felt a fool. Of course, she was being kind. His lovely, little mortal. The girl made of fire. Who never ever did anything he expected her to.
And it was only in that moment that it finally struck him how desperately he wanted someone - anyone - to listen. To give him the chance to put his pain and confusion and... betrayal into words.
No, not just anyone, he realised.
Her.
He'd wanted to once before. On the night that she'd told him of her own father. When she'd poured out her heart so easily to him. That moment of vulnerability. Something he'd always seen as such a weakness - a flaw - it hadn't seemed like one then. And how he'd envied her for it.
After centuries of doing the opposite - hiding it all away - it just seemed such an impossible feat. He hardly knew how to put voice to even that.
"I'd hardly know..." Loki tried. "I wouldn't know what to... how to..."
He felt her brush tenderly against the bond. But as he looked up at her, even without it, he could read the compassion in her eyes - compassion for him - and his heart clenched.
She understood.
"How did you find out?" Reagan asked, gently.
Loki swallowed, battling down the emotions swelling in his throat. It was more than anyone else had even attempted to do for him - to help him find a starting place.
And so Loki told her, of their journey to Jotenheim so that Thor could exact his revenge. He told her the truth that it had been his doing, coaxing the creatures into Asgard to upheave his brother's ascension to the Throne. He told her of the monster that touched him and froze his flesh and instead of terrible, frostbitten damage, he'd watched as his skin betrayed him and turned that monstrous shade of blue.
And all the while she held his hand. She didn't interrupt. She didn't try to correct him when he used terms like 'monster' or 'creature' or 'thing'. There was no judgement. She just listened, let him speak - let him feel. Her hand was an anchor, and as he spoke, Loki stared down at it, laced with his. He ran his finger gently along her pulse point. Memorised the shape of the small scar by her index finger.
He told her of Thor's disdain for the creatures - how he'd wanted them dead.
He told her of Odin finding him in the weapons vault, then falling into the Odinsleep. Only learning enough to know that his father had kept the secret from him to protect him from the truth, because he too, believed them monsters.
He told her of trying to destroy Jotenheim - to erase its very existence - because maybe if he could then it would mean...
Her hand suddenly pulled free from his and Loki froze for a moment, realising what he had just admitted to. Dread swelled in his chest, certain that this was to be the moment when he finally faced her disgust. He braced himself for it. But then he watched as she wiped tears away from her face, and breathed in a deep, steadying breath. He hadn't realised she was crying.
Loki became aware then that in allowing himself to open up to her and showing her that secret, ugly part of him, he'd unconsciously lowered the protection around his mind and let her in. She hadn't just heard his words, she'd felt them, seen what happened. He'd shown her how raw the pain still was. How consuming.
And she'd accepted it - welcomed it. She'd felt it all, helped him to carry it. And as she had, it had brought her to tears. Tears for him.
"I'm sorry," Reagan said. "Loki, I'm so sorry."
Loki leaned in towards her and reached to wipe a freshly fallen tear from her face.
"Please, don't cry..." he begged gently. "I hadn't realised... I didn't mean to let you-"
Reagan shook her head, stopping him.
"I'm glad you did."
They stared at each other and without really realising he was doing it, Loki reached up and tucked her hair gently behind her ear. He didn't like seeing her cry, even if they were tears of compassion. He wanted her light again. He wanted her smile.
"I'd like you to know that contrary to past efforts, it wasn't my intention to make you so miserable," Loki teased gently.
"Oh, these are happy tears," Reagan corrected, detecting his tone. "They're because I just realised this is the longest we've ever gone without you making fun of me for something."
Loki smirked.
"Well, what a clever ploy to get me talking about myself just to set a new record."
"I knew it would work," she said with a small smile, even as she sniffed. "It is your favourite subject, after all."
Loki laughed, gazing at her affectionately, drinking her in.
By the stars, she was a vision in that dress...
Loki's stomach dropped a little. It occurred to him then that she was sitting alone in her chambers just to talk to him, he'd been greedy with her time, and she was missing out on the evening's events. Somewhat reluctantly, though not wanting to spoil her entire night, he decided to remind her.
"You know, you needn't waste your evening here," he said at last. "The night is still young. You should go back and enjoy the festivities."
Reagan shook her head.
"I'm right where I want to be," she told him before a slight grimace pulled at her face. "Besides, I don't think that would go down so well... I kind of made a little bit of a scene on my way out."
Loki's eyebrows quirked.
"Oh? Do tell."
Reagan ducked her head a little, looking slightly embarrassed, as she sent the memory down the link for Loki to inspect. She didn't show him everything - spared him the ugliness of the things they said about him. But he witnessed the parts that mattered.
Your king... is an asshole.
Her attempt to sidestep Fandral but him blocking her way only to find his facial hair singed clean off.
The pure look of shock on his newly bald face.
A satisfied smirk spread across Loki's features as he studied the memory, one that Reagan couldn't help but to mirror even though she had the good grace to still look slightly guilty and soon they were snickering quietly together like a pair of naughty school children.
"So," Loki said. "Your first ball wasn't the success you'd hoped it would be."
"You can say that again. I didn't even get to dance," Reagan smiled, her expression softening. "Unless of course... Your offer from earlier still stands?"
Loki smiled at her gently.
"Well, it would be a great shame to waste that dress."
"You like it?" Reagan asked, glancing down at herself, playing with the tulle between her fingertips.
"Yes. You're lovely."
She looked up suddenly to meet his eye. Her instinct was to think he was making fun of her but there was something in his voice that just sounded so sincere. She blushed and returned her focus to the fabric of her skirts.
Loki stood then and rounded to face her, his posture straightening into something proud and regal. Reagan smiled up at him, watching as he bowed and offered her his hand. She took it, allowing him to guide her to her feet. Loki led her slowly to the centre of the room, his attention focused on her all the while. When he drew his arm around her waist, she placed her hand on his shoulder and drew closer to him and he had to will his heart to steady, certain she'd be able to hear it at this proximity. And even still, there was something so... tranquil about having her so close. As though it was where she was supposed to be.
She smiled brightly as he began to guide her through the dance.
And just because he wanted to show off a little, and to pretend for a moment he wasn't locked away in a dungeon - away from her - Loki conjured his magic and cast an illusion of a dazzling ballroom all around them. The cell walls that were now his constant companions faded away beneath his magic. Stark white floors melted into midnight blue marble, and intricately carved pillars stretched up towards the heavens, disappearing into an illusion of a starry night sky. A calm blue light settled over everything, illuminated by the brilliant glow of floating pillar candles. And above them, a brilliant chandelier made of countless crystals glimmered like stars, casting fragments of light onto the floor below.
Loki watched as Reagan gazed around in wonder, a small smile playing on his lips as she took in all the details of the magic.
"Whoa..." she breathed, drinking it in. "You've been holding out on me, Mischief."
And as soft, lilting music began to play and a song began to be sung in an Asgardian tongue she looked back at him, a small smile dancing on her lips.
"Nice touch," she admitted.
Reagan drew in a little closer as Loki guided her through the steps. She laughed as she followed his lead, watching their feet. Loki instructed her as he always did whenever he showed her something new - patient and attentive. But this was also something... gentler, more intimate. Slowly, as her movements grew more fluid and she followed along with him more smoothly, she seemed to grow more confident.
"Like this?" she asked.
"Much better," Loki replied. "But you should be looking up rather than at the floor."
"I'm worried I'll step on your feet," Reagan laughed.
"I'm sure I can handle it."
"Well, what if you step on mine?"
"I suppose you'll just have to rid me of my eyebrows as well."
Reagan grimaced.
"I probably shouldn't have done that..." Reagan muttered. "I'll probably wake up tomorrow regretting it. That tends to be the trend with a lot of my impulse decisions."
"Really? I actually wouldn't have guessed that about you given the way you have continued to scribble little drawings all over yourself in permanent ink."
She looked up at him in surprise.
"You don't like my tattoos?" she asked, sounding a little disappointed.
Loki softened, and instead of another joke, he couldn't help but to answer her sincerely.
"Reagan, I like everything about you," he told her in little more than a whisper and watched as her cheeks began to colour under his gaze. "But no, I don't like them."
Laughter burst from her and she allowed her head to fall against his shoulder as she giggled delightedly, happy that he was playing with her again.
Loki smiled along with her, only barely resisting the urge to lean into hair and press his mouth the crown of her head.
"I am sorry that you've missed the ball as a result of it all," Loki told her instead.
Reagan just shrugged a little.
"I wasn't having much fun anyway," she admitted as she lifted her head to look at him again. "Truth is I've had more fun with you in this prison cell than I have with anyone else, anywhere in Asgard."
Loki's chest filled with warmth.
"Truth be told, so have I. And that includes anything that came before you ever set foot on this planet."
Something shifted in her then. Loki felt it, but couldn't quite read it. He tilted his head, almost in question as he studied her. When she looked up at him again there was emotion swimming in her eyes. Her movements slowed and Loki followed her lead, their dance coming to a gentle sway as they held one another.
"Loki... if I ask you something will you answer me honestly?"
She was staring at him, studying him. She stood so close to him that their noses were almost brushing together. Close enough that at any moment he could lean in and taste her. Gods, he wanted to taste her. He reminded himself, as he had countless times, how far away she truly was, up there somewhere in the city high above him. He cursed every millimetre of distance between them.
"Ask me anything, I'll tell you the truth," he promised her.
They swayed in silence for a few moments more before she finally spoke.
"Why haven't you told anyone what Thanos did to you?"
Loki's heart gave a horrible jolt then and he drew back ever so slightly to study her. The pained expression she wore as she watched him, somewhat cautious, as if afraid the question might inspire his anger. He could hardly blame her for that. He swallowed and dropped her gaze. Whatever he'd expected her question to be, it hadn't been that. He breathed out a sigh. She shouldn't have even known that name.
The urge rose in Loki to flee but he felt her hand squeeze his, just a little, reassuringly, and so he didn't move to pull away from her.
"How long have you known?" he asked quietly.
"I don't know, exactly," Reagan answered honestly. "I've suspected for a while but it wasn't until the other day when you frightened me, and you opened the link to show me that I was safe that I got the last few pieces of the puzzle to make it all make sense. That was when I learned his name. Who he was. What he wanted with you. At first, I thought your nightmares were just... nightmares. But the more I saw of them, the more I felt... Loki, you were so afraid. You were in so much pain. I didn't know what they meant, or why they'd happened. And I knew that if I asked you, you wouldn't tell me. But I started piecing things together. And the more I got to know you, the less it made sense - the things you did on Earth."
Loki cast his gaze down, ashamed.
"But then that night that we weren't talking, and you were finally so exhausted that you fell asleep and dropped your shields and I saw your nightmares again. I saw the things he did to you. I felt them-"
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
Reagan shook her head.
"I watched over you that night, and I told myself that it was because I didn't want to see them again. But I knew. Deep down I knew they were real. And I knew they were recent. New York-recent. I didn't know who he was. I didn't know how to ask. Not just you, but anyone. With the way everyone spoke about you, I knew they didn't know. Not even Thor. And it felt like a betrayal to tell anyone, even though I didn't really understand why... and so the truth of it is - the real reason I came and apologised to you that day - is because I wanted to help you. I wanted to try with you."
Loki's heart clenched then, he'd always thought there was more to it. Always wondered what the real change in her had been that day. She'd been so different with him after that. So much warmer. It had never made sense.
"I already liked you way more than I was willing to admit - you know when you weren't trying to be a complete ass. And I was just- I was so confused by you. By how fun and calm you could be when you weren't putting up this front. How different you were to on Earth. And then I realised something - that in New York, after what the Hulk did to you-"
Loki glanced away, the very memory of it bruising his ego.
"You were different afterwards," Reagan said, adamantly. "You were like you are now. You were making jokes and making fun of Cap, and you were lighter and... It was like you were clear. Just how Clint had been when Nat hit him over the head."
Another sting. He hated thinking about what he'd done to Barton, now that he knew what he'd meant to her. If Barton could see her now, in his arms, dancing like they were--
A gentle hand caressed his jaw, shaking him from the train of thought, and guided his face back towards hers. His eyes met hers.
"And your eyes are green," she whispered.
His brow furrowed as he watched her.
"But they weren't. I know they were blue back then," Reagan stared up at him, something in her expression that he didn't quite understand. "I've been waiting for you to tell me, but I just- I can't stand it anymore. He tortured you. He broke you. He controlled you... Why haven't you told anyone what he did to you?"
Loki closed his eyes and breathed out a low sigh.
"Because it doesn't matter," he told her at last.
"Of course, it matters."
"No, Reagan, it doesn't." Loki hesitated, unsure of how to put it into words. To make her understand. "It wasn't like what I did to Barton. He... he had no choice. I knew exactly what I was doing - I wanted to do it - the sceptre just... Amplified that want. Please, don't trick yourself into thinking I was innocent. I just..."
I don't want you to see me as something I'm not.
"I don't. I just... I need you to know that I know there's so much more to it. I hate how much pain you've been in. I hate that you've had to do it alone. But the thing is you don't have to anymore, Loki," she told him. "Let me help you."
Loki nodded slowly, his gaze cast downward. He didn't speak. Couldn't. So overwhelmed with emotions that he always fought so hard to suppress. She felt it. He knew she did.
"It matters," she promised. "And it doesn't have to be today, okay? I'll be here whenever you're ready. Just know that it matters."
"Thank you," Loki murmured.
"And maybe, in time, you'd feel ready to explain to your father-"
"My father wouldn't care."
"Of course, he would."
Loki's jaw clenched, perhaps it was how raw he found himself from opening up to her about his true parentage, perhaps it was the strain of having held his shields in place so determinedly for so long, or knowing that someone finally knew what had happened to him. Whatever the reason, Loki couldn't quite stave off the memory that forced itself into his mind. A memory he tried so desperately never to think about. The proof that she was wrong.
But Reagan felt the whisper of it.
"Show me," Reagan murmured
Loki closed his eyes and loosed a breath as he relented. He let her in and showed her that final piece, the thing that left him empty. That day on the edge of the Bifrost, when he had tried to destroy Jotenheim, to make the Frost Giants disappear. When Thor had returned home to stop him and had destroyed the bridge, the force of it had thrown the brothers over the edge of Asgard. But then Odin had caught Thor by the ankle. And Thor had caught Loki's spear, stopping him from falling.
Loki had been in so much pain and his father had fallen into the Odinsleep and left him to deal with the pieces of... himself that no longer made sense to him.
And then he woke up for Thor.
He woke up for Thor.
But his other son. His lesser son. The monster from Jotenheim.
"No, Loki."
And so Loki had let go and his would-be father had watched as he plummeted into an abyss.
And when he was, at last, found again. That same man had locked him away in a cage so that he could be forgotten.
Loki felt a sudden surge of rage from Reagan on his behalf - it roiled off her like a tidal wave, visceral, almost as if it were laced with her flames. Loki startled slightly, he hadn't anticipated that she would react so strongly.
"Reagan, it's alright," he assured her.
"No, it's not," she answered firmly. "He should have known. He should have been there for you. I mean, Loki, I would have said anything to get you back on that bridge-"
Reagan caught herself, cutting herself off. She huffed out a small laugh, slightly embarrassed as she ducked her head a little.
Loki's fingers ghosted under her chin, guiding her eyes gently back to his.
"Look at me," he whispered. "Look at me...."
He knew his gaze on her was intense. He saw the way she blushed under it, but he couldn't stop himself from drinking her in. And though she'd grown a little timid, she made no move to pull away.
"Let's not speak of him anymore," he murmured.
She nodded in agreement, and hesitated for just a second, searching for a way to fill the silence.
"This song is beautiful," Reagan all but whispered, staring up at him. "What is she saying?"
"She's telling the tale of Faal and Morgarth. The first lovers of Asgard," Loki told her with a soft smile. "Before Asgardians learned that they were gods, they worshipped the moon. They made offerings to her, knelt before her, swear their lives to her. But Morgarth, he worshipped only Faal. A priestess of the night was jealous of how deeply he loved her. She believed that such devotion belonged to the moon and the moon alone. So she placed a curse upon Faal. As soon as the sun set that day she would breathe her last breath. When Morgarth learned of this, he took to the sky and he held up the sun so that the curse couldn't take her. His hands charred black but he endured the pain for her. Until the witch's crops withered and the water dried up, and worst of all he parted her from her precious moon until she at last relented and lifted the curse so that the two could be together."
"Well... that's all rather dramatic isn't it?" Reagan murmured in a tone far gentler than her words might suggest.
Loki smiled.
"My thoughts exactly."
"Do all Asgardian songs tell stories like that?"
"Many do. Many of love, but more about conquest and honour and our bravest warriors - those who have fallen throughout the ages. A great many were written to Thor when he first wielded that infernal hammer of his."
"Are there any songs about you?"
"I'm mentioned in a few of Thor's but, no. None about me, personally. And certainly no love songs." Loki laughed a little."I'm not exactly the sort of person someone might write those about."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Reagan murmured back as she gazed up at him.
Loki stilled as he met her eye, his lips parting slightly.
She stared up at him openly, drinking in his features.
She was caught up in the moment, Loki told himself. The music, the slow dancing, the intimacy of learning the truths of him. It was just a fleeting moment, nothing more.
But still, he could feel the bond, the tenderness that had been ebbing from her all evening.
And then her gaze flickered fleetingly to his mouth.
Loki leaned in closer to her. All evening, with every inch that closed between them, he had decided that was his new favourite place in the universe. He gazed into her eyes. The bond between them was alive with energy and emotion and need.
"Loki..." Reagan whispered. "I think I-"
A sudden thundering, knock sounded at the door of Reagan's chambers, sending a jolt of surprise through her.
Just like that, the spell was broken and Reagan found herself strangely caught between two worlds - both in Loki's arms, dancing in a world made of magic, and alone in her empty chambers, with some certain inconvenience waiting on the other side of her door.
Reagan looked up at Loki, regretfully. The arm around her waist tightened ever so slightly, almost as if it were against his own will.
"Stay," he murmured. "Please, stay..."
The boom sounded at the door again.
She just had to get rid of them. She'd make it fast. Tell whoever it was to leave and be done with it. Still, it took everything in her to pull away.
"I'll be right back," she promised, her hand lingering in his for just a little too long.
Slowly - painfully so - her projection faded and she found herself alone in her chambers once more. It felt empty - ugly.
She turned towards the door, fighting against the frustration building up in her.
It was likely Fandral, coming to have it out with her over the attack in the ballroom. She was more than happy to inform him that he'd have to wait.
But then Reagan swung the door open to find herself standing face to face with the last person she ever expected to see standing in her doorway that evening.
"I believe it's high time that you and I had a conversation," the Allfather said.
Notes:
*Ducks and hides*
PLEASE don't hate me! I had to. Thanos made me do it?Omg so to the readers who I promised a 24-48 hour update to i am SOOOO sorry. As far as excuses go, i think this one is pretty solid: my boyfriend proposed to me the other night. I was not expecting it at all! So instead of writing we were celebrating BUT I spent the majority of today dutifully ignoring him to write for all of you, my lovelies.
More soon :)
Chapter 22
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Without waiting for an invitation Odin swept into the room with such intent that Reagan found herself staggering out of his way slightly. He waved a hand somewhat dismissively as soon as he crossed the threshold and the door swung shut behind him with a loud 'bang!'
"Oh yes, please come in," Reagan muttered sarcastically and she was instantly met with the authoritative glare of Odin's one remaining eye.
"I would choose wisely, the tone you decided to address me with this evening," he warned.
And though the statement caused a chill to travel down Reagan's spine, she didn't back down.
Reagan, Loki cautioned, sensing her defiance. Please, tread lightly. Odin's wrath is not something I would have you face.
She could feel wild, nervous tension roiling off Loki, and that alone just made her all the angrier. He'd been just as surprised to find the Allfather waiting outside of her chambers, but where his presence had only annoyed Reagan - especially given what he had just interrupted - she could feel sheer dread arising within Loki. Not the rage or resentment she would have expected from him. No, his presence - here, alone with her - elicited dread from him.
She studied the ancient being before her, reminding herself of his unfathomable power. More powerful than Loki. More powerful than Thor. Supposedly all-knowing, wise and just. His very presence was intimidating - he seemed so much larger than anything in the room. He took up space. He was the focal point. King. Allfather. An image of strength and wisdom and perfection.
And yet, Reagan knew that he buried his problems, hid them away where they could be of no bother to him. For all of eternity, if he saw fit.
Reagan couldn't stop herself from thinking what a little man he was.
"Okay, fine," she answered Odin, malice still evident in her voice. "To what do I owe the pleasure, exactly?"
Odin eyed her dangerously. Her tone, evidently, had not shifted enough to have satisfied him.
She could only imagine what he saw when he looked at her - a defiant little mortal, with no right to so much as gaze upon the king of the Nine Realms, let alone speak back to him.
Words Loki spoke seemingly a million lifetimes ago came flooding back to her suddenly.
An ant has no quarrel with a boot.
Had they been words he'd heard before? Loki had always considered humans beneath him, Reagan had just thought that stemmed from Loki's inherent hatred for all things Midgardian. But now, knowing of what he'd been taught to think of Frost Giants... maybe it was his father who had drilled into him just how lowly mortals were.
"Reports have been reaching me, of late," Odin said, his voice unnervingly calm. "Unsavoury reports, of a mortal girl wreaking havoc throughout the Kingdom."
"Okay well, I think 'wreaking havoc' is overdoing it a little-"
"Reports of attacks upon soldiers - members of the Einherjar," Odin continued. "The burns they've suffered at your hands. One such soldier has also been delivered threats by a particular prisoner in Asgard's dungeons."
Reagan loosed a weary sigh.
"Unbelievable," she muttered.
So this was to be Loki's fault as well.
Odin rounded on her, her reaction angering him.
"Do you deny the attacks?"
"No, I don't," she said adamantly. "But don't you want to know why they happened?"
"Your reasoning doesn't interest me. An attack on the Einherjar is an attack on Asgard. And a threat against our peace. I will not hear of another incident."
"Wow. That really sums you up doesn't it?"
Reagan, I beg of you... do not provoke him.
Why not? You do.
That's different. You know it is. Loki insisted. Please, just back down.
Odin glowered at her.
"I excused one such incident," he said, in a low voice. "One could be reasoned as an accident - unruly magic belonging to a being for whom the power is too great-"
Reagan clenched her jaw.
"-but for another incident to occur earlier this very night, with a sea of on-lookers, against one of Asgard's most elite and respected warriors. It will not be stood for."
She scoffed.
"So, is it off to the dungeons for me then?"
"No," Odin said steadily. "No, I believe you've already spent more than your fair share of time down there."
Her eyes flicked to his.
"It was my express decree that the prisoner would not receive visitation from anyone."
Reagan felt the sting those words inspired in Loki.
"Least of all a mortal whose very presence in Asgard puts all our people at risk - allowing the bond forged by the mark to grow - puts our people at risk," Odin told her. "And yet, my guards have grown suspicious. They report that the prisoner holds illusions in place. Illusions that they could not once detect at all, but have now begun to grow lazy, perhaps due to his attention being focused elsewhere."
Reagan began to flush under the implication.
Something in Odin shifted as he studied her, and Reagan glared back at him defiantly.
"I sense new magic in you," he murmured, as if to himself more than her.
Without warning, Odin lifted a hand and power surged through her. Reagan almost screamed under the force of it. Odin had inspected her power once when she had first arrived in Asgard, and it had felt uncomfortable, and invasive, but this-
Reagan! Loki's voice sounded somewhere in the distance but she had no choice but to shut him out as she threw her mental shields up with all her might to try and stave off the King's invasion. It was nothing like Loki's presence - even at the beginning when she hadn't wanted him there, it hadn't felt like this. This did not belong. It was not theirs.
She felt the way Odin inspected her shields, poking them for holes, for weaknesses, before finally, his power retreated, leaving her to stand there, shakily catching her breath. It was all too clear that he could have shattered her shields with the lightest of touches.
"Do you deny it?" Odin asked then as if nothing had happened. "Your constant presence in my dungeons, even against my order."
She glared at him.
"Everyone says that these marks are ancient magic. Magic beyond even your capability. You couldn't get rid of them. You couldn't undo them," Reagan glared at the king, still trying to steady her breath. "Why shouldn't I visit him? What harm is there in that?"
"What harm is there? For him to have an informant wandering freely through my Kingdom after his attempt on my life? After the desolation, he caused on Jotenheim and Midgard? After his complete upheaval of peace throughout the Nine Realms?"
"Say his name," Reagan murmured, studying him. "You haven't once said his name this entire conversation."
"You dare to-"
"Yes, I dare," she shot back defiantly. "Say his name."
Odin glared at her, unspeaking. Reagan shook her head.
"Do you have any idea of the pain that he's in?" she asked. "Loki. Your son. Do you have any idea what you've put him through? How much self-loathing he's suffered because of you."
"How strange it is, to have you speak but to hear his voice."
"This isn't him speaking. I've seen what you've done to him. You always made him feel second best. Less worthy. God, that fucking word - worthy - to use it for just one of them. That's so messed up. And all the while you kept it secret from him - who he really was - and then when he demanded answers you went and fell asleep-"
"Insolent girl!"
"And then he comes back, and instead of giving him answers - or a fucking apology - you treat him like the monster he believes he is and you punish him for his pain."
"That is not a matter a mortal has any right to speak upon."
"You haven't even visited him," Reagan said, ignoring him. "Not once. And maybe the reason you can't face him is because you know that you failed him."
"Loki has never had to want for anything," Odin snapped.
"Yeah, except for you," Reagan said steadily.
The king turned to look at her.
"I've been inside his head," she told him, emotion stirring in her. "I saw him on the edge of that bridge before he fell. You know, Thor wasn't the only one who needed you that day. Loki needed you too."
Odin glowered at her. He looked dangerous. She could feel the power ebbing from him. She didn't care.
"But no. Loki had messed up so you let him fall. You just throw your children away when they let you down," Reagan spat at him as the fury rose in her. "You banished Thor. Loki's locked away for the rest of his days for something you drove him to. Any other kids we don't know about because they're hidden away in a cell somewhere?"
She'd struck a nerve.
Overstepped.
By a mile.
Odin roared as he rounded on her and this time when his magic struck her, it didn't feel invasive. Instead, she felt... alone. Strangely alone. More alone than she had in a long time. Her heart started to thunder in her chest as she realised what it was. It was because he was gone. Loki was gone.
She couldn't feel him.
She couldn't feel him.
She reached desperately for the bond, panic searing through every last nerve in her body.
Where was it?
Where was it?
LOKI?! she called desperately, blindly into the nothingness.
And slowly, some of the panic in her began to ease as she realised that the bond was not gone, but had just been shielded with a new, stronger layer of magic.
If she had thought Loki's icy walls had been impenetrable... they'd been nothing - nothing - compared to this.
"What did you do?!" Reagan all but screeched at the King.
And a new strange calm had quickly settled over him. Once again he was perfectly composed. Steady. There was finality to it. As though... as though he had won.
"The shields you've managed to develop would have been of little use," he told her in that frightfully calm voice. "I've merely gifted you with the means to protect yourself."
"Little use for what?"
"For your return to Midgard," Odin said resolutely.
Reagan froze.
A chill rushed over her as the air rushed from Reagan's lungs.
No, no, no, no, no...
"I don't understand."
"It's what you wanted, is it not?" The King asked. "To return home. It could not be done before, with the bond between you exposed. Our enemy would have sensed it. But now with the foundations you've managed to build, which have now been reinforced, it should no longer be possible that they would detect you. So long as you hold the barrier in place, the Atraxis will not come for you. And so, I see no reason for you not to return home."
Reagan's stomach clenched painfully. She inspected this new foreign blockage that muted the bond to the point of non-existence. Compared to the shield she could now hold in place... she might as well have been holding a piece of paper up over her head.
"But I-"
"Your sanctuary in Asgard was conditional upon your compliance to our laws and our ways. Those conditions have been violated repeatedly. By your attacks upon my men. Your trespassing within our dungeons. Your open disrespect towards the crown." Odin told her steadily. "Your welcome in Asgard has drawn to a conclusion."
Tears prickled behind Reagan's eyes.
"But, what about Loki?" she whispered.
For the first time, Odin hesitated, no longer looking at her.
"You may think me a monster who holds no love for his child, but that couldn't be further from the truth," he told her in a sombre tone. "It was always my intention to keep you away from him, from the moment I learned of the mark."
"Why?"
"You are mortal," Odin said simply. "All too soon you will be not dust. A memory. Should he be forced to endure you withering, growing weak, your mind decaying? Better to shield him from the pain of it all than to allow him to endure you rotting from afar."
Those words stung her more than she ever could have thought possible. She hadn't allowed herself to dwell upon how impossible it all was. How impossible they were. She'd resisted, so persistently for so long. Denied it. Until she wasn't. Until she was falling. She didn't give herself time to think about...
Tears welled in Reagan's eyes as she watched the Allfather linger in the doorway.
"He will thank me for it," Odin murmured, more to himself than to Reagan. "In time, he will see this for the kindness that it is."
Odin looked her way one final time before he exited her chambers.
"I will send my guards for you at dawn. They will escort you to the Bifrost."
Reagan didn't return to Loki's cell as she'd promised she would. She couldn't bare to face him. She couldn't look him in the eye while she told him of the damage she'd done. She'd promised him... she'd promised him that he wouldn't have to shoulder his burden alone anymore. And that very same night she'd ruined everything beyond repair.
It wasn't long before she managed to lower the newly forged shields.
Reagan? Loki's voice entered her mind the second he was able to, there was something desperate in it. Are you alright?
As she sat at the end of her bed, playing with the tulle of a dress far too beautiful, fighting back tears and willing away the sunrise, she didn't know how to answer that question.
"I'm okay," she assured him in a watery voice, wanting to ease the panic she felt in him.
God, she hoped he wouldn't hate her.
What happened? he asked. The bond, it was as if for a moment-- I thought he'd...
"I'm sorry," Reagan whispered.
She felt Loki hesitate. He brushed against the bond, uncertain.
Sorry for what?
Reagan's chin quivered as she let him in, showing him what had just come to pass between her and the Allfather. How badly she'd lost her temper. How monumentally she'd misstepped. Loki inspected the memory for a long while, turning it this way and that, weighing every word that was spoken. When he last spoke again, there was a cold acceptance in his voice that Reagan cringed away from.
I see.
It was all he said on the matter.
She felt him withdrawing from her, his essence ebbing away from the bond.
"Please don't go," she whispered.
And Loki stilled, caught in the battle between what they both wanted and what was easier.
And they both lingered in it. With the link open the bitterness was twofold. So was the regret and the anger and the loneliness. But at least this way, they were together in it.
And she had asked him to stay. So, of course, that is what he did.
Silence fell heavily over them for a long while. In the hours that passed, they both found themselves laying on their own respective beds staring up at two different ceilings, with what might as well have been lightyears of distance between them. They hadn't spoken much, but neither seemed quite ready to seal themselves off from the other.
"Just because I'm leaving doesn't mean we need to cut ties," Reagan murmured at last, even in little more than a whisper her voice sounded too loud for her empty chambers.
That was always the plan, Loki replied, and where she'd expected malice from him, she found comfort. It made her heart ache.
"But things are different now," she said, despising the hope in her voice. "Aren't they?"
Yes, they are. Loki agreed gently. You're going home. You can't spend your life talking, in your head, to some madman in a prison cell a million lightyears away.
Reagan couldn't help but smile a little, even as tears began to well in her eyes. She rolled onto her side to cuddle deeper into her pillow, trying to find some form of comfort in it.
"But what if I want to?" she whispered.
I won't let you. It's not safe. I won't risk the Atraxis detecting you. Not even for... There's no future for us, Reagan. You know it as well as I do.
Reagan closed her eyes, a horrible, empty ache swelling in her chest. And she knew it was hers but it was his too. Everything laid bare like that on the table. Too late. Far too late.
"What about your plan to escape?" she asked.
I never had any intention of escaping. Odin reinforced the spell work on this cell himself. There's no way out. I'll be in here until his dying day. And likely beyond it.
"But then why did you agree to help me learn how to put up the shields?"
His voice was so impossibly soft when he answered her.
Because you asked me to.
Reagan felt as if her ribcage was cracking open, exposing her insides to be torn apart by the elements.
"This isn't fair," she breathed.
No... No, it's not.
And it wasn't. How long had she wanted to go home? How long had she been trying to, only to be told it wasn't an option? And now, just as she was realising it was the last thing she wanted... Reagan wondered exactly when it had happened, that she'd stopped longing for a place and instead started feeling homesick for a person.
"Loki, I'm sorry," she murmured.
I told you not to apologise, he said, not unkindly. And for what it's worth, I've never had anyone stand in my corner the way you did tonight. I'll always be grateful for you, Reagan.
Okay, what if once every year, we both bring down our shields and we talk to each other, just for a little while?
The eve was growing late, the faintest hint of a sunrise beginning to glow on the horizon. Loki closed his eyes and willed away the ache in his chest - the weakness in him. There was something hopeful in her voice, it sounded the way it always did when she wanted to make a game of something.
Borrowed time, he reminded himself.
"Come now, I don't have time for that," Loki chided.
He couldn't risk the temptation. Couldn't risk himself allowing the link to open up again because he knew if he did, there'd be no closing it. She'd be at risk. The Atraxis would sense her and she'd be alone, exposed and defenceless. He couldn't do that to her.
But then, just because Loki was so very, very weak he considered the end of her lifespan. How frightfully close it was compared to his own. And he allowed himself to indulge.
"Once every fifty years," he conceded, leaving all emotion out of the words.
One last time. One last time to speak to her before she was gone. To know that she'd been okay - and of course, she would be okay without him - but to rest easy in the knowledge that she had lived and lived happily before she was taken from the universe. How much living she would manage in those fifty years, all while he remained in that cell. She'd go on and change and shift, grow and age, and in time she'd forget him, she'd find peace. And every day he'd think of her. A lifetime for her. A heartbeat for him. And then she'd be gone.
Fifty years... she repeated softly.
He knew she wanted to argue, but she didn't. She knew she wouldn't win. He would not relent. He needed her safe. And he wanted her to let go, to move on.
I'll be old. Her voice sounded gently in his mind. My skin will be all wrinkled and I'll have arthritis in my hands.
Loki closed his eyes and nodded, trying to accept the cruelty of fate that she would so quickly wither away.
"You'll have lived a full life," he told her, the words tasting a little bitter on his tongue, though he hid that from her as best he could. "You'll have found a good man to fall in love with - one who gives you a life you deserve. And you'll have children, each older than you are right now."
And you'll still look exactly the same, he could feel the way she smiled sadly at the thought of it. So you'll make fun of me for my grey hair.
"Even though I'll secretly still think that you're beautiful."
And you'll be happy, Reagan said, her voice full of emotion as she allowed herself to indulge in the impossible little fantasy. Because you'll have found somewhere that you feel like you really belong. And that will make me so happy...
And Loki didn't tell her that it couldn't be done, because he'd realised that very evening that he'd finally found exactly that, but for her sake, he was going to let her go.
And we'll laugh about the dicks I drew all over your bed, Reagan added quickly.
"We'll never laugh about that," Loki retorted, even as his lips curled up against his will.
They lingered in their heavy silence, each overwhelmed with sorrow and regret and... missingness. How strange it was to mourn not only a thing you hadn't lost yet, but a thing you never truly had.
Loki... Reagan said, breathlessly. I wish...
"I know," he hushed her gently, sending all the gentle comfort he could muster down the link. "So do I."
He could feel that she was at her breaking point and while exhaustion threatened to take her, she fought against it with all her might. It was only adding to her distress. Loki clenched his jaw, steeling himself.
"It's not long until sunrise," he said. "You should sleep."
No, I don't want to. I don't want to leave you.
He could hardly stand it anymore.
"Get some rest, mortal," Loki murmured. "You'll need it for tomorrow."
Wait. Loki, please-
Loki lifted his shields, biting down on the bitterness which filled him as he found himself alone in his mind once more. As he would soon, once again, always be. The realisation struck him like lightning, making it hard to breathe. And all-consuming rage - rage that he'd almost forgotten he was capable of - filled him. Rage at Odin and the way he had dictated the course of Loki's life, kept him in the shadows about the truth. Rage at the universe, for dangling her before him, just for him to know that he could never have her. Rage that Odin was right. That regardless of everything else, she would live a mortal lifespan. But even that - a few short years with her - he would be denied it.
Odin would deny him.
The way the bond had sealed shut under his magic like it had been filled with cement. Block, muted, impermeable. It had been so resolutely invaded. So un-her, that for a moment - a fleeting, unbearable few seconds - Loki had thought perhaps Odin had killed her. And all the while Loki was locked away beneath the city, helpless - useless. And now Odin was sending her away, and Loki was just as helpless. Just as useless.
He was going to lose her.
And there was nothing he could do.
Rage coursed red-hot through his very veins. Poisonous. Toxic. And painfully familiar.
As soon as Loki raised shields firmly - stubbornly - in place, Reagan had finally allowed herself to cry. She sobbed, slightly relieved to finally be able to allow the heartbreak to flow through her, no longer having to shield Loki from it, and yet all the while willing him to come back.
Panic gripped her that maybe this was it. Maybe it was done.
What if he just never allowed her in again? What if, when the morning came, and Odin's guards were sent for her to march her down the Bifrost, he kept his shields in place and she never heard from him again?
The very thought of it sent ice through her veins.
No, she determined. Loki wouldn't do that. Not to her. No matter what else, he would say goodbye to her. He would let her say goodbye.
Goodbye...
How impossible a concept it seemed.
For so long, she'd wanted to be rid of him. To even think it now inspired such self-loathing.
If only she hadn't fought it - hadn't been so impossibly stubborn. If she had just listened to what she was told early on. Frigga. Sygran. The mark was never wrong. Trust it.
Trust it.
Trust it.
If she had just done that, given them more time, made peace earlier, then perhaps...
Reagan's mind wandered back to that first morning in the clearing. Just after Loki had helped her escape Halvor and had told her of the most beautiful place in Asgard. It was where she had first felt comfortable with his presence in her mind. Where they had poked harmless fun at each other and made each other laugh.
The most beautiful place in all of Asgard.
She wanted to see it one last time.
Reagan pulled herself from her bed and shed the gown she'd worn to the ball. Earlier that evening she'd thought it was so impossibly beautiful. Now it seemed a dull, lifeless thing in a heap on the floor. She wondered vaguely if the clearing might look the same. She wondered if all things would.
For fear of an unwanted confrontation with Halvor or Fandral or any other unexpected interactions, she donned her super-suit that morning.
Don't call it that, Loki would have said if he'd still be present in her mind. The very thought of it made her eyes prickle with tears.
She threw a dark cloak over herself, raising the hood over her head to shield her face. Though it was still early in the morning, and the palace halls would likely still be deserted, she didn't want to take the risk of being seen. She had no doubt that word had spread like wildfire about what had happened at the ball, and if anyone had seen Odin coming or going from her chambers, the rumours would be even worse. She wanted to avoid their gazes.
As Reagan made her way out of the castle and followed a path to a clearing that Loki had revealed to her so very long ago, she was not aware that rumours of a mortal girl had, in fact, been spreading far and wide throughout the city.
But these were not the rumours she had anticipated.
These were not rumours of her.
Instead, the Asgardians whispered of Thor's absence from the ball of the Convergence. They gossiped of how the Prince was last spotted in Medina earlier in the evening, celebrating the success of the battle against the marauders on Vanaheim. Some whispered of how he had declined a drink with the good Lady Sif and had disappeared for the rest of the night. Those who knew his patterns reported that instead of making an appearance at the ball as was expected of him, he made his nightly trip along the Bifrost to pay a visit to Heimdall. The rumour was that when he journeyed there he always asked the same thing - for news of the mortal woman he'd met when he was banished to Midgard. That he watched over her. Every single evening.
However, this evening was different. And the reason the rumours ran so rampant, was because upon this eve Thor had gone to retrieve her. And so, Jane Foster had arrived in Asgard and was in possession of the Aether.
Notes:
Thank you so much for all the well wishes on my last update! I love you all. Though, this chapter may seem like I don't... I'm going to try and have another update done this week! So keen to get into what happens next :D
Chapter 23: Chapter 23
Notes:
Hi everyone! Sorry this update took so long, I had to rewrite it like 5 times because it just wasn't behaving. I don't like just regurgitating what happened in the movies so this chap has ended up looking more like "deleted scenes" surrounding on screen events during Dark World. But on the plus side, it's really long soooo. Anyway, I hope it works and I hope you like it!
Happy reading <3
Chapter Text
"What's the matter with you today? You're not yourself," Frigga asked, observing her son as concern brewed in her heart.
There was an anger to him, one she'd not witnessed for months now. There was poison in his words. Malice in his scowl. A darkness in his very soul. Something that she'd been so glad to note had all but dissipated of late.
He'd been lighter, more centred, there was life in his eyes again.
She had suspected she had the mortal to thank for that.
Today, however, every word out of her mouth was wrong - something he wanted to pick at, to be cruel about - as though he were looking for a fight. He wanted to hurt her. No. That wasn't it. It was as though... not that he just wanted to hurt her, but he wanted her to hurt him.
Why did want pain? The thought of it broke her heart.
Loki laughed bitterly at her question.
"How long can a creature be caged before it loses its own true nature - what it once was out in the wild?"
Frigga didn't respond.
This wasn't about his cell, not really. She knew him well enough to know that he never spoke so plainly. If it were truly his imprisonment that had him so on edge, he'd never just tell her outright. Rather, he'd have some jab to make about unjust laws, perhaps how short Thor's banishment had been.
So not the cell, then. Not his sentence. But perhaps, what it was truly keeping him from.
Frigga was no fool, she saw plainly just how much he'd come to care about the girl.
She was all too aware that something had been shifting in him of late, that he and his mortal had been growing closer. It was a sweet, funny thing to watch unfold, how stubbornly they both fought it. How oblivious they each seemed to be about just how similar they were.
Frigga longed to ask him about her.
But she knew better than to mention her name.
Loki did speak of her from time to time now, but it had to be on his terms. He'd mention her nonchalantly, here and there. As if as an afterthought - as if in passing. Casual. Entirely too casual. And there was nothing casual about Loki. Every word he chose with care. So the fact that he spoke of her at all...
It was always something frivolous. Something foolish she'd mentioned to him the last time they spoke, or a strange observation about Asgard. The mortal, he'd called her, always the mortal. It was only recently that he'd started to refer to her by her name.
He'd flinched the first time he'd let it slip. As if that had been enough. And in truth, it was, that one simple little slip of the tongue was all Frigga needed to understand where her son's heart lay.
She hadn't reacted. She'd pretended not to even have noticed. Even though she sorely longed to beg for more - anything more.
Please, Frigga had wanted to ask. Please speak to me of her. Tell me of your mortal. Tell me until you've run out of things to say. And then tell me more, still. Tell me how she's waking you up again, bringing you back. Tell me all your thoughts and secrets, just like you used to do. Show me my son again.
But she did no such thing because if she had, Loki would only push her away.
And that was exactly why now she made no mention of the mortal. She didn't ask if perhaps the pair had gotten into a disagreement. If maybe, that was the reason for his foul temper.
He was trying so hard to keep himself composed, to have that cool, calm manner about him. But today the mask was slipping, today the cracks were all too obvious.
And soon, she noticed something more. Something she had not seen in him for an age. It was his desire to tell her something. Something he could not quite bring himself to say. She knew what that meant too. It was something that made him feel vulnerable. A truth from deep within his heart.
What is it, sweet boy? She longed to ask him.
But Loki was Loki. No... more than that, Loki was this Loki. This cold, jaded, angry, bitter version of himself. And so he was not going to let her in. Not on this day.
And so instead, he stared out into the dungeons, watching more of the marauders being ushered into their new dwellings from the battles of the other realms and he sneered at the sight.
"Odin continues to bring me new friends... How thoughtful."
Ah. So that was it. Odin.
What had he done to inspire this fresh loathing in their son?
Their conversation quickly devolved from there, as Frigga knew it would. With Loki lashing out at her in anger. And with Frigga helping in the only way she knew how, by granting him the pain she knew he wanted in the kindest way she could. And as she faded from the cell, still staring up at one of the faces she adored most in all the world, her eyes filled with tears.
So, perhaps today she couldn't reach him. But she would try again tomorrow. She would always try again tomorrow.
As the sun rose over a secret, hidden-away valley and dazzling lights danced overhead and the songbirds woke all throughout the gorge, Reagan only felt emptiness.
She'd ruined everything. Everything.
She'd been stupid. Let her emotions get the better of her. And now she was going home... and it was strangely the last thing in the world that she wanted.
Be careful what you wish for, she reminded herself bitterly.
And the worst of it was that Loki had been kind about it. He hadn't lashed out or called her an idiot, or anything of the sort. He'd been calm. Resigned. He'd offered her comfort. He was gentle with her.
He was always so gentle with her lately. Ever since that day that he'd shown her how to control her flames, he'd been that way. Protective. No, she thought, it had been before that - long before it - it was only then that she'd seen it for what it was.
Too late. All of it was all too late.
She'd almost wanted him to yell at her. To spit in her face that she was getting exactly what she wanted. To tell her he'd never wanted her there anyway, that he didn't need her.
It almost would have been easier. Easier than there's no future for us, Reagan. You know it as well as I do.
She winced at the very thought of it.
The guards hadn't come for her yet. Reagan figured they'd be sent to her chambers, but she didn't think it was a big deal if they couldn't find her there. It's not like she was hiding - well, not really... maybe some small part of her hoped they wouldn't find her. But she knew Heimdall was all-seeing. She knew that if Odin wanted her gone, then all he had to do was send his guards to Heimdall for her whereabouts. She wouldn't be able to outrun them for long even if she'd wanted to.
Unbeknownst to her, the Allfather had become distracted by the presence of another mortal in Asgard in the form of Jane Foster. And she carried with her a far more pressing danger to the people of Asgard than a soul mark with a traitor and a shitty attitude towards their king.
And, as it would turn out, Reagan would learn of all this far too soon.
An explosion sounded suddenly in the distance and Reagan's brow furrowed. Was it an explosion? She'd never heard anything like that in Asgard before. Slowly, she stood, listening, looking in the direction of the city, though it was concealed from her view by the thick of the woods she'd journeyed through to get to the clearing.
Soon, there came another boom. Deafening. It shook the ground beneath her feet. Closer. So much closer, as if from somewhere in the heart of the city.
Reagan's heart began to thunder in her chest as a chill swept over her.
Loki, did you hear that? What is it? She called to him, a sickening sort of dread beginning to bloom in her. What's happening?
The moment he heard her voice - felt her panic - he was there, and even this tiny presence of him did something to ease her fear.
It's some sort of invasion, he told her, something strange in his voice.
"I thought that wasn't possible in Asgard." Her stomach clenched suddenly. "You don't think... is it the Atraxis? Are they here for us?"
No, he assured her calmly. No, some of the creatures brought into the dungeons this morning made an escape. Creatures from Svartálfheim.
"Where?"
It's known as the Dark World. It's a wasteland. The only source of light there comes from a black hole. I thought- we thought their people to be all but decimated in their last battle against King Bor.
"What are they doing here?"
I don't know... I don't know...
Even where she was she could hear panicked cries. Screams of pain. Asgardians were a warrior race but that didn't mean they all knew how to fight. There were still children. Parents who needed help. The elderly. Those were not the screams of trained warriors that reached her. They were common folk. Reagan began to make her way towards the path back through the trees but Loki's voice made her still.
Don't.
There was so much pained desperation in that single word. She felt it. So potent it was almost like a physical wall came up in front of her to block her way. She shook her head, biting back against the lump that swelled in her throat.
Don't go.
"Why not?" Reagan whispered.
Stay where you are, Loki pleaded. You'll be safe there. Just stay away from the city.
"But I can hear screaming," her voice wavered with emotion.
She didn't want to deny him, not when she felt his raw panic - panic for her - she didn't want to make him sit there in it, but she could hear children crying. She could hear screams of horror. She'd heard those sounds before. She'd caused them. But this time... this time she could help. She was in control.
Don't worry about that now. Just stay out of sight. Please. Reagan, just-- please.
"People might need help. I can't just hide... You know why I can't do that."
Reagan--
"I have to go."
Reagan, I can't-- I can't endure being trapped down here knowing that you're- I'm begging you to stay where it's safe.
But even as she heard the desperation in his voice, she heard people screaming in the distance.
"Loki, I'm sorry... I have to help."
Reagan pulled her shields up, she couldn't stand to hear him beg as she ran headfirst into danger. And she needed to focus.
She knew it was cruel of her, to block him out when he was so desperately trying to protect her the only way he possibly could. But she couldn't just stand idly by - she couldn't - and she knew that if Loki truly knew her then he would understand that. She needed to help - to do whatever she could to help the people who were screaming.
As she reentered the city, it was chaos all around her. People screamed and ran in all directions. There was fire and ruin. Stone structures were destroyed down to rubble, dust filling the air.
Overhead, strange long ships sped towards the palace and Asgard's defences fired at them with everything they had. Reagan gazed up, hopeful as a brilliant, golden dome began to form over the city - sizzling with power - it looked like the cell walls in the dungeons, only a thousand times brighter, more powerful.
"Please," Reagan whispered as they slowly ascended all around them. Slowly. Painfully slowly.
As the barriers rose up, relief washed over her as she watched one of those strange foreign ships go speeding directly into the building shield. It exploded into a brilliant ball of flames, utterly destroyed. Her heart clenched. They were going to be alright. So long as the barrier forged, they were going to be alright. There didn't need to be a fight.
And just like that, as if she'd jinxed it, the barriers slipped away, disintegrating into nothingness.
The city was exposed.
And the ships descended upon Asgard.
The screeching clash of metal on metal filled the air around Fandral and his men as they fought back the creatures invading the palace. They had thought the battle was won, having fought back the escape efforts in the dungeons but that had all been a ploy - a distraction - so that they hadn't been looking when the true threat had arrived.
An invasion upon Asgardian soil had not occurred for millennia. It was all but unheard of, and yet here they were. The forces of Svartálfheim.
They came with technology his soldiers hadn't been unprepared for. Strange grenades, so simple a thing. So easily tossed by even the weakest among the invading ranks, to deliver such devastating destruction.
Black holes.
Fandral had watched as black holes had opened up around his men, sucking them inside, twisting them, morphing the shapes of their spines, making them scream for mercy before they had disappeared.
Beside him, another of his men fell with a strangled cry. Fandral retreated a few steps as he swung his weapon expertly at the creatures descending upon him. But then he made a mistake - a fatal one. He'd forgotten about the soldier who had been slain behind him and so he tripped, losing his footing entirely.
The air rushed from his lungs as his back collided with the stone floor.
Fandral stared up at the masked creature in horror as it raised its weapon. So this was to be the last sight he saw in this realm. This cold, expressionless mask worn by the stranger who would slay him.
So be it then. If he was to die, he would do it gazing up at the one who would strike him down. He would not close his eyes. He would not look away. For Asgard.
It was then that an intense wall of heat exploded in front of him. Scorchingly hot. Brilliantly bright. The air filled with shrieks of pain as the blast sent his attackers flying through the air. The entire atmosphere ignited with unbearable heat. The force of the flames sent the creatures hurling into the wall, knocking them all unconscious. And then just as quickly as it had come it dissipated.
"Holy shit."
Fandral glanced towards the voice to find the mortal girl standing there, completely engulfed in flames.
Reagan whipped around, taking in her surroundings, her chest heaving as she caught her breath, her fire crackling with each movement, scanning for any more threats. When she was satisfied that the coast was clear, she doused her flames before hurrying over to where Fandral lay on his back, watching her. She reached and took hold of his hand without hesitation helping to haul him to his feet.
"Are you okay?" she asked, shakily.
Fandral nodded, slightly shell-shocked by her display of power. He clutched her forearm and she helped haul him up and felt the tremor in her fingers.
"That was totally crazy. What the hell was that thing?" she asked slightly breathlessly. "That was a bad guy, right? It looked like a bad guy. And I assumed if it was attacking you then-"
"They're called the Dark Elves," he told her, rolling his shoulder and wincing at the pain it caused. "There's been an invasion."
"Yeah, no shit. What do they want?"
"Thor brought a mortal woman here last night," Fandral explained, still trying to catch his breath. "The one he speaks of; Jane. She's come into possession of an element known as the Aether. Its power is unfathomable. The Elves have waged war for it in the past before it was lost to them. They must have sensed its presence here. Must have come for it."
"Okay," Reagan said, nodding as she tried to process this information. She sucked in a low, steadying breath. "Okay... and... and is everyone else dead?"
Fandral winced.
"Of the band I was leading, yes. They have strange weapons. We couldn't defend ourselves. I managed to hold them off a little longer but if you hadn't come- Thank you, Reagan," Fandral said sincerely. "I believe I may owe you my life."
"Yeah, don't sweat it," Reagan responded uncomfortably, avoiding his direct gaze. "So what now? What do we do?"
"Protocol is that we should secure this area, and make an attempt to rendezvous with our own forces."
"Okay, well, lead the way. I've got your back."
A strange expression passed over Fandral's features as he studied her, but then he nodded at her slowly. As they fell into step beside each other, the tension between them was palpable. So much had been said, so much had been done.
Reagan glanced his way and couldn't help but chuckle a little.
"Nice eyebrows by the way," she muttered under her breath as they made their way slowly through the palace.
Fandral scoffed. His facial hair had been grown back overnight with the help of some of Asgard's healers.
"Why, thank you," he quipped, albeit a little saltily. "I took a tonic."
They fell silent for a few moments, still moving slowly, their gazes fixed on their surroundings.
"I'm not going to apologise to you," she told him then.
She sounded stubborn. As if she expected him to challenge her on the matter.
Fandral smiled at that a little.
"No," he agreed. "I wouldn't expect that you would. Nor do I think you should... I may have overstepped last night."
Reagan's brow furrowed in slight confusion but she didn't respond. Did Fandral know that she was going to be
"Have you spoken to him?" Fandral asked gently. "About... about what I told you."
"That's actually none of your business," Reagan said shortly.
"Right... right. Of course not. Forgive me."
Reagan glanced his way for a moment, a little uncertain.
"Do you know if... I heard there was a fight in the dungeons. Is he..."
Her voice was laced with a tremor of concern, and Fandral's newly grown brows pinched together. She cared, he realised. She really, truly cared that the dark prince was alright.
"He's fine," Fandral told her, his voice softer than it had been. "They didn't breach his cell walls. He's still imprisoned but he is unharmed."
Reagan nodded, she loosed a shaky breath, seemingly relieved.
What a strange way to have worded it, Fandral thought to himself. Why had he done it so?
Because he could read it in her face, he realised the tension she held in her jawline. She was truly worried about him. While they roamed the halls of the palace, looking for the creatures who wanted to destroy them, her thoughts were with him. His safety. This mortal girl, whether Loki was using her or not, she truly cared about the trickster. Fandral had been so blinded, so caught up in the possibility that she was a threat. And of course, he'd thought it so impossible that he could mean anything to her.
But maybe it was possible that she looked at Loki and saw something that no one else saw. Those marks they bore, maybe she was privy to something secret - something other - something which made him make sense. Maybe there was something more that made him more than just a monster to her.
For when did a monster cease to be a monster?
When you loved it.
And at that moment, watching the breath of relief she sighed at the knowledge of his safety even when all the danger was up here, where she now stood, Fandral was certain that's what this was. She loved him. The mortal girl loved Loki. She'd seen all the bad. The poison. The ugliness. And yet, she loved him.
Reagan sensed him studying her and grew uncomfortable under his gaze. She still had not brought herself to meet his eye, only glancing at him fleetingly before turning her attention back to their surroundings.
"Come on, we need to focus up," Reagan said, though this time her voice was a little kinder. "There's no way in hell I'm getting sucked into one of those freaky grenade things."
Fandral nodded, following her lead.
They swept through the palace, past bodies both Asgardian and Dark Elf alike. With every soldier they passed, Fandral's features grew all the more solemn. These soldiers. These fallen men and women. So many of them were people he knew, fought beside, celebrated with.
"I'm sorry," Reagan told him gently, evidently seeing the turmoil he was experiencing.
Fandral nodded in acceptance.
"It is the way of the warrior," he said simply.
"Sir!"
The pair whipped around to watch a dozen soldiers approaching them then.
Relief washed over her as she spotted one particular face in amongst them. Skurge approached her, a dark expression upon his features as he side-eyed Fandral who moved to speak to the other soldiers.
"You alright?" he asked, his voice low enough for only her to hear.
"Yeah," she assured him. "Yeah, we're good. I kind of saved his life so I think he's done tormenting me for now. Are you okay?"
Skurge nodded, though he looked rather shaken.
"You see those fuckin' weapons they're carryin' around?"
A chill swept down Reagan's spine, as she shook her head.
"No, but Fandral told me about them. But we're okay. We're going to be okay."
"Alright... Just stay by me, yeah dude?"
A smile pulled at her features.
"You got it, dude."
As soon as she spotted him, Reagan's stomach dropped. She moved slowly, past Skurge who followed her gaze to find Thor trudging slowly towards them, his gaze downcast, Mjolnir hanging limply by his side. She knew just from the look on his face, that dejected stare, that something terrible had happened. The colour was gone from his face, his eyes were rimmed red. Dread filled her. Part of her didn't want to ask - as if she already knew.
"Thor?" she said carefully as she reached him, touching his arm to get his attention. "Thor, what's wrong?"
Thor looked up, and though his eyes met his, it was as though he was staring through her.
"They killed her."
"Killed who?"
"My mother."
And her first thought - her very first thought - was that for the rest of her years, Reagan knew she would be grateful that Odin had medalled with her shields. That Loki had not been listening then to hear that.
Her stomach turned to ice and she watched as fresh tears brimmed in his eyes.
"Oh, Thor," Reagan whispered, wrapping her arms around him tightly. "Thor, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
He wrapped his massive frame around her, his forehead falling to her shoulder. A silent sob shuddered through him. And Reagan was vaguely surprised that he reacted in such a way, she'd barely spoken to him in the past few months, but then she remembered a calm and kind moment the two had shared so many moons ago.
That mark... it bonds us too. It makes us family.
She squeezed him again just a little tighter.
"Does Loki know?" Reagan asked gently when she pulled away to look at him at last, her heart clenching.
Thor nodded vaguely, his eyes still cast to the ground. Still in shock. Still processing.
"Father sent a guard to inform him," Thor said.
Her breath rushed from her lungs as tears stung her eyes.
"...a guard?"
She sounded mortified.
Her voice was as fragile as broken glass, a whispered thing that barely escaped her throat. Heartbroken. Heartbreaking.
She backed away slowly, and both Fandral and Skurge turned her way.
"Reagan-"
"I'm sorry, I have to go," she whispered. "I have to go to him."
She turned on her heel and retreated towards her chambers as fast as her feet would carry her.
Behind her, Fandral moved to follow her, though he wasn't exactly sure as to why. A heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned to find Skurge there, who only shook his head, sternly.
And as she reached for the bond, tearing away Odin's new reinforcements to get to him only to be met with Loki's own shields she felt it.
Agony.
Sheer agony.
It left her slightly breathless.
And her brisk walk quickly transformed into an all-out sprint as she made her way as fast as she possibly could, to her chambers.
It was stifling. All consuming.
The moment she projected into the cell, it was as if she were drowning in it.
Tidal waves.
Of grief.
Of anger.
Of pain.
"Loki..." Reagan managed to gasp his name, almost choking on the overwhelming force of emotion coursing from her.
He hadn't realised she was there. She saw it in the way he went rigid at the sound of her voice. And when he turned to face her, his face was twisted into an expression of unfiltered loathing.
"What do you think you're doing here?" His voice was venom.
"Loki, I'm so sorry," Reagan whispered as she stared up at him, tears welling in her eyes.
The pain.
It was suffocating.
"You think I want your pity?" he spat at her. "You honestly think your presence is of some comfort to me right now? How utterly pathetic."
"It's okay," she promised him, ignoring his words.
He snarled at her.
"I am so sick of your incessant company. Your need for attention. Your senseless, aggravating questions. I have had it with all of it. With you. So why won't you just leave me alone, you worthless little-"
And even as he spat those hateful words at her, even as he snarled at her with that expression so full of loathing, Reagan saw it for what it was.
A mask.
She felt his pain. His need and his inability to ask for help.
And so she ignored the hatred radiating off of him, stepped beyond that searing rage. Accepted it for what it truly was. And she went to him, pulling him slowly and gently into her arms.
"I'm right here," she promised. "Loki, I'm so sorry."
Loki froze, she felt it, the way he went rigid against her. She could feel that he wanted to push her away - force her to leave - to be alone. But that was a want he had trained into himself. An instinct. A defence mechanism. It was not a need. And she felt that too. How desperately he needed her there. And so she held him. Drew herself closer to him, pressed her body to his, and wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she knew he needed.
"I'm here," she whispered.
And slowly, as if against his own will, his arms soon encircled her in return. Gently at first but slowly his grip on her tightened until he was holding onto her - clinging onto her - just as tightly she held him. And even as he buried his face in her hair, and he squeezed her tight, she could feel him holding back. The way he held his breath. The rigidity in him.
"It's okay," she told him gently. "I've got you. You can let go."
And just like that it crashed over her like a tidal wave, and Reagan wasn't sure if the sob that escaped their tangle of limbs was hers or his. And as he finally crumbled, clinging to her, holding onto her as if she might disappear, Reagan opened the link as wide as she possibly could. She poured her heart into it, hoping he could feel exactly how much he'd come to mean to her. That she cared about him, that he was important, that he mattered, that he had someone.
"It's okay," she promised. "You're not alone... I've got you. I'm here."
And finally - secretly - she sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Goddess Kaha or whatever force in the universe it was that had led them to find each other. She thanked her for the marks, for forcing them to learn to understand each other, and that if nothing else... That Loki didn't have to endure this moment alone. She thanked the goddess that against all odds she was there with him.
Hours later, Reagan sat beside Loki in a decimated cell, leaning against the wall in a heavy, pained silence. Her hand was in his, her head upon his shoulder, her other arm wrapped comfortingly around his bicep. Loki didn't lean into her - he'd barely moved - but his grasp on her hand never loosened. And so she stayed.
The link between them was open and raw with the fresh pain of loss. So overwhelming that all Reagan wanted to do was to wince away from it, but it was Loki's and so she embraced it - helped him to hold it. Wrapped her very essence around it. She tried her best to soothe the pain in what little ways she could blanketing it in comfort, in support, in her presence.
I'm here... You're not alone... I'm here...
Loki hardly reacted. Hardly moved.
It was like he was numb.
It broke Reagan's heart.
But not even for one second did his grip loosen on her hand. It was as if she was an anchor for him. And so she stayed. She'd stay for as long as he needed.
"The last thing I ever said to her..." Loki murmured at last. "Was that she wasn't my mother."
A tear slipped down Reagan's face as she turned her head to press a kiss against his shoulder.
"She never would have believed you really thought that," she whispered. "I promise you that. She knows how much you love her, Loki. You know she does."
"Did," Loki corrected her bitterly.
"Does," Reagan insisted, squeezing his bicep just a little in a small gesture of comfort. "Does."
Loki didn't respond.
"I know it seems impossible right now," she went on, "but you find little ways to keep her with you. That's how you keep her alive."
"Is this how it felt?" Loki asked quietly. "When you lost her?"
Reagan knew who he meant. She closed her eyes, images of her own mother filtering into her mind. How largely she used to loom in Reagan's life, like a focal point. Watching how her brightness slowly faded when she got ill. And then the absence of her, how it somehow became a presence of its own. The missingness of her in the moments Reagan had wanted her.
"Yes," she murmured gently, fresh tightened her throat though she tried her best to hold it back. "It felt like this."
He held her hand just a little tighter as if even in his moment of suffering, he wanted to take her pain away. That gentle heart of his that he tried so hard to hide from her - from everyone.
How she adored him. How she wished she could eat his pain.
"I'm sorry... For the things I said to you earlier."
Reagan just shook her head.
"Don't be. You're hurting, I know that."
"I can't tell you what it means..." Loki's voice sounded so small. "That you're here."
She gave a small, sad smile.
"There's nowhere else in the world I'd be right now," she assured him.
Silence fell between them once more, Reagan's hand in Loki's, her head upon his shoulder.
"I told him where to go," Loki murmured.
Reagan's brow furrowed.
"Who?"
"The creature that escaped the dungeons," he hung his head, ashamed. "I was angry at Odin... for sending you away. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted him to suffer... What if I-"
"Don't do that," Reagan whispered lifting her head to look at him. "Please, Loki don't do that."
His eyes finally met hers and the pain there was unfathomable. It tore at her heart.
His pain, she could barely stomach it. She just wanted to undo it. To take it from him and swallow it up, so that she could feel it for him.
"Tell me what you need," Reagan begged softly. She just wanted it to stop. To ease. "Tell me what to do. And I'll do it."
"Just stay," Loki whispered, his hand in hers. "Just, please... stay with me."
"Alright..." and as she rested her head back upon his shoulder, she was calm. Resolute. "I will."
Reagan stood out on a lonely wharf on the edge of the water under the night sky. Back on the edge of the city, the people of Asgard had gathered for the funeral procession of the Queen and the soldiers who fell during the invasion. There were so many people there, so many that Loki would not want to see in this moment, so many who had hurt him. And so she had chosen this place, shrouded in darkness where he could bid goodbye to his mother alone.
The link was open, still singing with pain and sadness.
But at the very least it felt as though they were together.
"Can you see it?" she asked him gently.
I can see it... His voice was soft, and though he tried to mask it, Reagan still felt the pain there.
Her heart clenched, matching his.
Loki hadn't wanted her to go when she'd first suggested it. He'd said he didn't want to see it.
Let me help you, Reagan had insisted softly. Loki, let me help you say goodbye to her.
And so he had relented. Trusting her that this was the right thing. And he watched through Reagan's eyes as she was ferried out to sea. The Queen of Asgard. Frigga. His mother.
She steeled herself. And so this was it.
"Do you want to say anything?" Reagan asked gently.
What point is there in that?
There was malice in his voice, she knew that he was angry. And that he knew the point exactly. But his bitterness - and his pride - would not allow him to indulge.
But that was okay. Because if he couldn't bring himself to do it, then she would do it for him. She'd help him.
"Do you... do you mind if I say something then?"
She felt him scowl just a little.
If you feel that you must.
Reagan gazed out over the water as a flaming arrow soared out above them, landing perfectly in the boat that ferried Frigga's body out off the edge of Asgard. She watched as the whole thing ignited. And soon the boats that followed
She brushed tenderly against the bond between them, and she was both standing on the edge of that body of water and inside that cell with him as she stared out over the water.
"There's something so impatient about the pain of losing someone you love. The way that it won't relent after it first rips you open," she murmured softly as she watched the boats of the fallen soldiers follow Frigga out onto the water. "It tells you 'I'm here, and I'm here to stay and there is nothing you can do about it but... endure.' And I think the reason it feels that way is because part of you dies with them. Part of you that will always be tied to them goes too. And so there's this open wound where a part of you - both of you - is supposed to be. But I think that that's a good thing. Because it means that person who you love so very much didn't have to go alone. It means you're still with them. And it means they're still with you too. She's still with you, Loki... just like my mom is still with me. And even though death took her body, the minds of all the people who love her are alive with memories of her. She lives on in us. That's where we hold her and be with her and keep her. That's how we honour them. That's how we be with them."
At last Frigga's boat drifted out over the edge of Asgard, and instead of falling, a brilliant glow of glittering lights, as bright as stars, rose from the boat and ascended into the heavens above. And just like that, she was gone. All throughout the city, beautiful glowing orbs lifted into the air, filling the sky with prayers and mourning and wishes.
Reagan felt the want in him then, the desire to ask her to come back fully, and the way he couldn't bring himself to ask her for what he needed. So before he even spoke, she shifted her attention away fully from the
She manifested back into the cell fully, looking at him so softly as he leaned miserably against the wall where he had remained, unmoving, all day. He looked so wretched. So pale. So messy. So broken.
She wanted, desperately, to protect him from all the world.
Reagan moved towards him slowly, she knelt down before him and took his hands in hers. He laced his fingers through hers. Grateful.
"Thank you," he murmured simply, those words carrying so much more weight than he would ever let on.
Reagan nodded. And Loki's gaze remained on her, and while he was still so very pained, there was adoration in his eyes.
"I thought it was you," he told her.
She looked at him, her brow furrowed, unsure of what he meant.
"What do you mean?"
"That new shield of yours, it's so strong," he murmured. "I can hardly feel you when you raise it. It's an ugly feeling. And today when you raised it, you took to the fight without hesitation. And there was nothing I could do. I was just stuck down here... useless. Fearful. And when that guard came to me for just a moment I thought-- I didn't even consider it might be..."
"I'm sorry," she whispered, moving to sit back down beside him again, resting her head back down upon his shoulder.
Where she'd remained for most of the day.
Where she felt most right.
Beside her soulmate.
Loki just shook his head.
"I could hardly bare it - the idea of losing you... And so now, when you go back home-"
"I'm not going anywhere," Reagan assured him, her voice quiet yet resolute as she stopped him from even voicing the idea.
Loki tilted his head a little to look at her face, his brow slightly furrowed. She lifted her head from its resting place against his shoulder to meet his eye. She was calm. Steady.
"You asked me to stay so I'm going to stay," she murmured gently. "Even if you hadn't, there's no way I'd just leave you like this. I don't give a shit what Odin has to say has to say about it. I'm not leaving. He's just going to have to deal with it. It would take a whole army to get me to leave you right now... Alright?"
Loki offered her the whisper of a smile.
"You know, he just so happens to have one of those."
Reagan just lay her head back down upon his shoulder.
"Good," she said simply. "He'll need it."
Loki squeezed her hand just a little tighter in response.
Chapter 24: Chapter 24
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"What I'm about to ask of you is treason of the highest order. Success will bring us exile and failure shall mean our death."
Under the cover of night, in a secret location, with Heimdall ever-watchful for potential spies, Thor divulged his plans to his most trusted confidants.
Malekith could sense the Aether's presence. Odin's refusal to move Jane off-world meant another attack was inevitable. And so too then, was the decimation of their people. They had to act. And fast. With no access to the Bifrost or to the Tesseract, there was only one option. And it was a dangerous one at that.
Loki.
He had ways - secret ways - in and out of Asgard. In their youth he had found them and used them for his tricks, his ploys, sometimes even just to disappear for a while. It was only in recent years that his use of them had turned into something far more sinister.
But one thing that Thor knew to be true of his brother, no matter what else had changed, was that he loved Frigga. Truly and dearly. Thor had not seen him as of yet, but he knew that the news of her death would have all but broken him. He would be rageful. He'd crave vengeance. Perhaps even enough to be helpful.
The atmosphere in the room grew heavier as Thor made his companions privy to this aspect of the plan. Sif stared at him in utter disbelief and Fandral leaned back, defeated, in his chair.
"Thor, this is madness," Volstagg told his friend, solemnly. "He will betray you."
Fandral let out a long slow sigh in response.
"Not necessarily," he said it almost as if he hadn't wanted to. The blonde man glanced from Volstagg to the crown Prince. "Not if you take his mortal with you as well."
Thor's brow furrowed slightly at the suggestion.
"Reagan?"
"Fandral, don't be ridiculous," Sif hissed.
Fandral ignored her.
"The pair have grown close," Fandral told the group. "Something has... awakened between them. I thought it to be another one of Loki's games - I know you did too, Sif, but... she cares about him. Truly. They are closer than any of us realised."
Beside him, Sif scoffed.
"She fought beside you in Midgard," Fandral went on, speaking to Thor. "She saved my life when the elves attacked. And Loki's threats that he made to the soldier she was rumoured to have burned... I have played that moment over and over again in my mind and... I think they were genuine. I think she means something to him too and he wanted to keep her safe. If you take her with you, ask her to fight by your side once again, perhaps he will be less inclined to act against you."
Thor nodded, weighing the advice carefully.
"Yes," Sif said, coolly. "Or perhaps, you'll render yourself outnumbered."
Fandral turned to look at her.
"If what you say is true, Fandral, then why would she ever pledge fealty to Thor over Loki?"
"Perhaps she, like most, does not wish to see the universe plunged into darkness," Volstagg suggested.
"She's bonded to him," Sif reminded them all. "She is not like most."
Thor sat in quiet contemplation for quite a time before he spoke. And when it did, there was a finality to it.
"It would seem, it is a risk we will have to take."
The guards came for her the next morning.
When the knock sounded at her door, Reagan truly did hope it would be Odin that she'd find standing there once again. She positively leapt from her bed.
Round two, motherfucker, she thought viscously. Bring it on.
She'd tell him how fucked up it was that he sent a goddamn guard to tell Loki about Frigga's death.
She'd tell him she wasn't going anywhere. That she'd burn the city to the ground sooner than stepping foot on that Bifrost.
She swung her door open, still wearing her nightgown, to find herself face to face with six members of the Einherjar, all adorned in their full armour. She studied them calmly, readying herself. But suddenly her heart sank.
Her eyes locked with Skurge's. His expression was grim.
Betrayal flashed across her features plain as day as they stared at one another.
"Reagan Matthews," he said evenly. "You need to come with us."
She didn't answer - she couldn't. Instead, she just gazed at the man she'd thought had been her friend. Her one true ally in all of Asgard who wasn't Loki. She tried to keep her breathing steady, but her chest felt strangely shallow.
"In light of the recent attack, plans have changed. You will not be permitted to return to Midgard at this stage. The city is in total lockdown. It is the order of the King that the mortals be taken into protective custody."
Reagan watched him, her brow furrowing in confusion. But her heart began to race as hope sparked in her. She wasn't going to home then. Not yet.
Or... did Skurge understand her well enough to know that she needed to be fed that lie? That she would put up a fight otherwise. She watched him, at war as to what to do.
"We'll give you a few minutes to get dressed. Be quick."
Skurge moved towards her and took hold of the door to close it, and still, Reagan watched him, unmoving.
When he was close enough, for only her to hear, he murmured so softly that she almost missed it.
"Trust me."
It was all he said, and there was a desperation to it. As he swung the door shut, leaving her alone in her chambers a lump formed in her throat. From the fright. The relief. The confusion. She was so uncertain of what to do. What if she went with them and it was a trick? She'd have to fight her way out. She didn't want to hurt any of them. Least of all Skurge, even if this did turn out to be a betrayal. But she couldn't run either. She knew that. Heimdall would see her. They'd find her.
Reagan kept the interaction shielded from Loki, not wanting to worry him, he was still in so much pain. And she had made him a promise to-
Reagan stilled.
She'd made him a promise.
The very idea of it calmed her.
Resolutely, Reagan began to dress in her leathers. She'd made Loki a promise. She was going to stay with him. So it didn't matter what these soldiers had planned for her. She just needed to be able to burn.
If they took her to the rainbow bridge, she'd burn so brightly that none of them could lay a hand on her. And then she would retreat to Loki's castle. She could stay there, out of their reach, while she figured out her next move.
With fresh determination, Reagan strode towards the door and when she opened it, she was met with Skurge's sombre gaze once more. She didn't speak to him. When he wrapped a hand around her upper arm to escort her and she had half a mind to scorch his flesh. But then, as she scowled down at his hand on her, she noticed it. A small, folded scrap of parchment pinched subtly between his fingers. Reagan glanced cautiously at the other guards in her escort and when she was satisfied that they weren't paying attention, she slipped it from his grasp. Skurge gave her no reaction except for his grip on her easing just a little.
She read the writing scrawled there quickly.
I owe you a debt. There is a plan. We need you and the other mortal together. Burn this. ~ F
Reagan balled the parchment up in her fist and turned it to ash, her heart racing all the more.
The armed guard soon lead Reagan to a heavy set of golden doors which were pushed open to reveal chambers similar to her own, though far less lived in. More Einherjar were already stationed there, alert and at attention. So, she was to be babysat. Another woman waited there already too. Vague recognition passed over her features as she watched Reagan being escorted, somewhat forcefully, into the room.
"You're to remain here until otherwise instructed," Skurge told her when he let go of her arm at last. "A meal will be brought in for each of you soon."
His 'on duty' voice was so different to the way he normally spoke to her. Reagan turned to look at him. He seemed almost reluctant to meet her eye but when he did she could see the upspoken sentiment there. The way his gaze lingered longer than it needed to. The way his brows pinched together ever so slightly. The thin line of his lips. He wanted her forgiveness. She offered him all she could, a subtle nod. But it seemed to be enough, some of the tension in his posture eased just a little before he exited the room.
The moment the doors were closed, Reagan let out a shuddering breath and began to pace anxiously. She loathed the feeling of being left in the dark. And having to lay her trust in a scrawled note from Fandral of all people seemed insane. But Skurge... she trusted Skurge. She just hoped she was right to.
There is a plan.
A plan for what? And how could she possibly factor in?
She was so lost in thought, she hadn't even realised that the other woman was watching her.
"You're Reagan, right?" she said at last, filling the awkward silence. "I'm Jane. I recognise you from the footage in New York."
"Yeah, sorry... Sorry, I... This whole situation has been... a lot."
Jane laughed humorlessly.
"Yeah, you're telling me."
"Did they tell you how long we're going to be held here?"
"No," Jane said, hanging her head in defeat. "No, I- I don't know about you, but I suppose I'm just here until Malekith's next attack."
Reagan nodded, not quite sure of what to say. What could she say to that? There were no words that could bring someone comfort in a situation like this.
"How are you holding up?" she asked. "I mean if you want to talk about it."
Jane grimaced.
"I guess, I'm as good as can be expected. It's overwhelming. I'm having these weird visions and... Whatever this thing is, it keeps knocking me out. It's... It's like this uncontrollable blast of energy whenever anyone tries to touch me."
Reagan tilted her head a little.
"I actually know a little something about what that feels like."
"You do?"
"Not the visions, but uncontrollable energy. Yeah. It wasn't exactly pretty when I first got my powers. A lot of people got hurt."
Jane sighed heavily.
"I bet it wasn't as many as yesterday," she mused.
Reagan studied her and sympathy swelled in her chest. Even in a total stranger, she'd recognise that guilt anywhere. She was all too familiar with it.
"That wasn't on you," Reagan assured her gently.
"Wasn't it?" Jane half scoffed.
"No," Reagan insisted, taking a seat next to her. "There was no way for you to know. Just like there was no way for Thor to know what would happen if he brought you back here. Sometimes it's not anyone's fault. Sometimes things just... are..."
Jane nodded slowly, contemplating.
"I just want it gone," she murmured, staring down at her palms as if she could see the power coursing beneath her skin. "I want it out of me."
Another wave of sympathy swept through Reagan, she understood better than most exactly what the other woman was going through. Except for the power inside of her, it had never tried to consume her, she hadn't been hunted for it. It had been enough to break her, the flames she couldn't wield. She couldn't even imagine if that power had tried to burn her out as well.
"I remember that feeling too," Reagan admitted, her features full of genuine sympathy.
"How did you deal with it?"
Reagan laughed a little. "Not very well, I'll tell you that much. It actually wasn't until recently that someone gave me the advice I needed to fully get a handle on it."
"You mind sharing?"
Reagan lowered her head a little.
"Stop fighting it," she admitted, grimly. It sounded so impossibly simple when she put voice to it. "Sorry, I know that doesn't quite work in your situation."
Jane looked back down at her own hands once again.
Reagan stilled then as she sensed Loki's presence entering her mind for the first time that morning.
How curious, his voice sounded in her mind and her eyes fell closed for just a moment.
She hadn't realised just how anxious she had been to hear from him.
What is it?
It would appear that my brother has decided to pay me a visit at last.
It was a surprise to Reagan as well.
"I didn't realise you were in Asgard," Jane said, still seated beside her. "There have been rumours back on Earth about you going missing. Some people thought you were dead and that the Avengers were trying to cover it up for some reason."
"I've been here since New York. Thor had to bring me back. I, uh... It's kind of complicated," Reagan replied, half distracted by Loki.
Something's happening, she told him. Something's in motion.
What do you mean?
I'm not sure yet. I'll explain but do you need me to-
It's alright. I'm rather interested to hear whatever it is he has to say.
"Oh," Jane said, slightly affronted. "Are you and Thor--"
Reagan spun to face Jane, mortified.
"Oh! No, no. No, I almost wish it was something so simple, but no," she muttered under her breath, much more to herself than to Jane. She turned back to the other woman. "Thor talks about you all the time. Believe me. You have nothing to worry about on that front."
And Jane finally allowed herself a small smile.
The smack of Jane's hand rang out through the hallway they stood in and still the trickster laughed.
"That was for New York," she said, glowering at him.
"I like her," Loki grinned coolly.
"So do I."
It was as if the whole universe stood still.
Loki stopped breathing.
The moment he heard her voice - her real voice - he could feel the difference. And he wondered how, for all that time he had spent parted from her, having nothing more than a mere projection of her - how had he ever convinced himself that that was enough? He hadn't even looked at her yet, and every nerve ending in his body had come alive.
Loki turned in the direction of Reagan's voice. Her eyes met his. A spark ran through him. There was an amused smirk playing on her lips to match his own as she gazed up at him.
She moved closer to him slowly, unblinking.
A strange calm settled over him as he watched her draw closer.
And he suddenly felt... steady. Sure.
Matching energy hummed along the bond.
Energy that seemed to say;
It's you... it's you... it's you...
"Hi," Reagan breathed, as she reached him at last.
Loki's smile softened into something genuine.
"Hello there," he murmured in return.
So, you enjoyed that did you? he asked, amused.
Yeah, maybe a little.
She took a small, subtle step closer to him, still gazing up at him with bright eyes.
I thought I had your sympathy, he teased.
Reagan shrugged.
She doesn't know what I know. And don't you remember how badly I wanted to smack you when I first met you?
Oh yes, and what about now?
Well, I can't say there's no desire... Her smile grew all the wider.
Huh. So I was right, he mused casually, as if his heart wasn't about to burst out of his chest.
About what?
You're just as annoying in person.
Reagan couldn't suppress a small laugh and she nudged him affectionately with her shoulder.
I'm happy to see you, too.
Loki could feel their eyes on them - the others - watching their silent little exchange, but it hardly mattered. Nothing seemed to. Not the approaching soldiers. Not their impending escape from Asgard. Not even the Aether. Because she was here with him.
And it felt right.
Reagan dropped his gaze, at last, glancing down at his bound wrists. She smirked.
You know, this is exactly what you were wearing the last time I saw you in person, she teased and tugged playfully at the chains. And as that simple action had Loki's blood unexpectedly rushing to a location that was so wildly inappropriate for their current circumstances, he couldn't help but think that wearing those handcuffs wasn't such a terrible thing after all. He grinned all the wider, unable to take his eyes off her.
He was here. He was here.
The moment Sif had come for her and Jane, adrenaline had coursed through her. She'd watched the warrior take out the guards with ease, how she'd inclined her head for them to follow.
"Let's go," she'd said, and while Jane made her way eagerly towards the doorway, Reagan had hesitated.
"Where are we going?" she'd asked, arms folded across her chest.
Sif's expression had grown frosty, as it always did when she interacted with the mortal.
"Fandral said to inform you that he would be there, too," was all she said on the matter, turning on her heel to escort Jane, whether Reagan followed or not.
And though Sif's words had been coated in disdain, Reagan found herself smiling as she hurried after her.
And now he was really here. Loki was here. Right in front of her.
The energy that hummed between them was otherworldly. If she'd thought there had been electricity between them when she'd visited his cell - that night they'd danced together - it paled in comparison to this. Being near him.
And there was something more too, something she couldn't feel through her projection, but that pull was there. The want to draw closer to him.
She'd felt it, that first day, back in New York. She hadn't understood it for what it was. It had scared her. Made her feel ugly. If only she had known what she knew now. She would have welcomed it. Given herself over to it.
Just like she wanted to do now.
God, she wanted to reach for him, to touch him... even in the most innocent ways. She wanted to brush her fingers against his, just to know if his hands were warm or cold. She wanted to lay her palm on his chest and feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. She wanted to lace her fingers through his hair to learn if it was as sinfully soft as she imagined...
But, alas, they had matters to attend to - a city to escape, an enemy to thwart, a universe to save.
How unimportant those things felt for just a moment when they got to be there together, teasing one another fondly. So wonderfully familiar, and yet so very strangely, for the very first time.
It was a comfort - this calm, gentle moment between them in amongst the chaos and turmoil of the past few days - and Reagan was so grateful for it, because this cool, collected composure of his, Reagan knew it was by his own design.
And she could see right through it - the cunning smile he adorned for all the rest of them - even though it had turned into something more genuine when he turned and looked her way, she could feel the truth of it.
The raw pain that he was still deep inside of.
The loss.
The longing to undo it.
Frigga.
But there were other eyes here now, and she knew how badly he needed to hide his weaknesses from them. And so, instead of reaching for him, she wore a smile to match his and played along, pretending this was all just good fun.
Because she refused to let these people see him bleed.
The Einherjar were approaching. Alerted now, to Thor's plan, their orders were to stop the Prince and his companions by any means. They needed to make their move, and fast. After a quick exchange with Sif, Thor led Jane away, a guiding hand on her back.
With Loki by her side, Reagan moved to follow.
A flash of metal caught the light in the corner of her eye and, suddenly, Sif's blade is millimetres from Loki's throat.
Reagan froze, wide-eyed as she stared in shock, her entire chest clenching horribly as panic surged within her.
She hadn't expected it. Hadn't had time to summon her flames to protect him. And he wore those cuffs that concealed his magic and left him vulnerable.
And now there was a blade pressed to his throat.
Reagan's heart raced so fast that she could hear her own pulse thundering in her ears.
And yet Loki was so calm as Sif threatened him. The way he laughed at her threats and he bared his throat to the warrior, it was as if it were something he'd faced a million times before.
And only when Sif removed her blade and allowed Loki to pass did Reagan breathe a shaky sigh of relief. She moved towards him, unable to help herself, taking hold of his forearm. Her grip on him was firm and grounding, though there was a slight tremor in her touch, as if she were trying to reassure herself that he was really there.
Are you alright? she asked him, still shaken.
Loki could feel her panic, her outrage, and he looked at her to find her glaring daggers over his shoulder at the dark-haired woman who now stood between them and the forces of Asgard.
"I'm fine," he promised her gently. "It's alright."
They made their way after Thor and all the while, Loki could feel the way Reagan was trying so desperately to quell her dread. And while he loathed the fact that anything had filled her with such horrid emotion, there was still some small selfish part of him that warmed at the thought of her worrying for his wellbeing.
Her hands were on him. It was a thought that kept looping over and over again in Loki's mind. Her hands were on him, wrapped around his arm, somewhat protectively - possessively, he even dared to imagine - as she walked beside him.
He could feel the warmth of her body beside his - something he'd been pining after for months.
And yet, as they hurried through the palace on their way to commandeer an alien spacecraft, he had no time to savour her proximity.
Still, he indulged himself in a few intermittent glances in her direction, studying the curves of her profile, the flick of her lashes, the way her hair fell around her face.
As if sensing his gaze on her, she glanced up at him and caught his eye. Reagan smiled.
So, this isn't how I thought we'd be spending the day, she quipped.
No. Though, it is rather more exciting.
Oh, definitely. You might find this a little hard to believe, but I've never actually stolen a spaceship before.
Well, allow me to just say what an honour it is to join you in the flesh for your first time.
The pair exchanged grins before Reagan tilted her head a little, still studying his face.
It's actually kind of nice to see you in different lighting, you know, Reagan observed.
Loki quirked an amused eyebrow at her. Oh yes? And am I still just as devilishly handsome as I was in that charming little prison cell?
Maybe even more so.
A genuine grin tugged at Loki's face as he glanced her way once more, but Reagan's attention shifted as they reached the giant black craft which had smashed its way into the palace and now lay amongst the ruins. Volstagg was waiting for them there, weapon in hand. Thor clasped his hand before he and Jane made their way onto the ship. Reagan and Loki made to follow before a large hand collided forcefully with Loki's chest stopping him in his path.
Reagan scowled, resisting the urge to set the man aflame.
"If you even think about betraying him..."
"You'll kill me?" Loki finished for him. "Evidently, there will be a line."
Reagan could hardly fathom how he managed to remain so collected in moments like this. She reached for him once more, taking a gentle hold of his arm and pulling him away from Volstagg.
"Come on," she murmured to Loki. Her voice was soft, in no way pairing with the glowering expression she threw the other man's way.
I swear if one more of them assaults you... Her voice was laced with venom.
And though she didn't finish the thought, warmth spread through Loki's chest.
"No, don't hit it. Just press it gently."
It was surreal, escaping Asgard in an alien spaceship with Thor at the helm, a virtual render of their surroundings coming to life within the ship as they swept over - and occasionally directly through - Asgardian landmarks.
Their lives were at risk. Their freedom. The entire fucking universe. And yet... Reagan felt detached from it all. Because, strangely, the strangest thing of all, was how ...un-strange she found it that Loki was thoroughly enjoying himself in the face of their impending doom. Just watching him, how absolutely delighted he was to be irritating Thor, it did something to quell her fear of the oncoming attacks. It made her feel like everything was going to be alright. And each time Loki glanced her way, wearing that cocky smirk of his, she couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he was doing it for her benefit.
It was too easy, the way he managed to get a rise out of his brother. The way he baited him into bickering matches. And it occurred to Reagan that he'd probably played that very same trick on her too without her ever really realising.
She couldn't quite suppress her smirk at that. Loki caught it, meeting her eye momentarily and shooting her a quick wink.
I've missed this, his voice oozed satisfaction.
I can tell, she replied.
Look how annoyed he is, Loki said gleefully. Watch this, I'm going to make it worse.
And Reagan had no idea why it was that moment, she couldn't even pinpoint exactly what it was about it, but something in her... settled... as if it became permanent. The smile fell away from her face as she watched him, once again distracted by bickering with his brother, not at all concerned about the weapons attempting to gun them out of the air. She and Loki... they were permanent. Even as she'd allowed herself to let him in, admitted to herself begrudgingly - and before long, whole-heartedly - how much she liked him, how important he'd become to her, he always seemed like something fleeting. At first, because that's what she'd wanted him to be. But then... perhaps because he was to be locked away from her forever. Perhaps because she couldn't admit to herself what she really wanted.
But she and Loki... they were permanent.
The matching marks they each wore around their forearms. They never spoke of them. They spoke of the bond, how to get rid of it, poked fun at it, used it to speak to one another. They'd even learned to appreciate it, especially in the moments when they'd needed each other most. But never had they spoke about what it meant. About what they were to each other.
And now, she wanted to. Desperately.
She wanted to admit to him that the marks were right all along.
That she had been an idiot.
That she was sorry.
That she wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anything.
And just as she was reaching that terrifying realisation, Thor seemed to reach the end of his tether, and pushed Loki forcefully out of the ship, sending him plummeting towards the ocean below them.
"Loki!" his name ripped from her throat as she ran to the doorway, searching wildly for him.
Unfathomable relief swept through her as she watch him land aboard a Skiff beneath them. A familiar face gazed up from it. She locked eyes with Fandral and could do nothing but blink in surprise.
"Hold onto me," Thor's voice sounded beside her.
She glanced his way to find him with Jane cradled in his arms. Before she had time to talk herself out of it, she wrapped her arms around Thor's, clutching on for dear life and together, they leapt down into the Skiff below. The landing jarred her but Thor took the brunt of it, managing to keep her on her feet even as he held firmly onto Jane. As she watched Loki clamber to his feet, her heart still racing, as he inevitably collected himself and pretended to be unphased.
But he was alright, at least. And that was all that mattered.
Her eyes flicked fleetingly to Fandral's, who gave her a curt nod of acknowledgement. She returned it. And nothing more needed to be said.
It wasn't long before gunships began to trail them. Only one at first, which Fandral took care of.
But then another followed. And another.
And soon another three.
"They've spotted us," Thor called over the roar of the wind stripping past them. "We need a distraction."
"I'm on it!" Reagan shouted back.
She moved to the rear of the Skiff, putting as much space between her and the others as she could before she grounded her footing, extended her arms and, with a deep breath, she summoned her flames.
A wall of fire blasted out over the water, shooting out into the distance before it erupted into a brilliant display of fiery heat. Flames exploded across the water, rocketing skyward, forming a stifling display, taller even than the Statue of Liberty, the pursuing crafts had no choice but to alternate their courses, leaving the Skiff ferrying two princes and their mortals to escape Asgard undetected.
Reagan called her fire back, just as Loki had taught her to do. She took a moment to catch her breath then turned to face the others, only to find all eyes on her.
Thor, who wore a slightly startled expression, having not seen her achieve anything even close to that scale during the battle of New York.
Jane, who even in her exhausted state, looked slightly awestruck by the display.
And Loki, who just smiled at her softly, proudly, as if he'd never expected anything less from her.
It was his gaze which made her blush.
Well done, mortal.
This place is... awful.
Reagan stood aboard the Skiff that Loki now steered through Svartálfheim, staring out at the horizon, arms wrapped around herself as a form of self-comfort as they journeyed through the wasteland. There was a bitterness to the air as if it were tainted by some kind of poison. What little light the black hole above them gave off muted all the colours around them.
Malekith really wants to make the universe... this?
He's served a single purpose for so long that his mind is likely warped as to his true intention, Loki responded.
When Reagan turned, his gaze was already on her and it left her feeling a little breathless. He was sat by the steering axle, manoeuvring the skiff. But those green eyes of his... they were unforgivably intense. As she moved towards him again, he trailed her every movement. And if she hadn't known better, she might have felt like prey. They'd been travelling through Svartálfheim for hours now. Thor had filled them in on the entire plan - to face Malekith, to extract the Aether from Jane safely and to destroy it - and now, the rest was just a waiting game, circling that desolate planet with nothing but time to combat until they caught sight of their enemies reaching the Dark World.
Odin used to tell us the story of the Dark Elves and their desire to claim the Aether. Of what the universe used to be before it was forged. How someday if the Elves succeeded we'd be plunged back into the darkness that came before.
She threw him an incredulous look.
Wow. I bet that lulled you right off to sleep. I swear, your dad is insane.
Loki just smiled up at her affectionately, the smallest of laughs permitted to slip from his lips.
Actually, in all fairness, Reagan self-corrected. My mom used to sing this song to me when I was little about a baby plummeting out of a tree to get me to go to sleep.
I beg your pardon.
Yeah.
You're a liar.
Rockabye baby--
How many times must I ask you not to sing to me?
Reagan smirked a little, as she turned back to survey the wasteland once more.
But then she felt it.
She whipped back around to study Loki.
He didn't meet her eye, knowing.
But she'd already felt it. A pang of discomfort - of pain - her eyes fell to his wrists. She moved towards him slowly, kneeling in front of him. Loki tensed slightly, watching her with a guarded expression as she reached for his wrists, pulling back his sleeves to reveal angry-looking bruises upon his skin. His wrists were decorated in a mottled pattern of red and purple markings. They looked angry. And fresh. And painful. Reagan felt the way he stiffened slightly, fighting the instinct to hide from her - hide his weakness.
Jesus, Loki... What the hell happened? she asked softly.
I believe it was the fall into the Skiff, Loki said, sounding dismissive. I wasn't ready for it. I just landed badly, that's all.
Reagan's brows pinched together in concern as she ran her fingers soothingly over the bruises blooming under the cuffs and Loki was sure he could feel her fire in her touch.
It's nothing, he reassured her.
Reagan shot him a sharp look.
It's not nothing, she said, as she returned her attention to his wrists.
Loki softened as he gazed at her.
It's nothing I can't handle, he corrected gently, wanting sorely to ease her concern. He shifted his hand to graze his fingers comfortingly along her palm. I heal quickly, it'll be alright.
"What's going on between those two?" Jane murmured as Thor came to cover her with a blanket, only loud enough for him to hear. "Didn't she help you all stop him in New York? She was on your side, right? The things he did - I thought she would have hated him. But they're... I don't know..."
She sounded weary. She needed her rest. But ever inquisitive was Jane Foster, and Thor knew well enough that he needed to placate her curiosity if he ever hoped to get her to sleep. He let loose a sigh.
"Things are more complicated than they would seem," he told her gently.
Jane's brow furrowed in question and so softly, not to be overheard, Thor told her of the Marks of Sjelevii, of what they meant and the psychic link that came with them, how long it had been since the bond have been forged. He told her of the Atraxis and how important it was that Reagan be hidden away in Asgard.
And lastly, he told her of just how tumultuous the relationship had been between his brother and the mortal. How they had battled one another. How they longed to be the other's undoing. How they had tormented one another to their very breaking points.
"They loathed each other at first," Thor murmured. "I hadn't realised-"
"Whatever that is," Jane gestured in their direction. "It is not loathing."
"Are these cuffs really still necessary?" Reagan stood and placed her hands on her hips, raising her voice so that Thor would hear. "They're bruising him. And it's not like we're even in Asgard anymore."
"They will remain on for now," Thor said firmly.
"But-"
"What's wrong, brother?" Loki asked casually, his face a mask of snide arrogance. "Worried you might find yourself transformed into a frog again?"
"You know full well what I'm worried about," Thor responded without a trace of humour in his voice, before turning his back to him.
Reagan huffed in defeat, taking a seat at Loki's side. She slumped back, crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly.
Maybe I can swipe the keys while he's distracted.
Loki smirked at that. My, my... don't tell me I've corrupted you after all.
Reagan shrugged a little.
Not that I wouldn't love to watch you attempt it, but it's not a good idea. I'd much rather he was still an ally to you when Malekith arrives.
And though she nodded, she still looked thoroughly displeased.
Reagan, really, don't trouble yourself. It's not like I've given any of you any reason to trust me, Loki said, half in jest.
I do trust you, Reagan told him firmly, turning to look him right in the eye.
Loki stilled, studying her.
I trust you, she told him again, entirely resolute, as if she were completely putting the matter to bed.
Loki offered her the ghost of a smile, far more emotion behind it than he let on, before the two fell into a comfortable silence, side by side. It was some time before Reagan spoke again.
So... what happens after this? she asked softly. Assuming it's not the end of the universe, of course.
I suppose I haven't given it much thought.
Reagan nudged her shoulder playfully against his.
You're about to be a free man. You can go wherever you want. Do whatever you want.
Something shifted in Loki then, Reagan caught it, though she wasn't quite sure what it was.
Yes, Loki agreed. Though, I don't suppose I'll be able to return to Asgard. All that would await me there are Odin's shackles.
What about Earth?
Loki hesitated. I doubt I'd be welcomed there.
I'd vouch for you, she insisted. That could help. I happen to have some pull with the Avengers.
They smiled softly at each other.
But what are our other options? Where else could we go? Reagan asked.
Loki stilled.
We? he repeated softly.
Reagan turned to him again, her gaze softening as she nodded.
Yeah, we, she confirmed. Don't you remember? I promised I was going to stay with you.
Loki cleared his throat a little, trying to compose himself.
Well, there's Vanaheim, I suppose. Peace has been reestablished and it's safe to say that I've made considerably fewer enemies there.
Hogun told me it was beautiful.
I must confess, it does have some rather impressive views.
Or maybe we could just go to Jotenheim? Reagan suggested.
Loki hesitated, recognising her teasing tone. He had to swallow against the sudden tightness that formed in his throat as a realisation hit him. She was playing with him. Playing make-believe. Just as they had just a few nights earlier, pretending that they would be able to speak once more in 50 years' time. This was all just a fantasy. There wasn't really an 'after.' There wasn't really a 'we.'
Loki lowered his head a little.
Maybe not? Reagan pressed gently, misinterpreting Loki's sudden shift in mood.
Maybe not, Loki agreed, grateful that she didn't press the matter.
Okay, so Vanaheim, then, Reagan said quite determinedly, turning her attention back to the horizon of the wastelands.
Loki studied her profile.
It seemed so impossible that only a year ago they had not known each other. That he'd been without her voice constantly nattering away inside his mind. And it occurred to him then that he couldn't quite pinpoint any particular moment when he had come to adore that presence so. When it had become a part of who he was - of who he wanted to be.
He'd been bitter when the marks had first been forged because she had seemed like this thing that he would once again be denied. Something that he was entitled to - something meant for him. A being that was made to care for him - to love him - in spite of all that he'd done and all that he was. And yet all he had felt from her was her disdain - her revulsion at the very concept. He'd been bitter - resentful - that she wouldn't even entertain the idea of him. It had filled him with such a poisonous rage.
It shamed him now to think of how... entitled he'd felt to her.
Because back then, that mark - the Mark of Sjelevii - had meant that she was supposed to be his.
His to covet.
His to command.
To dominate.
Something selfish.
Loki had never imagined for even a moment that it would be he who would so irrevocably belong to her. That the very idea of making her smile held more value to him than anything else in the world. And yet here he was. Gazing at a mortal who found it all too easy to make him laugh, to make him come alive again. Her existence was to be so unbearably fleeting. And yet Loki cared - truly cared - more about her life than his own.
And she sat there, beside him, smiling and promising to stay by his side. But she hadn't any concept of what that meant. Of just how long it would mean that she'd have to run.
From the Atraxis.
From Odin.
From Thanos.
No... that was not a fate he'd ever ask her to endure.
Because, against all odds, she'd come to matter to him more than even he did.
"You should get some rest," he said to her, still only loud enough for her to hear.
"I'm fine," she insisted.
"It's all a waiting game now, it may be hours before we see any sign of the creatures. And you've hardly slept the past few nights."
Reagan glanced away, knowing he was right.
"I don't know if it's such a great idea to leave you and your brother unsupervised," she teased with a small smile.
"It would be a comfort to me," Loki murmured.
She squinted at him just a little.
"And you'll be on your best behaviour?"
"When am I not?"
Reagan laughed before faking a solemn expression, as she leaned forward, businesslike.
"Now, would you prefer the following list of examples in chronological order or by scale of repercussions?" she asked.
And Loki looked at her then like he was looking at a sunset.
It hadn't worked. They'd pulled their plan off to perfection, and still, it hadn't worked.
Loki had appeared to betray Thor, handing Jane over to Malekith in exchange for a front-row seat to Asgard's destruction. The elves had seemed distracted. And when Loki had lifted his magic, granting Thor back his limb and freeing Reagan from his concealment spell, the two had rushed forward, casting the full brunt of both lightening and flame at the Aether to shatter it into oblivion.
It had exploded into thousands of pieces, scattering over the wasteland, and Reagan had smiled, certain that they had done it - stopped the end.
But then, they'd watched in horror, as the element had reforged itself before their very eyes.
And it had gone to Malekith, bonded itself to him like a beast returning to its master.
So they had no choice but to fight.
While the brothers leapt forth and fought off the foot soldiers, Reagan had cast her strength towards the Dark Elves' craft. She assaulted it with her flames, giving it everything she had in her, hoping that if she couldn't destroy the Aether, then at least she could prevent it from leaving Svartálfheim.
She threw everything into it. And yet her attack had no effect. She didn't even leave a mark on the vessel. And Malekith had merely flicked his wrist in her direction, and the power of the Aether had sent her hurtling through the air. Reagan screamed. She'd smashed into the ground, her head colliding with something hard. Pain seared through her skull and a fog washed over her mind instantly.
She was vaguely aware of Loki screaming her name.
Her vision blurred then, darkness ebbing around the edges.
She couldn't be sure if unconsciousness took her or not, but her head felt heavy, her thinking fogged, as she finally managed to pull herself up a little.
It happened as she was just managing to stagger to her feet, still trying to clear her head.
She gave a sharp gasp.
It was like the snapping of a tendon - no pain at first, just the knowledge that something wrong had happened. Something very, very wrong.
It took Reagan a few moments to fully understand what it was. And then she felt it... the absence. It wasn't like when Odin had reinforced her shields. No, that had felt like Loki had been hidden from her. Concealed by magic. This... he was-- he was gone.
The bond was gone.
She'd stilled, squeezed her eyes shut, denied it.
She shook her head, confused.
"No," she whispered aloud, scanning her surroundings. Searching for him.
She just needed to see him. She needed to look him in the eye. And then everything would be okay.
Because it couldn't be that.
It couldn't be that.
Anything else.
Anything.
Just not him...
Reagan turned. She froze. Thor knelt in the distance, the form of a body clad in green cradled in his arms. Her feet seemed to carry her forward of their own accord.
Not him, she begged silently as she approached. Please... please, not him.
It couldn't be him. It wouldn't be.
Her mind rejected the very possibility of the concept.
He was already gone by the time she reached him and all the air rushed from her lungs with alarming force. He was so still. Impossibly so. His skin had turned a mottled kind of grey. She waited for him to breathe - she just kept waiting to see his chest rise. But it didn't come. It never would.
Reagan reached for him with trembling hands as she fell to her knees beside him. One hand settled on his shoulder, the other over his wound as if to hide it away so that death couldn't take him from her.
But it was already too late.
Too late.
He was gone.
Come back, she whispered into the emptiness where he had been bonded to her only moments earlier. Please... please, come back...
Thor watched her wordlessly as she stared down at his brother's lifeless form, tears still tracking their way down his face. He could barely stomach the expression on her face - the shock, the confusion, the pain. The way she touched him as though he might shatter beneath her fingertips.
"We can't leave him here," Reagan whispered.
"Reagan," Thor said gently, his voice still thick with emotion. "We have no choice. We have to move."
"No, we can't just leave him here. We have to take him home."
"Reagan."
"Thor," she looked up at him, looked him right in the eye. That one look told him everything he'd ever need to know. "Please, don't ask me to just leave him here like this."
Thor softened, he placed his hand gently on her shoulder, willing her to listen and remember the gravity of their situation.
"The last act of service I can do to honour my brother... is to make sure that you are safe," he told her firmly.
Reagan's expression crumbled a little as she looked from Thor to Loki and then back again. She tucked his raven-black hair gently behind his ear.
"Please... help me give that to him," Thor murmured, his own gaze returning to his brother's face.
A tear spilled down her cheek as she nodded at last.
In the hours that followed, Reagan was numb.
She was numb as she trudged through the storming wastelands. Barely feeling the sting of the sand blasting against her skin.
She was numb when they found the cave. Found the things from Midgard. Hardly caring when Jane's cell phone started ringing.
She was numb when she found herself back in Midgard. A home that she'd longed for for so long, and now was the last place she wanted to be. Because all she wanted was to be with him.
But he was gone.
He was gone.
It was like she was operating on autopilot. There was still work to be done. Malekith needed to be stopped. Loki's death needed to have been for something. Reagan was vaguely aware that that thought might have been all that kept her going. She'd make it mean something. She'd made him proud.
But she wouldn't feel it.
She'd never again feel his pride in her, spiralling down a sacred bond that she had wasted so much of her time willing away. The thought of it was unbearable.
On autopilot, she climbed into the back seat of Jane's car.
On autopilot, she followed her and Thor back to her apartment.
There were others there. Faces she didn't know. And one she did. Selvig. The scientist Loki had possessed when he had stolen the Tesseract.
"Your brother's not coming is he?" the man asked Thor, somewhat nervously.
The very question made Reagan's heart clench terribly.
"Loki is dead..." Thor replied.
"Oh, thank God."
Reagan closed her eyes.
It was too much. She couldn't stand it. She could hardly breathe.
"Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom," she managed to squeeze out, exiting the room swiftly and hurrying away from this group of strangers.
"Reagan-"
She ignored Thor's call, retreating as quickly as she could.
She slammed the door shut to block out the noise of their whispers and questions.
Alone in a bathroom on her home planet, a million lightyears away from the one thing she truly needed, Reagan slid down the door, pulling her knees to her chest and finally allowed the dam inside her to break. A sob burst from her, and then another and then another, and she thought only of the body she'd left behind on a dead planet under the light of a black hole. Alone on a deserted planet. Alone, when she promised him she wouldn't leave him.
Her soulmate.
Loki.
He was gone.
Reagan wanted blood.
She knew it wouldn't help. It wouldn't bring him back.
But, frankly, she didn't care.
Those godforsaken elves.
Malekith.
She wanted them dead.
She wanted to watch them burn.
Reagan was a force to be reckoned with. Unstoppable.
She'd only half listened to the plan that Jane and Selvig put together - it hadn't really mattered. She wasn't part of the tactical side of it. She was the girl made of fire. She was there to burn.
And burn she would.
The creatures began to approach her more guardedly, in larger numbers. Word had spread through their ranks about the way she was scorching through their forces.
Reagan didn't back down. Didn't cower.
She summoned her flames and fed them to anyone who dared to raise a weapon to her.
She was fighting recklessly - she knew she was - but she was too angry and too heartbroken to care. What these things had taken from her, what they threatened to do still... she didn't care if it killed her. She'd take every last one of them with her.
And as she ripped her way through the elves who attacked her, it didn't quite register with her that the gravitational anomalies behaved nothing like she had expected - the way fallen debris which ought to have hit her was sent hurtling away, how impending attacks which she had not seen coming were strangely intercepted by these peculiar shifts in reality. In any other scenario she may have noticed it - questioned it.
But right now she was blind to it in her pain.
She moved on, attacking relentlessly.
The only time Reagan ever stilled, was when she surged forward, ready to take on a fresh set of elven victims when reality itself had shifted around her, morphing the blue clouded skies of Earth above into something sepia.
For just a moment, Reagan thought she was hallucinating. But quickly she realised that she was standing alone on an endless plane of dead earth under a sky of muted colours and the light of a black hole. Her stomach lurched violently. She was back in the Dark World. She'd fallen through a pocket in the universe, and of all the places she could find herself... she was here.
It was cruel. Too cruel.
She scanned the landscape surrounding her and a broken sob escaped her lips.
It was the Skiff - it was their Skiff - the one they'd left behind on Svartálfheim which meant that... Loki, he was close. His lifeless body was somewhere nearby, as if the universe was taunting her. Fresh tears stung Reagan's eyes then as she stood there, frozen. Caught between what she wanted to do and what she had to do. It was so impossibly cruel, to have to leave him there again.
Anger surged through her like nothing she'd ever felt.
She snarled as she turned her back on the Dark World, her whole body igniting into startlingly brilliant flames, and as she stepped out of the portal, back onto Earth, surrounded by those creatures, she let loose an inferno the likes of which she'd never dared to before.
Their screams lasted milliseconds before they were entirely incinerated, devoured by her flames. Reduced to nothing but bone and ash.
When she called her flames back at last, Reagan fell to her knees, gasping for breath. Everything hurt. She was so exhausted. So broken.
She wanted to cry. She wanted to rest.
She wanted Loki.
With a steadying breath and a strangled grunt of pain, she pulled herself to her feet once more and went to find Thor.
Reagan stood, helplessly by Jane's side as Thor journeyed into the Aether's storm to face Malekith alone. Its energy was far too powerful for any mortal to survive. And so they had no choice but to wait for him with bated breath. Hoping against hope that the God of Thunder could put a stop to the end of the universe - that this one last attempt could be enough.
And it felt like a miracle when the Aether dissipated - Selvig's rods casting Malekith hurtling to the other side of the galaxy.
And it felt like a miracle, when Malekith's ship began to crash, plummeting directly where Thor lay unconscious, but instead fell through another strange pocket of impossibility, sparing both Thor's life and Jane's.
And so, with no time to think about it, Reagan turned on her heel and sprinted and prayed for one last miracle.
She had seconds.
She could already feel the atmosphere changing - the effects of the Convergence coming to an end - the pockets in space all around them closing. She ran faster than she'd ever run before. Her muscles felt like they were on fire, her lungs burned for oxygen, the pain in her head seared, and still, she ran. She ran until she reached where she knew it to be, the pocket that would lead her to the only place she wanted to go.
Reagan threw herself with all her might - launched her entire body. She flew through the air and landed in the dirt with a thud that forced all the air from her lungs. She curled into herself, pained, as she gasped for breath.
Winded and bruised and exhausted, Reagan struggled to prop herself up on one elbow to take in her surroundings. It took only a moment to confirm where she was.
She breathed a sigh of relief as she fell back against the dead, dusty planes of Svartálfheim.
Reagan trudged through the wasteland for what felt like an eternity. The wind howled all around her and brought with it the constant sting of sand and debris in an endless assault on her exposed skin. She ignored it.
She was so unbearably tired. After everything that had happened over the past few days, she was all but empty. Physically. Emotionally. All that seemed to be left in her was sorrow. And a deep, deep desire to lay down and rest.
But the Skiff was on the horizon in front of her, and so she kept going, climbing to the crest of the hill and then over it, where her eyes, at last, fell upon his unmoving form.
When she reached him at last, she slowed, as if she were almost afraid to draw any closer. Reagan stared down at him for a long time as a lump formed in her throat and tears began to blur her vision.
And then, slowly, she went to him settling down on her knees at his side, avoiding looking at the wound that had proved deadly, focusing instead on his face. He was paler now, but she allowed herself to believe he looked peaceful. The storm had caused sand to build up all along the right side of his body. She knelt there beside him, her eyes trained on his face and she took his hand in hers. There was no warmth there, and that alone caused her to whimper softly.
And a tear slipped down her face.
"I'm sorry we left you here," she whispered, bringing his hand to her lips to press a kiss to his knuckles. "We had no choice... But I'm here now, okay? I'm going to take you home."
She reached out her free hand and swept his hair away from his face, she lingered there, gently touching his cheek.
"I wish I'd told you that I..." Her heart ached in her chest, too much for her to be able to say the words out loud. "I should have just told you..."
She left the words unspoken. They wouldn't do any good now. She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his brow. She stayed there, close to him and allowed a few quiet sobs to tremble through her body.
"You came back."
It came from behind her.
She froze - a short, sharp gasp escaping her against her will.
That voice that she would recognise anywhere. That voice she thought she'd never get to hear again.
Slowly, Reagan straightened back up, afraid to look over her shoulder, afraid she was imagining things. But when she turned and her eyes met his, he looked almost as shocked as she did. Loki stood behind her, slightly breathless, watching her cry over his corpse with raw emotion on his face.
"I didn't think you'd come back."
Notes:
My God, that turned into a long chapter! It just didn't feel right to break it up, nowhere felt like "the place" to stop, so I hope you didn't mind the extra long read.
I promise you won't have to wait long for the next chapter. I've almost finished it :) I hope you enjoyed this one!
Chapter Text
Painful silence stretched between them as they stared at one another, each at a total loss for what to say.
Reagan tried, she opened her mouth but nothing came out. She managed to tear her eyes away from the Loki now standing before her to look back at the form who lay dead by her side. She was still holding his hand.
Reagan shook her head in confusion as she stared down at the lifeless body beside her, hardly able to comprehend what was happening in that moment. And then, with a brilliant flash of green light, the Loki she knelt beside faded away before her very eyes.
The shock sent the air rushing from her lungs and she leapt to her feet, staggering back slightly, as her eyes remained fixed upon the patch if spoilt soil where he'd just been laying.
He'd faked it.
She could hardly stomach the thought.
Her face was still wet with tears she'd shed mourning him. And he'd watched it. He'd watched her cry for him while he played out some sick fucking joke.
She'd trusted him.
She'd told him that.
And he betrayed her.
Slowly, her gaze shifted back to him, her features etched with anguish.
Loki stared back at her, unblinking, utterly helpless. He hadn't any idea what to say to her - what to do - to fix it. He wasn't even sure it could be fixed. He just needed to make her understand. If he could just make her see then maybe there'd be hope.
In a desperate attempt to reach her, Loki lifted the magic he'd cast to conceal the bond between them. The tether came rushing back - overwhelming, disorienting - anchoring them once again to one another, and he was plunged headfirst into the cataclysmic storm raging within her.
Loss.
Sorrow.
Disbelief.
Indignity.
Confusion.
Betrayal.
It was a mistake - a monumental one.
Because right now, after what he'd done, he wasn't welcome in her mind. He should have realised that. He wasn't going to be a comfort to her. Not now. And so his presence there, him bearing firsthand witness to the storm of emotions coursing through her, meant that they were now joined by a growing ember of unfiltered fury.
A sob escaped her lips the moment she felt the invasion and she slammed her shields down with such alarming force that Loki actually recoiled.
He tried to take a tentative step towards her but she staggered backwards, refusing to allow him to close the distance between them by so much as an inch.
"I'm sorry," Loki spoke at last with such gentle desperation. "Reagan, I'm so sorry."
"How could you do that to me?" she whispered, her voice was so raw - so pained.
"I never imagined... I didn't think you would care."
"You didn't think I would care?" Reagan repeated in utter disbelief.
"Not like this."
A beat of silence passed between them.
"Are you insane?!"
Loki couldn't help but smirk just a little at that.
"There's actually some pretty strong supporting evidence out there to suggest that may just be the case."
Reagan glared at him.
Loki loosed a breath, he tried moving towards her again cautiously. She took an equal step away from him and he froze. He breathed her name, pleadingly, but she didn't even waiver. Rather, she seemed to be growing all the more defiant as fresh tears sprung to her eyes.
"So, was it all just fake then?" Reagan asked, trying to remain calm, though her voice quivered with emotion. "All of it. All this time we've spent-- Everything that I thought was happening between us, was it all just bullshit?"
"No," Loki insisted, adamantly, utterly horrified that he could have ever made her think such a thing.
"Was I just something for you to toy with while you were bored in lock up? Just something to pass the time with?"
"Of course, you weren't," he said, his voice raw. "You know that's not what you were to me - what you are to me... Reagan, you- you must know how much you've come to mean to me."
Reagan scoffed, it was a vicious noise.
"You're so full of shit," she said, glowering at him through unshed tears. "You're really going to stand there and act like you care about me after what you did?"
Loki didn't respond. He just gazed at her, deflating a little as her rage only grew.
"You let me watch you die, Loki. You let me think that you were gone forever... You left me to fight those things without you."
"I didn't leave you," Loki whispered.
"You did."
"No, Reagan, I didn't," he insisted firmly - a little too firmly. He willed himself to remain calm. He just couldn't stomach the idea that she thought he could do that. "I didn't... I didn't leave. I concealed myself. Reagan, I stayed by your side every step of the way, I swear it. I never could have just left you to face that danger alone. I was always going to keep you safe but I needed..."
Loki ran a hand over his face in frustration, feeling slightly defeated. He didn't know how to do this. He didn't know how to be open. Even now, alone with her. And it mattered now more than it ever had.
He sorely wished he could just show her; to open the bond and let her see the way he'd regretted it the instant he'd seen her face fall. The way he willed time to unravel itself so he take it back - go back to a moment when he'd never made her cry like that. He wanted to show her that he walked beside her then, every step she took - through Svartálfheim and on Midgard - and all the while, trying to figure out how to fix it. How he wanted to hold her when she cried for him, but knowing all too well that she would push him away, that he deserved her rage. He wanted her to see that not for one second had she faced the creatures from the Dark World alone. She'd been so impossibly angry as she fought them, she'd been reckless, and so Loki had cast protection after protection to keep her safe - from falling debris, from attackers who snuck up on her blind spots. He wanted her to truly understand that he would never have risked her safety. And he loathed himself in the knowledge that his actions had caused her to act so carelessly - if he'd even thought for a second that she might react that way he never would have-
He sensed her there then, prodded tentatively at his train of thought. Loki lifted his head to meet her eyes again, hopeful. And he opened - allowed her in fully to explore those memories and emotions that churned within him. She didn't do the same, her mind remained off-limits to him, but he didn't care. Not so long as she might understand.
She was silent for a long time as she turned the events over, pairing them with her own experiences, and not once did her gaze leave him. He waited. He'd wait for an eternity if that's what she needed.
"You didn't leave," she said at last, her voice a little distant, as if she were still inside the memories.
Loki shook his head slowly.
"I would never have just left you to face that alone."
Reagan's expression crumbled just a little, her lip giving the smallest quiver before she managed to compose herself.
"I don't understand why you did it," she admitted in a whisper.
"It was a mistake," Loki told her, desperately. "I made a mistake. I... I panicked."
"About what?"
"About you," he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Reagan, I had to get away from you."
The sound of her shocked gasp was the worst noise Loki had ever heard. It was like glass shattering. It was pain. Vinegar in an already open wound.
"No," he said quickly. "Reagan, please just- I didn't mean it like that, I--"
His shoulders slumped slightly.
He was making it worse.
He just kept making it worse.
Normally, words were his weapon. He could twist them, use them, make anyone and anything bend and be what he willed it. So why now, did they fail him so? Why couldn't he make her see-
Loki stilled, realising. He closed his eyes. Took in a steadying breath. He couldn't make her see, because this wasn't about making her do anything. This was about giving. She needed him to give to her. He needed to give her the truth. He needed to give her his vulnerability. He needed to... open. And in doing so, he just had to hope that he was giving her what she needed from him. He had to hope that could be enough.
Loki looked up at his mortal, meeting her eye once more.
"Reagan, I had to get away from you, because I didn't want to be away from you," Loki told her, his voice felt raw as it made its way up his throat, but still he persisted. "My thoughts are consumed by you... day and night. Any time you leave, it takes everything in me not to beg you to stay."
As she watched him, wordlessly, Reagan's chest began to rise and fall just a little faster.
"I want to hear every thought you've ever had," Loki went on, a smile ghosting over his features at the idea of it. "I want to give you the universe, piece by piece, because I want to hear that sound you make when something delights you over and over again. I want to make you laugh. To make you happy. I want to touch you. By the stars, Reagan, I want to touch you. You - not just an illusion of you. I want to be with you, always, and that is why I had to get away from you. Because I am terrified of you... This hold you have over me, it's effortless. It's like nothing I've ever experienced. And the worst if it is that I welcome it... and because of that, I ran."
A tear slipped down Reagan's face, and he hazarded a step towards her.
This time she didn't move away.
"What you said to me, about being free, doing anything I wanted, it terrified me to my very core because it made me realise that if given the option - if it was the only way that I could have you... I'd choose to go back to spending my days alone with you in that infernal prison cell. And paired with that came the reality that it was over. That I don't get to have that anymore. That I don't get to have you anymore."
Loki's fingertips brushed tentatively against hers... And she laced her fingers slowly through his. It was slow and hesitant, as if she wanted to resist but couldn't quite bring herself to do it.
"But I told you that I wasn't going to leave you," the words were barely more than a whisper, still watery with emotion.
"I know you did," Loki said gently, dropping her gaze. His eyes fell to her fingers entwined with his. "But that just made it all the worse..."
"Why?"
"Because you didn't mean it the way I wanted you to mean it."
"How did you want me to mean it?"
"Forever," Loki answered earnestly, his eyes flicking to hers once more. "You made that promise when I was to be locked in a cage for all eternity and you were free to live your own life, coming and going as you pleased. You didn't know that Thor would free me. So your having said that meant that I would have to endure you unsaying it and I couldn't stand the idea of having that conversation with you - watching you attempt to break me gently. I couldn't bear to hear you say goodbye. This way I wouldn't have to watch you make that choice... That is why did what I did."
"Why are you so sure that's what was going to happen?"
Loki opened his mouth to speak, but once again, he fell short. He hung his head, tension coiling into his shoulders as if he'd suddenly been wounded. Gently, almost subconsciously, her fingers squeezed his as if, even now in her anger, she couldn't help but comfort him in some way.
Reagan studied him, her brows pinched together slightly, her eyes wide as she tried to figure it out. She looked at him like she was trying to read him - searching every last line on his face as if searching for clues about how his mind actually worked.
She'd thought she knew him so well. She was so sure she understood him... She did understand him.
He was Loki.
Loki, who hid how gentle his heart really was behind a cold demeanour and snide remarks.
Loki, who pretended that he was superior to everyone and anyone, but really, thought that he was so much less than he really was.
Loki, who couldn't bare for anyone to see real emotion in him because to him it was a weakness.
Loki, who readied himself for rejection from the people who cared about him and couldn't quite believe when that wasn't what he was met with.
Loki... who desired a Throne so that he could be adored from afar because he believed that anyone who got too close would see that there wasn't really anything there worth caring about.
Reagan's heart clenched suddenly. He didn't think she would stay, because didn't think she would choose him. He didn't think she would stay with him because he didn't believe that anyone would. Not even his own soulmate. Not even when he knew that she--
"Oh..." she breathed as something slowly became clearer to her.
Slowly, she reached for him, took a gentle hold of his lapel as she gazed up at his face. Loki glanced down at her hand, surprised, before he looked at her face again and watched as comprehension dawned upon her features as she drank him in.
"You really don't know, do you?" she asked, gently.
"Know what?" his brow furrowed.
"How can you not know?" she said, shaking her head as she stared at him. "I thought it was so obvious... How can you be inside my head and not feel it?"
Loki hesitated, looking confused momentarily.
"If you're referring to your - quite frankly - awe-inspiring anger then rest assured I-"
"Loki, I love you."
He froze.
"I'm in love with you," she insisted, her voice painfully gentle. "I know I told you that I didn't want the bond. I know you saw how badly I used to want to go home. But that... that was before. Before I knew you. And the more I got to know you, the more I realised that you're everything I could ever want. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you this sooner. I think I distracted myself trying to shield it from you so I could figure it all out, when I should have been doing the opposite. And I didn't realise that you didn't--"
Reagan was rambling, she knew she was, but she couldn't quite stop. His gaze on her was so intense, it always was, and she couldn't believe she hadn't just seen it plainly for exactly what it was. She sighed gently and met his eye once more.
"I should never have fought the marks," she told him. "I shouldn't have resisted. Because they're right... Everyone told me they were, that I should have trusted them, and I wish I'd listened. I'm so sorry that I didn't. I don't want to go home, Loki. I don't want to be anywhere that you aren't. I love you. And more than that I like loving you. I want to love you... So even though I could absolutely just about fucking kill you right now for the shit you just pulled, I'd never just leave you because I-"
Her sentence was cut short when Loki, at last, leaned in, closing the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers. He kissed her as if it were inevitable. As if it were the only thing that could possibly happen next. Tenderly, he cupped her face, drawing himself closer to her even as he towered over her - as if she were this gravitational force drawing him in.
Reagan's eyes fell shut as his mouth moved against hers, her hands coming to settle on his forearms, holding him there, willing him to never be any further away from her again.
If she didn't know so intimately what it was to catch fire, she would think that this was it. As the kiss began to grow more urgent, Loki's tongue swept into her mouth and she welcomed it. She felt his hand entangling in her hair, angling her head so that he could deepen the kiss. She gave into him freely, gave into the desire, the pull.
It felt so right.
He felt so right.
Energy surged up her spine as she felt Loki's other hand trail reverently down the slope of her neck, over her shoulder, down her arm, and to the curve of her waist. She pressed herself up against him, encouragingly.
And it was only as his arm snaked around her torso. and he drew her in closer to him, held onto her as if at any moment she might be ripped away from him, she was reminded of how unnaturally strong he was. He could have crushed her to him, pinned her there so that she had no hope of ever escaping him, and yet there was something so gentle to the way his arm encircled her. He held her as if she were precious. As if she had but to say the word and he would release his grip and fall to his knees before her.
There was something vulnerable to it. And though she still held her shields in place, it was as if she could hear him anyway.
Please don't break me. You have that power.
Reagan moaned softly into his mouth as her hands roamed up his broad chest, to lace around his neck.
And when their mouths finally parted for need of oxygen, neither moved to pull away. They stood, pressed together, holding on as if each was the only thing left in all the world that mattered to the other.
"Will you let me back in?" he whispered, his forehead pressed to hers. "Just- I know I haven't the right to even ask but please, let me back in."
Reagan ran her hands down his chest as Loki brushed her hair back from her face with one hand, the other still at her waist. He was so warm - so comfortingly warm. He smelled of cedarwood and amber - a scent she was sure had all but consumed her dreaming state.
"If I do, that doesn't mean that I forgive you," she warned him, even as she smiled playfully. "You've got some grovelling to do."
"Understood. Though, I am taking the fact that you haven't set me aflame as a good sign," he murmured, his forehead still pressed against hers.
"Oh, I'm still thinking about it," she rebutted, though her smile grew all the more.
She felt him brush, tentatively, against the newly forged bond and though part of her was still afraid, she let down her defenses. Let him in.
Waves of emotion coursed over her, causing her breath to catch in her throat. Adoration. Pure adoration. She hadn't realised - she'd seen glimpses of it, but she hadn't realised just how much Loki had been concealing from her as well. And she felt it. His fear that this wasn't real, that she was going to break him. But also hope. And relief. And... love. Love, without expectation. Love that would have been there even if she'd told him to go to hell. Loki's grip on her tightened just a little more as he experienced her own tidal wave of secret things she'd concealed from him. He held her close, savouring anything - everything - that she gave him. Loki closed his eyes and kissed her again, gently this time, and when he pulled away to gaze down at her again, her eyes met his.
She smiled.
Loki swept his fingers tenderly through her hair, watching as confusion etched her features then.
"I don't understand," she murmured to him as her smile fell away, suddenly vulnerable. "The bond was gone. It wasn't just blocked off, I-- I couldn't feel you at all anymore. It was like you were gone... How did you-"
Loki sighed, low and long. He dropped her gaze, his fingers flexing a little as if he wanted to pull her closer still. Reagan watched him as he grew hesitant, unsure of how to word his response.
"I figured out how to seal it off completely a few months ago," he admitted with a grimace as if bracing himself for her anger. "It was something I was working on while you were sleeping. So that if I did find a way to escape, you wouldn't be able to warn anyone. But then I stopped wanting to leave. I started wanting..."
Reagan rested her hand over his heart and he covered it with his.
"I knew I should have told you that I'd figured it out, but I was worried you'd ask me to do it so that you could leave. I didn't want you to leave... I remember the way you'd felt when you'd learned what the mark meant. You were utterly disgusted-"
"Loki-"
"I couldn't bear the idea of telling you it could be done and feeling your...happiness at the idea of being rid of me. You'd come to mean too much to me."
Once more her eyes welled with tears as she cupped his face, she swept her thumb over his cheekbone.
"I need you to know, that if you had told me I would have said no," she murmured and Loki offered her a pained smile before he caught her hand by his face with his own and turned his head to press a kiss to her palm.
"I can show you how if you-"
"No," she said quickly, her grip on his lapel tightening. "No... please, don't do it again."
"Reagan..."
Loki leaned in once more to capture her lips with his. And though she melted into him for just a few moments, she soon pulled back to look up at him again, her expression suddenly stern.
"But, I mean it, if you ever do anything like that again I'll kill you. Slowly," she promised, poking his chest pointedly.
Loki laughed, it was a low steady rumble in his chest that Reagan felt in her very bones.
"I wonder how many other declarations of love include death threats," he mused.
Reagan smiled.
"Could you really see ours going any other way?"
"Are you still angry with me?" Loki asked, his voice warm with affection
"Oh, definitely," Reagan nodded. "But I can't help but to predict that'll be a staple between you and me, so I suppose it's okay."
Loki beamed at her.
"I love you," he murmured.
"I love you, too," she whispered, and he kissed her once more.
When they pulled apart at last, Reagan glanced around, slightly uncertainly, at the dead wasteland that surrounded them.
"So... now what?" she asked.
"I haven't the faintest idea," Loki admitted, a grin spreading slowly to light up his features.
Reagan laughed as he pressed his forehead to hers once more.
And as they held each other on a decimated planet, surrounded by nothing but an endless windstorm, bathed in the muted light of a black hole, they were home.
Notes:
I know, I know - FIIIIIINALLY, right?
But fear not, we're far from finished! There's still SO MUCH to come. With the Atraxis and Ragnarok and that whole mess in Infinity Wars that we need to sort out. So settle in. And get ready for some, quite frankly, ridiculous fluff along the way. I've written some scenes that are so sweet that my laptop now needs regular insulin shots. Omg and spicy scenes. Yay. Oh, and if you're worried that these two idiots are going to stop squabbling now just because they're in love then you're the most insane person I've ever met.
Sending my thanks to David Wallace, the patron saint of patience, for sending me readers who would wait 135k+ words for a first kiss. I love you all. You're absolutely amazing.
Lastly, I've started drafting a Bucky/OC fic if anyone is interested? I want to finish this one before I start posting that though so it'll be a while, just wanted to put the feelers out <3
Next chap coming soon :)
Chapter 26: Chapter 26
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Having the bond open between them, feeling the matching energy of relief and happiness and adrenaline, it was a magic like nothing that Loki had ever encountered before. In that moment, holding her in his arms, and feeling the full power of the marks, it didn't feel like some invisible wavelength that existed between them, connecting them on a temporal level. No... right now, it felt as if it were forged from iron.
And as his mind encircled hers tenderly as he kissed her, Loki was vaguely surprised that there were no walls held against him at all. No secret little corner of her mind that still remained hidden. She gave him everything. Even with her lilting anger still present, she let him in completely, let him feel her.
Gods, he adored her.
To see the light that she held him in, that she'd hidden from him, it seemed so impossible that it was real. And yet he bathed in it, gladly. Because standing here with her, on this wasted planet without plans or possessions... he'd never felt less alone.
As Loki's mind delved through hers and Reagan's did the same, it was playful and gentle and so deeply affectionate. It was so light, in fact, that Loki almost missed the thing hidden beneath it all.
Not hidden, rather just... smothered by the sheer force of everything else - the mental strain of coping with Malekith's attacks, the shock of Loki revealing himself as alive, the emotional onslaught of their shared confessions.
It was pain.
Reagan was in pain. Her whole body was riddled with it, bruises and aches and strains from the encounters she'd faced against the elves. And along with that, exhaustion, making each injury all the worse.
Guilt swelled within him that he hadn't realised sooner. And he cursed his wretched brother for ever involving her in this whole conquest in the first place.
He drew away to look down at her with new concern, caressing her jawline carefully as he studied her for signs of discomfort.
"What is it?" Reagan asked, confused by the change in him, as if she couldn't feel each of the injuries herself.
Loki pushed her hair back delicately at her left temple, the hair there was caked with dried blood. Reagan winced a little. She took a gentle hold of his wrist, squeezing it reassuringly as she drew his hand away.
"It happened when Malekith hit me with the Aether. It's alright, it doesn't hurt much."
"Yes, it does," Loki murmured, all too aware that it wasn't the only injury she'd sustained in battle. "Come, we shouldn't linger here. I know a place where we can tend to your wounds."
Loki's hand settled on the small of her back as he guided her towards the Skiff. She fell into step beside him, remaining close, as if drawn to the warmth of his body.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"Would you still like to see Vanaheim?"
Reagan looked up at him, squinting slightly in amusement.
"Yes," she answered simply, and Loki smirked at the unspoken question in her response.
"I may have one last trick up my sleeve," he admitted.
That seemed enough to satisfy her. Reagan climbed aboard the Skiff and settled into a seat by Loki's side. She didn't ask any more questions about his plans, instead indulging him in his need to be at least a little dramatic and keep an air of mystery to his plans. And as the vessel picked up speed, shooting out across the barren landscape, she just leaned into his warmth a little more, offering him a gentle smile before turning her attention to the horizon.
They soon approached a cliff face. It was unremarkable, indistinctive, but Loki's focus zeroed in. He steered the Skiff, careening towards a crack in the cliff face that was so narrow Reagan hadn't even noticed it. Her heart picked up pace but beside her Loki was frightfully calm. She couldn't help but tense as they got closer, every instinct in her telling her to jump from the vessel to avoid a crash.
But she was with Loki. So it was going to be alright.
With a flash of rainbow light, Svartálfheim fell away and she was bathed in the clear afternoon light of Vanaheim's sun.
Reagan gasped in awe, and as she drank in the fresh air, she immediately tasted the difference - all bitterness from the Dark World having vanished from the atmosphere and was replaced by the rich, crisp smell of thriving woodlands. Green. Everything was so green and thriving and full of life. It was everything that Svartálfheim wasn't.
She turned around to look at him, and as she so often found, his eyes were already on her.
How did you find all these passageways?
I found myself enraptured with the lure of dark magic for a time when I was younger. The use of it... unveils certain secrets of the universe to the user.
Dark magic. Sounds fun. Anything you want to show me?
No, Loki responded, far more firmly than Reagan had expected. It startled her a little before he softened, realising. No... it's not to be meddled with. Odin himself only calls upon it in times of true desperation. It's a forbidden practice.
How did you get involved with it then?
Well, I wasn't supposed to, so naturally...
Ah.
I went through a bit of a rebellious phase in my adolescence, he told her.
You? she said, sarcastically.
Loki only smiled.
He steered the Skiff over open lush, grassy plains and past large bodies of water until eventually they reached an opening into thick woods. It seemed random, but Loki steered with purpose, weaving expertly through the trees and then up a long, slopping hill.
Reagan sat back happily, taking in the views, savouring the chance to sit back and not have to think or... do.
Higher and higher, the hillside rose until finally, the trees cleared, giving way to an open clearing, looking out onto the woodlands below. Within the clearing stood a lone, modest cabin.
They approached it and Loki at last brought the Skiff to a stop. Reagan glanced at him questioningly. Loki just stood and offered her his hand, giving nothing away. She took it, allowing him to guide her off the vessel and towards the cabin door. Loki opened it without having to unlock it. Curiously, she followed him inside.
The interior was pristine, and warm as if a fire had been burning in the hearth for hours. It was comprised of rich, earthy tones, and a high ceiling, painted a shade of chestnut so deep it almost looked black. Glowing yellow bulbs of varying sizes hung from black chains, bathing the space in warm, yellow light. With wooden floors and panelled walls and a plush, oversized lounge facing a deep stone fireplace, there was something soothing about the space, something welcoming. Reagan glanced around, looking for Loki.
He was still by the entryway, leaning against the door frame, his arms folded as he allowed her to move through the space, observing the furnishings, the decor.
"Who's house is this?" Reagan asked as she took it in.
"Mine," Loki responded, simply.
She whipped around to look at him, her eyebrows shooting toward her hairline.
"Are you serious?"
"Indeed, I am."
"Well, look at you, you little real estate mogul. A castle on Asgard, a holiday house here. Did you swipe up any juicy properties while you were on Earth?"
"Well, I did have my eye on one particular tower, but my plans to commandeer it were unexpectedly thwarted," Loki smirked as he watched her survey the room.
Reagan glanced over her shoulder at him with an amused grin.
"Did you spend a lot of time here... you know, before?"
"Not really. There was a time not so long ago when the Nine Realms were in chaos and the forces of Asgard were sent out to remind enemies of our might. It can be macabre. It's easy to grow weary of war. I found it a comfort to have an escape... somewhere that I wouldn't hear the battle horns. But I never really liked it here, if I'm to be honest," he admitted. "It always seemed a little too empty."
"And here I was thinking you preferred your own company," she replied, still turning slowly to take in her surroundings.
Loki smiled softly as he watched her.
"Not lately."
When Reagan turned to look at him over her shoulder, practically melting under his gaze. He inclined his head.
"Come, let's get you cleaned up."
Reagan followed him into a spacious washroom, at the centre of which was a sunken bathing pool, easily large enough to fit a dozen people. Loki strode past it to a cabinet on the other side of the room. He opened it to reveal stoppered glass bottles of all different shapes and sizes, all containing various liquids. None were labelled, but as Loki sifted through them he seemed to know what he was looking for.
"Sit," he instructed, gesturing to a countertop beside him.
Obediently, Reagan hoisted herself up, wincing a little as her tired muscles protested. She swung her legs idly as she watched Loki sort through the various bottles on the shelves. When he selected one that was a rather vibrant shade of pink he moved over towards her.
He opened the bottle and her nostrils filled with the distinct scent of chamomile as well as something totally foreign to her, though not unpleasant.
"What is that stuff?" she asked.
"It's a balm that accelerates healing," Loki said as he moved towards her as he glanced up at her temple. "It will encourage that wound to close more quickly and it should also ease your discomfort."
Reagan felt the warm glow of magic over the wound hidden beneath her hair and she touched it curiously only to find her fingers came away clean. No blood remained there - crusted or fresh. She glanced up at Loki wore a proud sort of smile.
"Neat trick," she admitted.
"It comes in handy. Now, hold still for me."
Loki began applying the salve to her injury and she breathed a sigh of relief as the throbbing pain there instantly began to ease. He was so impossibly gentle as he tended to her, and she couldn't help but smile a little as she glanced at him to find his expression so focused.
She felt him searching the bond, using it methodically to catalogue any injuries she had sustained. He saw to all of them. Even the most insignificant ones, like the small scratch on her left shin that she wasn't even entirely sure was from the dark elves. Patiently, she watched as Loki applied the salve to every last bruise and scratch he came across. The ointment slowly faded from a brilliant pink to nothingness as it soaked into her skin each time.
"It probably would have been quicker to just come at me with a paint roller," she teased.
Loki smirked at the idea.
"Indulge me," he murmured, and she relented.
"I do appreciate it," she admitted, her whole body was feeling so much better - her aches and pains having eased, her muscles relaxing under his attentive touches.
Finally, only one injury remained. Probably the worst after the split in her scalp. But she understood why he'd left it for last. Beneath her dress, the ache in her ribs was ever-present. There was substantial bruising there, she was certain of it. She knew Loki was aware of it too, so he wasn't going to just let her ignore it. And the salve had helped so much.
She looked up at him and her eyes met his. Loki hesitated, his hand ghosting over the injury.
"Will you help me?" she asked, sparing him from having to ask.
Reagan turned a little on the spot to allow Loki access to the fastenings running along her spine and swept her hair over one shoulder so that it wasn't in the way. He unhooked them slowly, and little by little, cool air kissed its way further down her spine until her entire back was exposed. She turned back to face him again and slipped one arm free, then the other, allowing the garment to fall away. She wore a bra, a simple black thing, made from the same unburnable fabric as her dress. But still, she'd never been so exposed to him. Even at their worst, Loki had never violated her privacy like that.
Her eyes flicked up to search his but he was pointedly avoiding her gaze, as well as other parts of her anatomy. Instead, he was laser-focused on her ribcage, the early mottle of bruising beginning to show, blooming over something already tattooed there. Loki recognised it instantly.
Medusa. Black and white and exquisitely detailed. Reagan had mentioned it to him only once and he'd been... he'd been jealous. He'd hidden it behind indifference but the thought had sent him wild. Before she'd even met him, she'd chosen other gods, other legends. Her interest had been piqued by powers and mysterious things that weren't him. He'd known he was being unreasonable. He'd known that. But for her to love a myth so much that she would brand it on her skin... he'd hated it long before he'd ever laid eyes upon it. But now, staring down at her exposed skin, and the images she had chosen to decorate herself with, it felt like he were privy to a secret.
It was almost enough to distract him from the other parts of her that he longed to allow himself to admire.
Almost.
He'd long since lost count of the hours he'd spent imagining what it would be like to peel away her clothing to discover her hidden artworks. But also the swell of her breasts. The smooth slope of skin which made up her torso. Even her naval. He still hadn't sighted it, and yet he longed to dip his tongue into it.
He wanted to devour her.
He clenched his jaw and swallowed, willing himself to regain some modicum of self-control.
She's hurt, he reminded himself. And that was enough for him to right his thinking process. She was hurt. She needed his help. She didn't need him lost in foggy daydreams of all the ways he wanted to ravish her.
Refocused, Loki applied the salve to her marred ribcage and lingered there, his thumb ghosting over her skin. Reagan shivered under his touch and Loki's nostrils suddenly flared as he scented the effect that simple motion had on her. Once again his resolve came undone. Norns, she was going to be the death of him.
"Loki..." he heard her whisper.
His eyes finally drew up to meet hers, and it was both a relief and a torment to see lust there that rivalled his own. Loki wasn't sure who moved first, all he knew was that one moment he was gazing into her eyes and the next he was kissing her ravenously. Reagan's hands were on him then, roaming up his chest to his shoulders to the hair at the nape of his neck. And when his tongue swept over hers a desperate sort of sound escaped her.
He wanted to lose himself in her entirely, and if it hadn't been for the bond he might have. But he was all too aware of her injuries.
Loki, regretfully, pulled away ever so slightly. His forehead pressed to hers, only a hair's breadth between them as they both panted for air. As he felt her trying to pull him back to her, he closed his eyes so that he might have the resolve to say what he needed to say.
"We shouldn't be doing this," he murmured, though he groaned softly as Reagan ignored him and leaned in to kiss his throat. "Not while you're injured."
"I'm fine," she insisted, encircling her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his pulse point.
His hand moved to the curve of her spine, almost against his own will.
"Reagan," he protested weakly as he felt her tongue on his skin. "I don't want to hurt you. There'll be time for this later."
And even as he said it, his other hand was moving slowly up her thigh, kneading at her flesh, bunching her skirts up to reveal more of her skin to him. She was so warm. Her skin was so soft. And he'd craved her like this for so, so long.
"We have time now," she insisted.
She parted her thighs, allowing more room for him to slot between them, closer to her. He moved to her like she was a magnet, closing his eyes and burying his face in her hair, inhaling the scent as his hands roamed her body. Reagan then trailed her fingers slowly down his chest, down his stomach, finding their way to the hem of his tunic. She slipped one hand beneath it, her fingertips skimming over the warm skin there, trailing along the waistline of his pants. Loki hissed.
"You're not playing fair," he breathed.
"You faked your death," she rebutted pointedly, though he could hear the smile in her voice. "Loki, I want you. Please... Let me have you."
A guttural groan escaped him at those words.
"I'm trying to take care of you," he told her, squeezing his eyes shut in a final attempt to remain on task.
"So take care of me," she purred, amusement lacing the words. She flattened her hand against his abdomen beneath his clothes, savouring the feeling of his hard muscles tensing under her touch.
It was like a dam inside her had broken. A dam she'd built herself, after months and months of telling herself that she didn't want him, didn't need him. And now that it was gone, she had no intention of building it back up again.
Loki by no means considered himself a man lacking self-discipline but he had been convinced for so long that he'd never get to experience her like this for so very many reasons. And so to have her there, willing him - begging him - to take her.
To try and resist that, he might as well have tried to swallow the sun.
"I need you to tell me to stop," Loki pleaded one last time even as he grazed his teeth down the length of her neck, earning a gasp from her.
"No," she whispered in response, nipping at his earlobe.
The scent of her hair, her skin, it was intoxicating.
And then her hand was on his jaw, drawing his mouth back to hers, coaxing him closer.
"I don't know how to control myself around you," he whispered.
"Then don't," she said simply.
They crashed together then, a mess of lips and tongues and teeth. The kiss quickly turned hungry - urgent.
And just as the last of his resolve crumbled and Loki was giving in, he felt her entire body go suddenly rigid.
He pulled back to look at her quickly, alarmed he'd hurt her. And her gaze was fixed on him.
"But don't cut my hair off," she said sternly.
Surprised, Loki threw his head back and laughed.
He raised a hand, his pinky finger extended.
"You have my word," he assured her.
Reagan smiled as she wrapped her finger around his, tugging gently on it to draw him in closer once more. Loki kissed her again, one hand coming up to cup her face, the other still holding her pinky. And only when she let go to encircle her arms around his neck did his arm snake around her waist.
He lifted her suddenly and swept her from the room. She gave a surprised squeal and instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist.
"Where are we going?" she asked, pressing up against him.
"I can't tell you the hours I've endured thinking of all the things I wanted to do to you, all the while believing you'd forever be off limits to me. If I'm to have you for the first time, it won't be on a cold tiled floor," he murmured, pupils blown wide when he looked at her.
Reagan's stomach fluttered.
They reached the bedroom quickly and Loki lay her down on a decadently large bed before stripping her dress from her body. He gazed down at her, laid out before him and bent over her, licking from her naval to her breast bone as he settled himself between her thighs.
"You're still wearing too many layers," Reagan murmured, reaching for him.
In an instant, he was shirtless and she watched slightly breathless as Loki prowled up her body like a predator.
Beautiful.
He was beautiful.
Those brilliant green eyes of his. His silken back hair, slightly dishevelled now, fell into his face over those perfect cheekbones and striking jawline. His broad shoulders, his whole body hard and sculpted, the lean muscles rippling beneath his skin. He was otherworldly. Eternal. Powerful. And he loved her.
Reagan stilled for a moment as her eyes fell to the iridescent cuff encircling his forearm. She'd only ever seen his once, fleetingly, that first day in the elevator. Before she understood what it was. Before she could ever have comprehended what he would come to mean to her.
She lifted her hand to touch the mark, her own glinting as it caught the light. Loki watched her and slowed.
A moment of tenderness amongst heated passion.
"That's the first place you ever touched me," she murmured to him, with a small smile. "I wonder how many other people get to know that."
"I suppose it's a good thing you didn't headbutt me," Loki smirked.
And Reagan giggled as she drew him to her once more.
Their lips met again and Loki's hand swept beneath her reaching behind her to unclasp her bra. As he kissed her, his hand stilled there for a moment, asking for permission and Reagan arched into him, curving her spine and allowing him better access.
He pulled the garment away then and draw back to look at her, pupils blown wide as he stared at her bare breasts.
And the tattoo there.
The noise he made was almost inhuman.
Framing her breasts, was a delicate design of two vines crossing over at the apex of her sternum and branching out beneath the undercurve of her supple mounds. They were laced with an etching of stars, making it appear as if they dripped from the delicate leaves of the vines.
All over her were these markings. Markings he hadn't known were there.
Stars and a crescent moon.
Symbols he didn't yet know the meaning to.
Roses decorating the whole curve of her left hip.
A pattern down her right thigh.
Symbols upon her feet and ankles.
Loki wanted to memorise every one.
"I thought you didn't like my tattoos," she gasped when he leaned down to run his tongue along the ink beneath her breasts.
"Darling, I told you..." he murmured into her skin, only glancing up to meet her eye. "I like everything about you."
He took her nipple in his mouth then, swirling his tongue over it as it budded and she arched up into him.
Slowly, as if savouring it, he ran his hand firmly down her torso. When he reached the apex of her thighs, his fingers travelled lower and he entered her, making her gasp.
And his mouth soon followed, latching onto her. She felt him enter her mind, reading her for the things she craved from him, and he answered every desire he found there with expert administration. It wasn't long before she was trembling beneath him.
"Loki, I..."
It was all she managed before he redoubled his efforts and her climax crashed through her.
A guttural noise escaped her and Loki soon moved back up her body to swallow it, his lips colliding desperately with hers. Reagan opened her legs wider from him, his thighs pressing hard to the back of hers and then finally he pressed his length into her.
He stared into her eyes as he sunk into her painfully slowly, and Reagan moaned softly as he filled her, stretched her, deeper and deeper. And when at last he'd hilted, he leaned in to kiss her tenderly.
Her eyes fluttered shut as his mouth moved against hers, each of them groaning softly as Loki began to move in her. Slowly at first, tenderly. And then faster. Heated. Desperate. Their breaths mingled together, hands roaming, nails scratching. They soon grew breathless, sweat soaking their skin as their movements grew more urgent.
She could feel something building in him, his desire to put something to words. The way he was holding himself back from it.
"Say it," she whispered, lacing her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. "Loki... Say it."
"You're mine," he growled then, and though his voice was like velvet, she heard it there - the ghost of question.
"I am," she whispered back, as he pressed his forehead against hers as he moved inside of her. "I'm yours."
Something shifted in him then, as if he were possessed. He slammed into her relentlessly, his teeth sank into the flesh of her neck before he swirled his tongue over the spot, soothing the ache there.
"I love you," he murmured against her skin.
And the bond hummed with pure, near-blinding emotion.
Reagan reached her peek with a strangled cry and Loki soon followed, and they clung to each other through it. Gasping for breath, their lips met once more in a languid kiss. And when Loki pulled away to gaze down at her, still buried deep inside her, as they both tried to calm their breathing, they each laughed a little. Giddy. Relieved. Happy.
"I love you," they whispered in unison.
Loki leaned in to kiss her again.
Reagan awoke the next morning to find her back pressed firmly against the warmth of Loki's hard body. His arm was wrapped possessively around her waist, holding her close to him, and their legs tangled together beneath sinfully soft blankets. She stretched a little before settling back against him contently but then stilled, her eyes flew open as a thought entered her mind.
Tentatively, she reach up to run her fingers through her hair and breathed a soft sigh of relief when she found the locks just as long as they had been the night before.
She felt laughter rumble low in his chest against her spine and he leaned in to press a lazy kiss to her shoulder blade.
"And here I was half-convinced I had your trust," he murmured against her skin, his voice slightly husky with sleep.
"You do," she smiled to herself. "I just wanted to make sure that it wasn't very, very stupid of me to give it to you."
"A small part of me did consider there might be a possibility that you would find it at least a little funny if I were to do it."
"I lack the vocabulary to explain to you how incorrect you would have been."
"It's fortunate that I didn't decide to risk it, then. I thought it best not to misstep with you two days in a row."
Reagan laughed.
"Misstep, huh? That's certainly downplaying your little fake-out, don't you think?"
"Yes, well, it helps me to keep my sanity. After all, that misstep almost led to me losing you."
And while his voice was still rather playful, Reagan heard the vulnerability there too. And it was so brand new a thing in him to be revealing to her Just the knowledge that yesterday's events had scared him too, that he'd been just as shaken by the idea of being without her, it made her heart ache. Just yesterday, she'd thought he was gone, that she'd never see him again. Just a few days ago, he'd been locked away deep beneath the city of Asgard, doomed to be kept away from her forever. And she was here beside him, soaking in the warmth of his body pressed against hers.
Reagan turned over to face him. Loki's grip on her loosed just long enough for her to roll over before his arms settled around her once again. She leaned in to press a kiss to his chest then settled there against the warmth of him.
"I'm right here," she whispered.
She didn't offer any more words of reassurance. She didn't need to. The bond was open between them. Strong and alive with emotion and tenderness, saying more than either of them could ever put into words.
Together, they fell back into a contented doze and slept the morning away, entangled in each other.
"And what about this one? What is it?"
Loki grazed his fingers over an oddly shaped creature tattooed on her inner arm.
For the new few days that followed, it seemed that Loki was not satisfied unless he was touching her in some way, pleasuring her in some way, serving her in some way. The countless hours he'd spent trapped in that infernal cell, fantasising about how he'd wanted so desperately to take her to bed, but also, just to learn what it was to be near her.
For that reason, and for the fact that there was nowhere else in the universe they needed to be, they spent the majority of their time in bed or curled up by the fire, or taking in the views laid out before them from the comfort of soft seating under the wide cabin windows.
On this particularly cold morning, neither Loki nor Reagan had been overly inclined to leave the warm comfort of the bed they'd shared. It was such a simple thing, body warmth. That they had known each other for so long, had touched each other, sat close to one another, held each other, but the warmth of it was new... and welcome. And so some mornings, leaving that felt like a task verging upon impossible. Which is why they agreed it was wise to abandon any attempt at it. On this morning, Loki had taken his time exploring Reagan's body, seeing to her wounds which were all but healed now, but also mapping the tattoos she'd collected on her skin, asking for their stories, wanting to know every one of them as well as she did.
He studied the little creature that lived tucked away on her inner bicep. It was vaguely serpentine in nature, though it appeared to have two sets of fins.
"That's the Lochness Monster," Reagan explained, looking down at where Loki's fingers rested. "I used to be obsessed with it. It's a legend. He's this giant sea creature that is supposed to exist in a lake in Scotland, most people don't believe he exists but others travel there hoping to be lucky enough to spot him out on the water somewhere. I always wanted to go."
"And this one?" Loki asked as he moved down her body, to the small jellyfish dancing its way up her pelvis.
"There's no meaning behind that one really, I've just always liked that they're kind of weird and pretty and don't make a whole lot of sense."
Loki reached for her ankle, bending her knee up gently, his finger swept over a tiny drawing on the inside of her ankle. This one didn't seem to match the rest. The linework far thicker - cruder. It didn't seem to have been branded onto her skin with the same delicate care as the rest.
"And this one?" he asked.
Reagan hesitated, her eyes landing upon the small cartoon burger who stared back at her with a maddeningly innocent smiley face.
"I don't think you're going to like that one," she said, a little reluctantly.
Loki leaned in to press his lips to the inked skin, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Tell me anyway," he murmured.
Reagan steeled herself, feeling a little cruel that she wasn't about to just make up some lie for his benefit. But he was inside her head, so even if she'd tried it, he would have quickly realised the truth.
"A few years ago, I went on vacation with my ex-boyfriend, Austin. We had a really good time, and there was this burger joint that we ate at most days, just up the road from the beach. There was a tattoo parlour on top of it so we thought it would be fun to get stupid, spur-of-the-moment, matching tattoos. It was dumb. We broke up a few months after that. "
Reagan watched, unable to fully hide her amusement, as Loki's jaw twitched with annoyance. He drew back a little to stare at the tattoo with a newfound disdain. He then shifted a little to line himself up with her ribcage.
"Medusa, wonderful news," he said to the woman inked there. "You're now my second least-favourite tattoo."
Reagan giggled and laid her hand over the image of the woman, shielding her from his view.
"Don't be mean to her," she giggled.
"Why do you like her so much anyway?"
His voice was still rife with annoyance and jealousy and Reagan bit down on the urge to remind him that he was, in fact, a massive dork.
Luckily, his question had also left her feeling slightly self-conscious. She'd never actually shown that particular tattoo to anyone else. Never talked about it. It had been one that was just for her. Loki spotted it, her hesitance and he softened as he watched her.
"Do you know the story?" Reagan murmured quietly, fiddling idly with the hem of the sheets pooled in her lap so that she didn't have to meet his eye. "What happened to her?"
Loki shook his head.
"She wasn't always this terrible monster with snakes for hair," she explained. "She used to just be an ordinary girl. She worshipped the Goddess Athena and became a priestess in her temple. She devoted her life to her. But she was beautiful - too beautiful - and Athena was jealous of her because people would come to her temple just to gaze upon Medusa. And one day, she caught the attention of Poseidon, the God of the Sea. He told he wanted her but she rejected his advances, and so eventually, he just took her by force. He did it in Athena's temple because she had run there for sanctuary, hoping that her Goddess would protect her. When Athena found out what had happened she punished Medusa for it. Turned her into this," Reagan gestured to the image on her ribs. "And she made it so that anyone who ever dared to look her in the eye again would be turned to stone, so that she would always be alone."
Loki remained silent, listening, his brow furrowing gently as he watched her.
"Something really terrible happened to her," Reagan murmured at last. "Something that made her an outcast. That made her hurt people even if she didn't want to. She was all alone. And everyone was afraid of her. But she turned that curse into her strength. I got it when I was struggling to control my powers because I wanted to be like her."
A gentle hand took hold of her chin and guided her to look his way. She found him staring down at her adoringly and couldn't help but to smile before Loki leaned in and kissed her tenderly, his hand settled protectively over the inked artwork on her ribs.
"I also wonder what it would look like if a mirror looked in another mirror," Reagan said, gazing into the fire that crackled in the hearth, in the latest hours of the evening.
When Loki didn't answer she turned her head, rolling over into a slightly cooler patch in the sheets. She tucked her arm beneath her head like a makeshift pillow. Loki lay on his side, his head propped up on his hand, watching her with a small smile playing on his lips.
"I also wonder if being dizzy this way feels the same as being dizzy this way," Reagan spun her finger in a horizontal circle and then in a vertical one.
Again Loki didn't respond.
"I also wonder--"
"Reagan?" Loki said gently, at last.
"Hmm?"
"I wasn't being literal."
Reagan frowned a little as if he were being entirely ridiculous.
"You said 'every thought I've ever had.' That's what you said," she told him.
Loki's smile grew all the more adoring, he reached for her then, and she went willingly, curling up against him.
"You're right. My apologies," he swept his fingers through her hair. "Do continue."
"I also wonder who decided it needed to be spelled 'queue'... that's so excessive. Like, what else were they in charge of?"
"You know you need to tell Thor that you're alive, right?"
Loki scoffed at the idea as he handed her a cup of steaming, fragrant tea and sat down opposite her on the cushioned window sill to gaze out over the brilliant view of evergreen-covered mountains. Reagan moved to cross her ankles casually over his thigh as she leaned back to sip from her cup. The liquid was scolding but it didn't phase her.
"Come now, there's no need to spoil our evening with such talk," Loki retorted.
"I mean it, Loki. He was devastated. I'm actually feeling a little guilty that I haven't made you do it yet."
Loki threw her an incredulous look, the telltale glint of amusement in his eye.
"Oh, you think you can make me, do you?"
"Absolutely," she said simply. "You owe me."
"How do I owe you?"
"Because you faked your own death," Reagan said pointedly.
"Enlighten me. Exactly how long are you planning on milking that?"
"At least until I'm old and grey."
She'd just been teasing, but the moment the words had slipped from her lips she wished she could unsay them. The air shifted and tension settled between them. They'd been ignoring it, and they were both well aware of it. But that had been okay because this thing between them was still so new. Only a few days old. And so it had been okay to ignore the thing they both sorely wanted to ignore. Reagan caught the change in him, watched his smile fade a little. She lowered her tea into her lap, gripping it with both hands to stop from trembling, looked down into it so that for just a few moments she didn't have to look at him. His hand settled on her ankle, anchoring each of them.
"Should we talk about it?" she asked, glancing up at him once more.
Loki shook his head slowly, unable to hide the pain from his expression.
"Another time," he said softly.
Reagan set her cup aside and moved towards him. He pulled her slowly - effortlessly - into his lap, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Okay," she agreed in barely even a whisper. She pressed her face into his neck, pressed her lips to his skin. Not quite a kiss, just... lingering there.
"Will you say it again?" He asked then, his voice so painfully soft.
She lifted her head to look at him and knew exactly what he meant.
"Loki, I love you," she said simply. It sounded like the truest thing in all the world.
His grip on her tightened and he pressed a kiss into her hair.
"Take me to bed?" she suggested.
"You're tired?"
She offered him a small smile, that held just a whisper of mischief.
"Nope."
Later that same evening, the pair lay in bed together. The tension from the conversation that had come earlier had been eased by the hours they'd lost to heated kisses and decadent touches and gasps and moans and sweat. And though Loki's mood had improved, he hadn't quite come back into the light yet. And so Reagan did her best to coax him there. She lit a fire with her powers, filling the room with her warmth, and had slipped to the kitchen, naked and barefoot, returning with a platter of fruits, nuts and cheeses, and two glasses of a deep, rich liquor that Loki seemed to favour. They talked into the early hours of the morning.
"What's your favourite season?" Reagan asked him, taking a small sip from her glass. The liquor was honeyed yet still burned on the way down, spreading a comfortable warmth through her. She lay on her belly, propped up on her elbows. Loki lay beside her, propped up on a few pillows, one arm folded behind his head. Beneath the covers, he draped one thigh over hers.
"It used to be winter," he told her.
"Used to be?"
Loki hesitated a little.
"I'd always rather enjoyed the cold. The snow. Especially the storms. It's one of the reasons I had this place built here. But after I found out what I was... It was hard not to resent any sort of reminder of my true nature."
As always when she witnessed moments of his self-loathing, a sadness swelled in Reagan. And this was only the surface of it, what he was ready to reveal to her. It all ran so much deeper. She made a silent promise to herself that she'd find a way to help him unlearn all those untrue things he believed about himself. For now, though, she inclined her head playfully.
"I think it should still be winter," she murmured then. "I think it suits you."
"Does it?"
"Yeah. Besides, it's my favourite too."
Loki smiled softly.
"Well, that settles it then," he replied contently.
"Okay, next. Theee..." Reagan drew the word out, thinking. "Best gift you ever got?"
His gentle smile remained in place even as his gaze dropped from hers. Instead of answering aloud, he grazed his thumb over the cuff encircling her forearm. That simple gesture said far more than words ever could.
Reagan wondered at that moment if it was possible for her heart to actually burst. Affection coursed down the bond and she took his hand in hers and pressed a kiss to his palm before settling her cheek there.
"Really though, tell me," she insisted. "The most precious physical thing anyone ever gave you."
Loki contemplated for a few moments, and Reagan watched curiously as something shifted in him.
"Do you remember the morning you'd finally had it with me, and you went to wreak havoc upon my chambers?"
Reagan smirked.
"Vaguely."
"Do remember the orb you picked up? The one you threatened to smash?"
Reagan stilled for a moment, thinking back. So much had happened since then. She'd spent so much time fighting him, trying to get a rise out of him, and then getting to know him, being welcomed into him, exploring his castle, coming to be what they now were. She'd almost entirely forgotten about that orb. It had seemed so insignificant. But then that's why it had stood out. So plain a thing amongst the other lavish items which had decorated Loki's chambers. But it had been that orb... when she'd threatened to break it, he had yielded. He'd pleaded. He'd agreed for the first time to help her. It had been that important to him.
"What is it?" she murmured, her brows drawing together.
The thought that it was the thing he was choosing to tell her about now - his most prized item - it made her ill at the thought that she'd almost destroyed it.
"It was my mother's," he told her. "And her mother's before her. Forged by a witch who had managed to trap a spell inside the belly of it. A near-impossible thing to do."
"What kind of spell?"
"If you were gaze into it long enough, you'd glimpse a secret of what your future held," Loki explained. "There's no controlling what you'll see, and once you've seen it, that's the end of it. It will never reveal anything to you again. Just one secret. Sometimes cryptic. But always, something significant. Thor went first. As he always did. And when he looked into it, he was delighted to see himself as a grown man, wielding the power of lightning."
"And what did you see?"
He didn't answer her immediately, seemingly lost in thought. Reagan wondered for a moment if perhaps he wasn't going to tell her at all.
"Loki?" she pressed gently.
"A girl made of fire," he whispered at last.
Whatever she'd expected his answer to be it hadn't been that. Confusion bloomed in her as she watched him, waiting for him to go on. Slowly, she sat up so she could better view him, her heart thundering against her ribcage.
"I saw the marks," he admitted. "One on my arm, the other on yours. I saw you set yourself aflame with rage. I saw that you hated me. And that is all it would reveal to me."
She felt the colour draining from her face.
"That's all you saw?" she whispered in horror and Loki nodded.
"I never told anyone. Frigga saw that whatever I had seen had shaken me but I refused to tell her what it was. She gifted me the orb as her mother had to her. She told me she'd seen something as a child that she'd thought would be awful but when it came to fruition, she used it to strengthen her. She never told me what it was. But she asked me to trust her. And so I kept it as a symbol - a goal - to... unbe whatever it was that you saw and loathed in me upon sight. I supposed the idea of it turned me bitter. I never told anyone what I'd seen. Not a soul. I grew up knowing that I'd be a bearer of the mark. That my soulmate was forged from fire... and that when I found you, you wouldn't want me. When I found you, you'd loathe me."
"Loki... I'm so sorry."
"I didn't recognise you," he went on. He sounded so fragile, lost in memory. "Your face was burned into my memory for centuries, and yet I didn't even realise it was you. Thanos - the power of the sceptre - it had corrupted my mind to such an extent that when I saw a mortal girl atop that tower fighting off the Chitauri with her own conjured flames, I didn't even consider it might be you. And even after it was over, when I was clear again... Reagan, I prayed it wouldn't be you. Despite knowing it, despite the lure that I felt. Because if it was you, then it all made sense. And there would be no undoing of it. I think perhaps that's part of why I treated you so poorly in the beginning. I was full of such rage, still trying to come back from Thanos' hold. And then there you were, already having witnessed the worst of me. I'd taken the mind of someone dear to you. I'd killed. I'd tried to take the freedom of all your people. How could there ever be redemption to be had from that?"
"Loki..."
"I loathe myself," he went on, "for the way I invaded your mind in those early days. But I'd waited so long to find you. I'd waited for your disdain. I'd... hoped that in knowing of it, I could undo it. But there was nothing to be done about the mess I'd made, showing you the worst of me before the bond ever forged. I didn't know about the link - at least, not the psychic element of it - and so having that access to you, feeling how you loathed me... I pushed you, made it all the worse, so that I could cultivate a lie for myself that it had been my choosing. That it had happened on purpose. That I hadn't wanted you."
She couldn't stand it anymore, tears spilled down her face and the moment Loki saw it he sat up, reaching for her.
"Don't do that," he whispered gently. "Please, don't cry."
"I'm so sorry," she told him. "I'm so, so sorry."
"You needn't feel guilt, darling," he assured her. "It wasn't your doing."
But it felt like it was. For him to have endured years - centuries - of knowing that he would face the rejection of the one soul in the universe who was truly meant for him. It was unimaginable. A cruelty. A loneliness like no other. A loneliness bred from waiting for loneliness. Rejection before he'd even had a chance to offer up what he was. And even if she hadn't known, even if she'd had every right to feel the way she had, it made her sick to her stomach that she had brought that prophecy into fruition for him. No wonder he'd never felt as though he was enough. No wonder he so desperately desired to be seen as Thor's equal... why he'd thought that she would leave him at the first chance she was presented with. When he'd grown up his whole life believing his true equal would only despise him.
More tears fell as she took in his features. That face she'd grown to adore more than any other in existence.
"I need you to understand that maybe at the start I didn't-" she shook her head quickly, couldn't even bring herself to say it. "I didn't know you then, okay? But once I did, once I got to know you even a little, I had to actively try not to like you. I had to remind myself over and over that I shouldn't. Because it was too easy to like you, Loki. I couldn't stop myself from wanting to talk to you or to see you or to be around you. It was impossible not to. And it wasn't the bond... it was you. You make me happy, Loki. You made it so stupidly easy to like you. And so falling in love with you? I never stood a chance. And I'm so glad for it."
Loki smiled softly as he watched her pouring herself out to him once again.
"I'm glad for it too. And I hope that you know that this is worth all of it. I'd endure anything to have ended up here with you."
She leaned in and pressed her lips to his.
"Wait," she said then, pulling back to look at him. "Why is that the best gift you ever got? That sounds terrible."
His grin twisted into something slightly sinister.
"Thor wanted it too, but our mother gave it to me. The tantrum he threw was monstrous, it was utterly delightful."
And though her face was still wet with tears, Reagan buried her face into the curve of his neck as laughter spilled out of her.
His arms encircled her, holding her close as he laughed along with her. But Reagan felt the whisper of a still-fresh ache in him again.
Frigga.
Reagan pulled back to look at him, and just the look on her face was enough to tell Loki that she knew. That she understood.
"I'm glad that I got to meet her," she murmured, her hand on his chest.
Loki made a noise of agreement, dropping her gaze. He trailed his fingers down the length of her arm, taking comfort in how soft her skin was.
"So am I. I wish I could have told her about us."
"She knows," Reagan smiled gently. "I think she knew long before either of us did."
Loki pressed a kiss to her temple, lingering there, still lost in memory - the gentle moment in his youth when his mother had gifted him the orb, knowing that he would suffer and yet believing that he could rise above whatever fate would deal him.
"She said she loathed me to suffer it, but it was my choosing as to how it would shape me."
Reagan smiled.
"My mom used to say something similar," she admitted.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, but she worded it a little differently. Something like... it's important to go through at least a little childhood trauma or else you don't turn out funny."
Laughter burst out of him, and it made Reagan beam with pride.
"She sounds like an interesting woman."
"She was. She was... awesome."
Loki hesitated a moment, before asking the question.
"Do you think she would have..."
"Oh, absolutely," Reagan smiled. "I mean, she would have decked you with a frying pan for New York but... if I'd asked, she would have given you a chance. And she would have loved you. She was good at reading people. She would have had you all figured out. Way faster than I ever did."
It was when Reagan, at last, found sleep that night with her head resting upon Loki's bare chest, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat, that she first dreamt of the woman.
She was standing in a blanket of thick snow, the sky above her shadowed with storm clouds which had not yet opened up.
Her skin was time-weathered. Salt and pepper dreadlocks reached well past the small of her back.
She raised her golden eyes and gazed directly at Reagan as if she sensed her presence there.
The woman smiled and beckoned her closer.
Notes:
So I basically wrote the whole second half of this chap with If We Were Vampires by Noah Kahan on loop. I feel like it suits them so well. If you haven't heard it, check it out. It's beautiful.
I truly hope you enjoyed :) more coming soon xx
Chapter Text
Snow whirled through the air on a frost-bitten gale of torrential force. The sky above was filled with storm clouds, so all-encompassing and imposingly grey even when veins of lightning crackled through them, illuminating the sky. Such a stark contrast with the endless plains of snow-covered grounds below. White in every direction. So endlessly white. For miles and miles, all that could be seen was snow. The storm was relentless, scaring away all manner of living things to hide in holes and trees and underground. Anywhere that offered even a modicum of shelter - of warmth.
And yet, she stood there anyway, as if in defiance of it. Raising her head to face the wild winds as if it were only a cool breeze that kissed against her skin.
The woman was old. Time had drained the colour from her hair though the signs that those dreadlocks were once inky black still remained. Her dark skin was wrinkled. It was stretched and thinning over the bones in her hands, which she clasped together calmly in front of her. She was patient. Waiting for something.
For her.
She opened her eyes. They glowed golden, bright with knowing.
She turned them once again in Reagan's direction and beckoned her towards her through the storm.
Reagan awoke with a sharp gasp as she shot up in bed, gazing wildly around the room, trying to orient herself. It was the earliest hours of the morning. The sun had not yet risen and their bedroom was cloaked in darkness since the embers of their evening fire had died away to nothing. Cool air kissed her clammy skin as she exhaled shakily and swept her hair back from her face. She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself.
Beside her, Loki sat up slowly. She felt the mattress shift behind her slightly as he leaned his weight on one hand there, the other settling on her shoulder, stroking the length of her arm soothingly. He pressed a slow kiss to her bare shoulder blade as she worked to steady her breathing.
"This is the third night in a row you've dreamed of her," he murmured into the darkness.
"I know," Reagan whispered back, drawing her knees up to her chest to hug them. There was no point in denying it, she knew he'd seen it.
The first time she'd dreamed of her, Reagan had thought nothing of it. Just a dream. Nothing more. The second time, she'd thought it was an odd coincidence. She'd never had the exact same dream twice before. She'd told Loki in passing when they'd woken the next day. The third time it had happened, she'd known. Something was wrong. This wasn't normal. She'd woken Loki. Told him. Showed him. And a chill had swept through her as she'd watched his expression darken. He'd watched over her that night, his consciousness had surrounded her mind. He'd brought his shields down around her like he'd been trying to act as armour. All through the night he'd stayed there, a comfort to her, a blanket. And she'd slept peacefully. And then only two nights later she'd dreamed of her again, despite her shields - despite his.
Now, more than a fortnight had passed and the dreams weren't only becoming more frequent, but also more vivid.
"Do you have any idea who she is?" Loki asked. "Any clues at all?"
He already knew the answer to that question but he felt her desire to talk with him.
She shook her head.
"No... but I know where she is. She's in Norway. She's standing exactly where I..."
"Where you gained your powers."
"Yeah," she whispered.
Loki remained quiet, studying her in the darkness. He waited, knowing she wanted to form some thought into words.
"It's not like I'm there," she told him, her eyes unfocused as if she were still lost in the dream. "I'm not there with her. But she can see me. Or maybe... It's that she knows I can see her. I just- I don't understand why. I don't understand what she wants."
Loki felt the anxiety she was trying to suppress or perhaps was pretending to ignore and he darkened. It didn't matter what the strange woman wanted, she wouldn't get it. She would die for her invasion of Reagan's mind alone, he'd already decided that much.
Reagan was his. She'd only just become his. There was no way he'd allow some witch to steal her away from him. He'd tear the universe apart before letting that happen. The woman would rue the day she ever decided to toy with his mortal.
"You know I won't let any harm come to you," he promised.
Reagan turned towards him and offered him a gentle smile.
"I know," she assured him.
But it had Loki's stomach sinking because he could read her answer for what it was. She didn't think there was anything he could do. He'd tried to shield her mind, they'd tried together - it hadn't mattered. The dreams still came. This woman still found her way to her. And she was afraid, even if she tried to hide it from him.
And so that settled a certain matter for Loki. A path was chosen. An idea he'd been toying with for a few days, unsure he wanted to proceed. He hadn't put voice to it yet. Hadn't told Reagan of the person who might be able to help, because he didn't want to remind her of the darker side of himself. But she was afraid, and she was vulnerable to... whatever this new threat was. And so, it was decided. He'd inform her of his plan in the morning. For now, she needed him.
Loki took in her weary features and even in the darkness Reagan could see the concern on his face.
"It's exhausting worrying about it," Reagan admitted. "I just want to sleep."
"I may have a way to help you relax," Loki replied, pressing another kiss to her shoulder.
Reagan blanched slightly, having spent the better part of the evening pinned to the mattress in some way or another.
"Again?!"
Loki laughed against her skin.
"I'd never deny you that if you thought it would help, but I actually had something else in mind."
"Such as?"
"Well," he tilted his head. "I was hoping to save this in case I was losing an argument. But I do have an enchantment of sorts."
She looked at him slyly. "What does it do?"
"Do you trust me?"
"Of course, I do."
Loki shifted then so that he was facing her, cupping her cheek with his index finger pressing to her temple. Reagan gazed up at him openly, waiting.
"Sleep," he murmured gently, the word laced with magic.
Instantly, Reagan's eyelid fell shut and her muscles went slack. Loki caught her, cradling her head as she lulled against him and gently, he laid her back onto her pillow, now deeply, comfortably asleep.
Loki swept her hair back from her face and drew her blankets up over her shoulders as she curled into the comfort of the soft linens. He brushed his mind against hers and loosed a soft sigh. Her dreams were peaceful and lilting. No sign of the woman, at least for now.
And though Loki lay back and settled in beside her, one arm slinging around her waist to draw her in just a little closer, he didn't close his eyes. Didn't let sleep take him. Instead, he watched over her.
Loki sat reclined in a chair by the window, reading by the muted light of the early morning sunrise. He was bare-chested, wearing only loose pants, with his feet propped up on a cushioned stool.
He glanced at the bed. Reagan's sleeping form was still cuddled up in the soft blankets, one arm slung over the pillow beside her as if she were reaching for him. He smiled softly at the sight.
He'd watched over her through the night. She'd slept undisturbed and he was glad for it. For the past week she'd been making a subtle attempt to avoid sleep, insisting she wasn't tired, that she wanted to stay up into the late hours of the evening to be with him. And a selfish part of him had indulged her for a time because he too wanted her to avoid dreams of the woman.
He prickled at the very thought of her, this woman with her golden eyes and a smile that was almost motherly. She never spoke. Never gave anything away. She only beckoned Reagan to her. Did she know that he was watching too? Is that way she gave nothing away? Not a hint of who she was or how to kill her. The latter being the only part that Loki really cared about.
He was so very bitter at the universe. To have finally been granted something good - to have her with him - knowing that it was already to be something so painfully fleeting, and then to have this threat to it so soon. Of course, something would come to try and rip her away from him.
He'd destroy it.
Whatever this woman was, he'd destroy her.
He wouldn't allow Reagan to be harmed.
He wouldn't allow her to be taken from him.
He wouldn't allow this peace that he found at long last to be disturbed--
"You were saving that for an argument?!" Reagan suddenly exclaimed indignantly as she sat bolt upright in bed, breaking Loki's train of thought.
He didn't even bother to hide his smirk from her.
"Good morning, darling," he drawled, eyes still fixed on his book.
With a grumble under her breath, she climbed out of bed and shrugged on a silken robe she'd had hanging nearby then padded towards him, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Loki shifted his arms, allowing space for her as she climbed into his lap, curling into the warmth of him. His arms encircled her and he pressed a slow kiss to her temple.
They sat there, curled around each other in comfortable silence. Loki read his book while Reagan listened to the sound of his pulse beating steadily beneath her head where it rested against his shoulder.
"It helped," she told him eventually. "Thank you."
"I'm glad."
"I didn't dream about her."
"I know," Loki murmured. "I was watching."
She stiffened slightly against him.
"Oh. So, you saw the..."
He smirked. "I did indeed."
"I can explain."
"There's no need for that. I've grown rather accustomed to your strange little mortal dreams. And it's hardly the first oddity I've come across in that head of yours."
She laughed softly at that before she lifted her head to look at him.
"I've been thinking," she said softly. "About how it feels. The dream... I don't think she wants to hurt me."
Loki's stomach clenched terribly at that. He didn't want her afraid - it was the last thing he wanted - but he also loathed the idea of Reagan falling for whatever game the woman was playing with her.
"She may want you to think that," he told her steadily. "Just because she hasn't made an attempt yet, doesn't mean that she won't."
"No, I know," she assured him. "I'm still... worried. I just- whatever she wants, I don't think she wants to hurt me. It's more like... like she wants to tell me something. Or- or maybe she needs my help or-"
"Reagan," Loki interjected gently. "Please, don't allow yourself room to trust her. She's dangerous. To surpass either of our shields..."
He swallowed. There was something in her that gave her the ability to see past the worst in people, to look for what could be hidden deeper. She'd been able to forgive him for the worst parts of himself. Perhaps it was because she'd longed for that herself since her disaster in Norway, but Loki suspected it was something far more innate than that. It was just something she was made of. And that gentleness in her, he treasured it. Needed it.
Because if she didn't possess it, well, Loki certainly would have her there wrapped up in his arms at that moment. This capacity for forgiveness, empathy, understanding. Hope. It made her a far better person than he could ever hope to be.
But it also left her vulnerable.
And if the woman knew that, it was something she could use. Twist. Manipulate.
"I'm not trusting her," she assured him, watching the dark cloud form in him. "I promise. I'm just... whatever she wants, I don't think she's going to hurt me."
Loki's jaw tightened even as he nodded. He didn't want this to turn into a fight. But this is how it could start. So easily, this could be the crack - the window - that the woman was waiting for. A way to gain better access.
"For now... for me," he pleaded softly, "Please, just act as if harming you is her only motive. Just until we learn more."
She studied him, the very sight of that vaguely concealed worry in his eyes made her chest ache.
"I need you safe," he murmured.
"Okay," she conceded with a gentle nod. "For you."
He breathed his relief.
"Thank you."
Reagan smiled a little then.
"You know, certain people did try to warn me against trusting you, and that worked out alright," she teased as if reading the thought he'd had just a few moments ago. And perhaps she had.
"A perfect example that you probably should have listened to," he rebutted. "You haven't even noticed yet that I've kidnapped you away with no intention of ever giving you back."
"Wow, how embarrassing for you that you think you're the one doing the kidnapping. Do you have any idea what kind of ransom I could get for a Prince? Soon I'm going to be able to buy diamonds just to decorate my other diamonds."
"Ah, is that what you're supposed to do?" Loki mused. "How foolish I've been with my wealth."
"I've always thought so."
The pair smiled at one another before Loki's demeanour shifted once again into something more sombre.
"I've been thinking it over and there's someone who I'd like to take you to meet with," he murmured, the words tasting bitter on his tongue even as he forced himself to voice them. "Someone from my past who has a... complex relationship with magic. She can wield it in a way that few others can. She may be able to shed some light upon how to deal with this intruder of yours."
"Who is she?"
"A woman called Asta. She's an old acquaintance. We became familiar at the time that I was delving into dark magic. I merely dabbled by comparison to the treacherous path she took, and she's suffered consequences for that. However, it has left her with particular abilities. Affinities that may be advantageous to us now."
Reagan nodded, taking in the information.
"An acquaintance," she repeated. "Not a friend?"
A short laugh escaped him.
"Far from it, actually."
"But you trust her."
"Not at all. Not even a little. But I have something that she wants so she'll be interested in doing business. And I know that she'll deliver what I ask of her as she owes me a rather significant debt."
"Why?"
"Because I killed her sister."
Reagan stilled, her lips parted in surprise.
"Oh," she breathed.
Loki's eyes met hers, and a conflict of emotions shifted through the bond. He readied himself. For her disgust, her disdain. It didn't come.
"Thank you for being honest with me," she said earnestly.
Loki almost crumbled under her gaze.
"Thank you for not running away," he murmured sincerely.
Her face softened and she reached up to card her fingers through his hair.
"You can stop waiting for that to happen, you know," Reagan said. "I've told you I've made my mind up."
It was so easy - too easy - for her to shatter him into pieces.
She accepted him. All of him. Not just the parts she liked the most. It was something he still found difficult to accept as truth. And where he intended to take her, the people she'd meet, the light in which she'd see him. He very well may have to put that to the test.
And yet, he was steady. Resolute.
Any price to keep her safe.
"So, how do we find her?" Reagan asked at last.
"It won't be difficult," Loki replied. "She does her bidding at a nearby tavern."
"Her bidding," Reagan grinned. "How ominous."
"We'll go there and announce that I'm in Vanaheim," he went on, his tone somewhat sombre. "Once the word spreads it won't be long before she seeks me out herself."
Reagan faltered a little, it was odd for him to remain so serious when she was trying to play with him.
"What is it?" she asked. "What's wrong?"
Loki's gaze fell. He ran his hand tenderly along her thigh.
"I'm just not overly fond of the idea of taking you to this place. To the people who dwell there. A lot of them are rather... unsavoury."
"You couldn't bring Asta here instead then?"
"No," Loki said adamantly. "No, the less she knows about where we reside - the less she knows about you - the better. Knowledge is a weapon she won't hesitate to wield. Best not to brandish her with anything more than is absolutely necessary."
Reagan nodded her understanding.
"I'm not going to tell her what we are," Loki murmured. "And I'm certainly not going to tell her of the mark. And I know how little you are going to enjoy this request, but please, if we meet with her, remain quiet. Just allow me to take the lead."
She snorted a little.
"You're right, I don't enjoy that request at all."
"Reagan-"
"I promise to try my best," she told him, sincerely.
It was the best Loki could hope for.
The journey to the tavern was far shorter than Reagan had expected. Having been alone in the mountains in Loki's cabin for the past few weeks with only each other as company, it had begun to feel like they were the only two people on the entire planet. But it was only a few hours' journey before the sounds of nature - the rustling of tree branches and songs of wild birds and sweeping winds through forest thickets - were replaced by the sound of townsfolk chattering, the heavy cog of wooden wagons, the braying of mules.
It was a modest-looking town. Crooked little buildings made of cobbled stones with slightly slanting chimneys. The smell of roasting meals wafted through the air, and the shouting of salesmen suggested that some kind of market was taking place. It didn't seem to interest Loki. He steered Reagan around the outskirts of the town, remaining out of sight.
Reagan didn't need the bond to sense the tension coiling in him. It was easy enough to read in the stern set of his jaw, the way his posture was poised and ready as if for a fight, the way he scanned their surroundings with such caution. And while Reagan was usually able to coax him into a better mood when she found him in darkness, today he seemed rather determined to brood.
But still, each time she reached for his hand he took it and gave it a gentle squeeze. And it brought a little comfort to each of them.
Soon, they'd left earshot of the bustling town square and found themselves weaving through a far less inhabited part of the town. The buildings there were older, more decrepit, and appeared far less inhabited. The paths were cracked and uneven, the shrubbery overgrown, the windows were either cracked, boarded or missing entirely, and even out in the open, Reagan could smell mildew.
Only one building in this area of the town appeared to be inhabited at all - though it rather looked like it shouldn't be. The two approached the dilapidated tavern and the sound of idle chatter could be heard from within. The exterior was weathered, decaying. Its roof visibly bowed ominously, as if the weight of a harsh winter could bring it down upon its occupants.
Before pushing the door open, Loki turned back to her once more.
"Stay close to me in here," he murmured and Reagan nodded.
She followed him inside into the muted light of meagre oil lamps. The air was thick with smoke, accompanied by the smell of ale and incense and unwashed bodies. Conversations and raucous laughter swelled from huddles around tables, paired with the heavy thud of pints set down up tables, coins tossed this way and that over lazy wagers, and the slightly off-key music being played by two men with strange instruments in the far corner of the tavern.
There was a thick kind of tension in the atmosphere. As if a brawl could break out at any given moment - and not for the first time that day.
It wasn't lost on Reagan the way those who glanced up from their drinks to find Loki sauntering into the dwellings seemed to freeze - pale, even - as they recognised him. He didn't so much as acknowledge their existence.
Reagan scanned the faces they passed, careful not to make lingering eye contact. These people all carried weapons - so many weapons - though, they were far from soldiers. Sell-swords, perhaps, marauders.
Though she didn't reach for him here, in front of these people, she stayed close to Loki's side as they eyed him cautiously.
Loki surveyed the tavern coolly, once again wearing that calm, disinterested mask he could so easily adorn. Seeing him like this, so dramatically contrasted with the tension she'd seen in him during their journey here, made Reagan realise exactly how vulnerable he'd allowed himself to be around her that morning. She brushed gently against the bond, hoping he'd understand. And though he didn't react outwardly, the brush she received in response spoke volumes.
Soon, Loki's focus seemed to zero in on a certain individual seat alone at a small, round table.
The man was leaned in his chair as if he'd resided there for days, nursing a near-black ale. He was older, and gritty. His facial features, which might have once even been handsome, were interrupted by three deeply gnarled scars, as if something with claws had tried to rip his face off entirely and had very nearly succeeded. And there was something in his hunched posturing that gave off the distinct impression that he desired to be left alone.
Loki slid casually into the empty chair opposite him.
"How many years have passed and you're still festering away in this wretched hole, Taq," he drawled by way of greeting.
The man laughed before he even looked up to meet his eye.
"I've always said if never had to hear that fuckin' voice o' yours again it would still be too soon," he muttered in return.
A lazy smirk spread across Loki's face as he watched the man, not bothering with a retort.
"The fuck are you doing here, Odinson? Last I heard you were causing all manner o' problems in Midgard. Bored o' that already are ya?"
"Yes, well, it all got a little monotonous after a time. It turns out the mortals there are all dreadfully dull creatures."
Reagan rolled her eyes at that even Loki prodded playfully at the bond. She turned away from the table to scan the rest of the bar. She'd been so distracted by the people occupying the tavern that she hadn't noticed upon arrival that the walls of the tavern were actually decorated. There were framed paintings. Strange, shifting images that morphed into something slightly grotesque if she angled her head. She moved towards them to take a closer look as the conversation continued on behind her.
"What do you want, then?" Loki's companion asked, getting straight to business.
"I'm looking for Asta."
"Of course, you are. I should've guessed."
Stay close, Loki's voice sounded in her mind as his conversation continued on behind her.
I will, she replied as she continued to wander idly, inspecting the paintings on the walls.
They seemed innocent enough at first - simple portraits, or landscapes. Depictions of people bustling through a town square. Children playing. But the longer Reagan seemed to gaze at each image, the more they seemed to shift before her eyes. Limbs elongated into something unnatural. Boils seemed to swell, even on plants or pathways. Expressions of joy morphed into silent, open-mouthed groans of anguish. A chill swept down her spine as she moved to each new painting, unable to tear her gaze from them.
Suddenly, a huge, calloused hand caught hold of her arm, breaking her from her trance. It was a large hand, so large it engulfed the majority of her forearm. Reagan stilled and turned to find what was essentially a hulking mass of corded muscles holding onto her. The massive man smiled at her like she were prey. Even seated in his chair he was near to the same height as her. There were three others with him, each equally, shockingly large.
"Hey there, girlie," he drawled. "I ain't seen you around here before."
His voice was impossibly deep and his ever-growing grin revealed rotten, stinking teeth that seemed far too large for his face.
"I'm not from around here," Reagan replied evenly, subtly trying to pull his arm free of his vicelike grasp.
"That right? Well, why don't you come and have a drink with me and the lads? We'll get acquainted."
"No thanks, I'm good."
"Come on, darlin'. Play nice. I got a lovely warm seat for you to sit on," he spread his legs a little wider and pat his lap invitingly.
Reagan made no attempt to hide her disgust.
She glanced around the table at the massive man and his companions. Each of them wore their own sinister grin. It was then that Reagan noticed another individual sitting at the table, squished between two of the gargantuan men was a small slender woman, with skin a pallid shade of blue. Her eyes were wide and watery and she glanced nervously between the two men she'd been sandwiched between. Reagan glanced down at the woman's hands to find they were trembling. Almost hesitantly, the woman looked up at her, feeling her gaze on her.
Their eyes met.
She was petrified.
Slowly, subtly - such a small gesture that Reagan almost missed it - the woman shook her head. And Reagan wondered how was it possible for such a small motion to be so filled with fear.
She fought to hold back the rage that instantly flooded through her. Willed herself to remain calm even as her heart started to thunder, her adrenaline spiking. She stared at the woman for a few more moments, before turning back once more to meet the eye of the beast who was still clutching onto her arm.
"I'm only going to say this once. You're going to take your fucking hand off me," she told him, her voice laced with suppressed anger. "And you're also going to let her go. Now."
The three hulking men at the table laughed at that. The closest to the blue woman slung an arm around her shoulder lazily just to emphasise how ridiculous they'd found the warning. The woman winced.
The grip on Reagan's arm tightened - vice-like, on the verge of painful. Evidently, her new acquaintance didn't like to be told no. Reagan suspected that it wasn't something people - women, rather - often dared to say to him.
"You're a right little feisty one, aren't ya?" he growled as he drew her in towards him. With his free hand, he pulled out a long knife, the sharp edge of it glinting in the low light. "Here's what's going to happen, darlin'. You're gonna sit on my lap like a good little girl and you're gonna have some fun with me. You're gonna grind up on me a little in front of my boys here just for havin' the nerve to speak back to me. And if you don't, I'm going to slice that pretty little face of yours clean off - and your new friend's, for good measure - and I'll take them home as a keepsake while I leave you here screamin' while you bleed out."
Reagan glowered at him.
"What do ya say to that, darlin'?"
"I say it's disappointing but not at all surprising to learn that assholes like you exist on every planet."
"What did you call me?"
"I called you a huge puckering asshole."
The grip on her arm released as the man thrust his chair back and stood to full height. Reagan watched as the thing before her rose taller and taller. He was easily nine feet tall and as broad as three men. He towered over her, his reeking breath stinging her nostrils as he leaned closer to growl a low warning.
"Say that again and see what happens."
She stepped closer to him. Beneath her skin, her fire was raging. It yearned to be set forth like never before.
"Let her go," she defiantly.
"Do you know what I did to the last person who dared to insult me?"
"Did you breathe on them?" she shot back, openly grimacing at the putrid smell.
He snarled in outrage, and just as he was snapping, just as his fingers were flexing to reach for her and attack - just as she was poising herself to summon her flames - another hulking mass blocked his path, snatching his wrist mid-strike and holding him back.
"Dredgryn, stop!" the slightly smaller man warned in a low voice. Reagan wasn't even sure where he had come from. He hadn't been seated at the table with the others. When he spoke again, there was a notable tremor to his words.
"Don't touch her," he warned. "Not that one."
Reagan's would-be attacker looked at the newcomer questioningly, a snarl still adorning his features.
"I saw her come in," he hissed, low and quick. "She's here with the Silvertongue."
It was with mild surprise and immense satisfaction that she watched the colour drain from the massive face before her. His eyes widened as he snapped his attention away from Reagan and directed it to the smaller man standing before him.
"He's back," his companion warned. "I saw him with me own eyes."
"You're certain?"
"He's looking for the Witchling."
Dredgryn swore under his breath.
"We gotta get outta here before he-"
"There you are," Loki's silklike voice sounded behind her, deathly calm.
I distinctly remember warning you to stay close.
I thought I was, relatively.
Reagan had been so caught up in her fury that she'd almost forgotten he was there with her. And now, those three velvety words purred behind her, his presence in her mind - they felt like armour. A smile tugged at her lips.
Not five minutes have passed and already I'm rescuing you from peril. Why am I not surprised?
It's not me you're rescuing, trust me.
The atmosphere in the room shifted entirely, as if a cold snap had occurred, zapping away any source of warmth. Idle background chatter died away as everyone present turned to watch the God of Mischief approach. He moved slowly, his movements graceful, powerful and calculated. And though he moved to stand beside Reagan, his cold gaze was fixed on Dredgryn who made no attempt to conceal his horror.
"Making new friends, I see," Loki said to her, casually.
"Hardly," she muttered.
"Hello, Dredgryn," he said to the creature before them. And though his voice sounded light, it was laced with venom.
"Sir... Sire. We hadn't heard-- what brings you back to Vanaheim?"
"That's of no concern to you."
"Right. My apologies. Of course, not."
"I can't help but notice, Dredgryn," Loki observed, casually, "that you aren't kneeling right now."
Dredgryn instantly fell to his knees before him, and his companions followed suit, practically toppling from their chairs to fall before him.
"Much better."
"Please, sire. We want no trouble."
Loki pulled a rather perplexed face, though his demeanour remained composed. He turned his attention to Reagan, studying her for a moment, and then to the blue woman who was still sitting at the table and who looked - if possible - even more terrified than before.
"That's not how it appeared just a moment ago," Loki said. "In fact, if I didn't know any better, I would have assumed that you and your... associates had fallen back into old habits again."
Each of the creatures kneeling before him seemed to cringe at the implication.
Loki stepped closer to them, leaning over Dredgryn's hulking, cowering form.
"You made two rather fatal mistakes today," he murmured dangerously. "The first was forgetting what I promised to do to you if I ever caught word of you placing an unwanted hand on a woman ever again."
"Please, have mercy."
"The second," Loki went on as he ignored his pleas, "was to touch something that belongs to me."
Fresh horror marred the hulking creature's face as he gaped suddenly - wide-eyed - at Reagan and then at Loki once more.
The pale blue woman looked to Reagan in surprise and when their eyes met, Reagan mouthed a single word; 'go.' The woman nodded, slipping subtly from her chair and scurrying away from the scene without so much as another glance in their direction.
"I- I didn't know. If I had, I would never--"
"Your hands or your tongue," Loki interrupted and straightened upright again. "Which would you prefer to keep?"
"Sire?"
"Chose. Quickly, or I'll take both."
"M-my tongue."
Loki gazed down at him, a cruel smirk spreading across his face. He waved a hand and the air sizzled suddenly with magic.
Dredgryn whimpered in surprise as - as if against his own will - he slammed his right arm down on the ground palm facing upward. He tried to pull back but it was as if some invisible force held him firmly in place. Reagan watched, saw the way he trembled, and wondered how many women he'd made to feel exactly as helpless.
"Good," Loki said calmly. "Now, cut it off."
Dredgryn's head shot up to look at Loki with wide-eyed horror, even as his free hand reached and took hold of his blade, raising it high above his head.
"No! Please! Please!" he shrieked.
"Cut. It. Off."
A sob escaped the massive man, even as he raised the blade high in the air, poising it to strike down on his own limb. And just as he began to bring it down with alarming force, just as Dredgryn released a strangled, horrified cry, just as Reagan flinched away to spare herself the awful sight, Loki spoke once more.
"Stop," he commanded.
Dredgryn froze, the blade edge just millimetres from his flesh.
Loki moved towards him, taking his time, each step measured. He leaned in slowly, closer and closer as Dredgryn cringed away from him, and growled a single word.
"Run."
He didn't need to be told again. Frantically, Dredgryn clambered to his feet, bolting for the door as fast as his massive body could manage it, barging down anyone who stood between him and escaping Loki. His companions didn't dare move, didn't rise from their hands and knees. Loki turned back to look them over, still glowering.
"The rest of you be on your way while I'm still in a merciful mood. You won't be presented with such an opportunity again."
The tavern erupted into chaos as a great many people took the chance to go hurtling towards the nearest exit.
When Reagan turned to face him at last her expression was appropriately stunned. Loki's stomach lurched as he waited for her reaction, seconds passed that seemed to stretch on into an eternity. He sorely wanted to take her hand, to step closer to her and assure her that she was safe, but he kept his distance, praying that he hadn't scared her too much.
To his surprise, her face split into a smile.
Wow. That is some reputation you got there, she teased.
Please... Don't think less of me, his voice was gentle, so vastly different from the mask he wore for the on-lookers.
Reagan drew a step closer to him, eyeing him up and down.
Can I be honest with you?
Always.
I have never been so turned on in my entire life, she told him.
His brows shot upward in surprise. He studied her, and a slow, wolf-like grin spread across his features.
Is that so?
Any chance you're going to scare off the rest of them so that we can have this place to ourselves?
It would have been my first course of action if I'd known it was going to have this effect on you.
Loki brushed his knuckles against her jawline and grinned down at her as she leaned into his touch.
Get to it then, Silvertongue.
Oh... you're certainly going to have to call me that more often.
And much to Reagan's dismay, just as Loki leaned in closer to her and his breath fanned over her lips, the moment was interrupted by a lilting, feminine voice sounding behind him.
"Loki Odinson..."
He bristled as he straightened himself up again, all the amusement having totally drained away from his features. He hardened, everything about him grew cold. Watching such a shift him in stole Reagan's breath away slightly.
Tell her nothing, Loki reminded her quickly. Follow my lead.
She nodded.
Loki turned towards the voice, positioning himself directly in front of Reagan as if he might subtly obscure her from view. Reagan moved to peer around his shoulder to find a woman leaning casually against the doorway, arms folded over her chest. She was dressed in aged battle leathers but wore no armour. Her long hair was so blonde it rivalled silver, and she wore it in a mess of braids and leather ties, sweeping back from her face. There was grit on her, though something about her seemed strangely polished. Her gaze was fixed on Loki, one eye midnight black, the other blood-red.
"It's been some time," the woman drawled.
Reagan glanced around the tavern. If she'd thought that onlookers had seemed uneasy at Loki's presence, it was nothing compared to hers. The air hummed with tension - with fear. She could practically smell it, their desire to flee. Yet no one seemed to have the nerve to move from their seats.
"Yes, well, I do endeavour to avoid you whenever possible, Asta," Loki replied in that calm, collected manner of his that Reagan had long since broken down.
"A wise venture, indeed," Asta inclined her head. "Follow me."
She turned on the spot, not bothering to see if Loki did as instructed.
Are you sure about this? Reagan asked as she glanced up at his stern expression.
As soon as he glanced down at her he softened - it was just for a moment, but still she saw it. The tenderness in his eyes as his gaze swept her features. She felt the hum of want down the bond. The want for her. To hold her. To shield her. He gave her the ghost of a smile before his mask slipped back into place, cold, calm and unfeeling.
I'm sure.
Chapter 28
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The floorboards groaned beneath them with every step as they followed Asta into a dimly lit backroom that stank of smoke and turpentine and a cacophony of strange herbs. There was a heavy layer of dust coating everything in the room, and thick cobwebs hung from the beams supporting the crooked ceiling above.
A modest round table sat in the centre of the room, along with three chairs. As if she had known to expect them.
Asta took a seat, a variety of small bones, teeth, rocks and crystals were scattered on the table before her in the only clean patch - it looked as if the dust had been brushed aside with the length of a forearm. She began sorting through the items purposefully, rearranging them, though there was a casual air to her actions. Loki and Reagan rounded to the other side of the table, each taking a seat opposite the woman. She still hadn't spared them another glance.
"So, what brings you to my humble dwellings, Odinson?" she asked as she picked up a particular tooth to inspect it more closely.
"This is Selena," Loki said, gesturing towards Reagan. "She has recently hired me for protection against an entity that has begun to show a malicious interest in her. I intend to make quick work of it. I already have its location."
"So you're here for a gate," Asta said, sounding bored.
"And a tether," Loki replied smoothly.
That seemed to intrigue her. She stilled. Her eyes flicked up to meet his as her eyebrows lifted in surprise.
"A tether," she repeated.
"Two actually," Loki said. "One for each of us."
"And you'll tythe for it."
"That's correct."
Asta studied him quietly for a moment, weighing him. She returned her attention to the macabre collection laid out on the table before her, picking through them as she considered the request. There was something feline in the way that she moved. Loki let the silence hang, he reclined comfortably in his chair as if he had all the time in the world. It was obvious enough that he'd piqued her interest.
"What kind of entity?" Asta asked at last. "What's it doing?"
"For now, it is manifesting in dreams. It takes the form of a woman and it is yet to give an indication of what it desires. However, my client has a great manner of wealth and she's made the rather wise decision to have the matter dealt with before it becomes unmanageable."
Asta looked up again, pure scepticism blooming on her face as she pointed the small bone she was holding at Loki.
"Are you telling me that you're here because you need help scaring away a nightmare?" Her words dripped with incredulity and she didn't so much as spare Reagan a glance.
Loki didn't have to feign his impatience.
"The challenge I've come to face is that whatever this manifestation is, it seems to be able to surpass any cloaking magic I cast upon my client. It doesn't seem to matter what I attempt, it surpasses it with ease. I'm not even able to detect it's coming and going."
The blonde woman gave him a patronising pout.
"Performance issues, Odinson. How terribly embarrassing."
"Hysterical," Loki drawled.
Asta scoffed. She tossed the bone back amongst the scattered collection before her and leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest.
"So this is what you're doing with yourself now?" Asta asked, sounding rather unimpressed. "I don't think I would have pegged you as a ghost-vanquishing sellsword."
"Yes, well, having found myself an enemy to the crown, I've been cut off from my resources. I've had to adapt."
"Oh, I've heard all about your escapades. What you did on Midgard. Not to mention Jotunheim."
Asta at last turned her attention to Reagan, tilting her head to the side as she openly sized her up. The colour of her eyes - midnight black and deeply blood-red - they were so unnatural, so deeply unsettling that a shiver ran up the length of Reagan's spine. She fought the urge to look away - to cringe away from the woman's unnerving stare. Forced herself to hold her eye. The corner of Asta's mouth quirked in amusement as if she sensed it.
"Are you so sure this threat of yours is even real, pet?" she asked Reagan before jutting her chin in Loki's direction. "I wouldn't put it past this one to grift you just for a laugh. How certain are you that it's not him invading your dreams and messing with that pretty little head of yours?"
"Are you questioning my integrity?" Loki shot back in place of Reagan having the chance to answer.
Asta scoffed. "With every breath that I take, Odinson."
He rolled his eyes at her.
"I wouldn't be here offering you a tythe, if I had orchestrated a rouse just to con a woman out of her wealth, Asta, and you well know it. There are far easier ways."
Asta hummed thoughtfully, leaning her forward on the table, resting her weight on her elbows. She weighed his words.
"I suppose that's a fair point," she conceded then cocked her head to the side. "Why are you offering a tythe? All for a nightmare that really has done no harm. It seems peculiar."
"As I said, my resources are cut off and I'm sure it is of no surprise to you that I'm well accustomed to a certain lifestyle. I'm loathe to go without it. This is merely the most efficient route to quickly reattain a level of comfort that is to my standards."
Reagan could feel it, the way he was trying to bait the woman - to throw her off with his own vanity. It didn't seem to be enough to distract her.
"But two tethers," Asta pressed on.
Loki didn't miss a beat.
"Think of it as insurance. My payment is conditional upon my client's survival. Should this being have some kind of hold over Selena after I pass through the gate, it could cause my job to become unnecessarily bothersome," he replied smoothly. "Besides, I can only imagine that if word were to spread of a client meeting an ill fate while under my protection it would do rather unsavoury things to my reputation."
Asta grinned coolly at that.
"Ah, so if I turn you away, I have the opportunity to wound that precious ego of yours."
"I think we both know you'd never turn down this offer. Even for such a delicious temptation."
Evidently agreeing with his point, Asta's smile morphed into a scowl for a moment. Until her eyes fell upon Reagan once again. She seemed to hesitate for just a moment. Reagan stared back at her as those mismatched eyes scanned her up and down as the Witchling turned a thought over in her mind.
"You know that I wouldn't..." she murmured, more to herself than to Loki. "It's interesting that you'd be willing to tythe now, for a client. I've never before been able to make you budge on the matter."
Reagan willed herself to keep her breathing steady as she grew more and more uncomfortable under the woman's gaze.
"Is there something more to this than you're letting on, Odinson? Is there something special between the two of you?"
"You're always so desperate for fresh gossip, aren't you? We have a professional relationship. Nothing more."
"Really? Because that's not what it looked like out there," Asta smirked. "I saw the two of you. You seemed rather close, actually. One might even say... intimate."
"Yes, well, as I said she's paying handsomely. I've seen to it that she's serviced in... whatever capacity she should require to her full satisfaction."
Reagan's gaze snapped his way, slightly horrified. For the first time since entering the room, she reached down the bond.
Loki, ew!
Please, just play along.
And Reagan didn't have to fake her embarrassment as colour flooded her cheeks. She repositioned herself in her seat, uncomfortably, all too aware of Asta's gaze still fixed on her. It seemed enough to satisfy Asta, who now wore a languid smile, thoroughly enjoying Reagan's discomfort.
"I wish I'd known sooner that you were whoring yourself out, Odinson. I would have paid handsomely to have you in my bed."
Loki scoffed.
"Still trying to orchestrate opportunities to slit my throat, Asta? It's rather pathetic how predictable you are."
Asta's smarmy smile morphed into something akin to a snarl.
"You killed my sister," she reminded him, her voice suddenly low and dangerous.
The woman conjured a blade then. Her grip on the hilt was so tight her knuckles glowed white through her skin as she stabbed the blade into the table and glared at Loki. He remained unphased.
"You begged me to," he simply rebutted impatiently. It seemed the settle her, if only a little.
"Even so, I will never forgive you," she told him evenly, as she pulled the knife free from the wooden surface. "And I will take your life someday as recompense."
Reagan's eyes widened slightly and Loki caught it, though he didn't react outwardly.
Are you alright? Loki's voice sounded in Reagan's mind once again.
Are you kidding? I wish I had popcorn.
And she was almost certain she saw the corner of his mouth twitch for want of a smile.
"Yes well, in the meantime, are we going to make a deal or not?"
The Witchling leaned her elbows on the table, drawing herself forward as she eyed the Prince.
"Fifty," she said.
Loki scoffed.
"Ten."
"Twenty-five."
"Ten."
"Sixteen."
"Ten."
She scowled at him and leaned back in her chair, dissatisfied but defeated.
"Fine, so be it. You stubborn, bastard." Casually, she then pointed her knife at Reagan. "And you?"
"Not her," Loki cut in, waving a dismissive hand. "She's paid me to make the tythe in her place. Part of the full package service. Besides she's mortal, they'd be of little use to you."
"Everyone pays. No exceptions." Asta sneered at him before reaching out across the table with her open palm facing upwards before Reagan. "Come, my lovely. Let me feel you."
Reagan moved to obey, thinking nothing of it. But before she so much as extended her fingers, Loki had surged forward to place himself between them.
"No," Loki cut her off sharply, holding a firm, protective hand over Reagan's forearm so that she wouldn't reach for the Witchling.
The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly.
Asta drew back slightly as she survey the pair.
She glanced at Reagan, eyeing her up and down once more before her gaze returned to Loki again. Her mouth parted slightly, forming a soft O before it shifted slowly into a knowing smile. Slowly, Loki withdrew his hand, settling back into his chair as he glared daggers at the woman.
"Not her," Loki repeated once more, deathly calm.
"Odinson," Asta cooed, "I never thought I'd see the day... and a mortal no less."
Loki glowered wordlessly across the table at the woman, his jaw twitching with suppressed rage. Reagan glanced at him, uncertain. She could feel the force of his growing fury as magical energy began to pulse from him. And Asta seemed entirely unconcerned.
"How sweet, you tried to lie to me," she grinned. "It's quite the honour that you'd bring your paramour to me for protection even if it were under a false guise. Though, I am a little offended that you didn't introduce us properly."
Loki?
I shouldn't have brought you with me. It was foolish.
Whatever she wants, I can help--
No, he shut her down firmly. And don't dare make that offer to her aloud.
"What's your real name then, pet?"
Reagan hesitated for a moment, only speaking when Loki gave a small, stiff nod.
"Reagan."
It was all she said.
"Reagan," Asta purred the name as if she were speaking to a lover. "And this beastie tormenting you in your sleep, did your beau give me the truth of that?"
Reagan considered for a moment before nodding. "I can't keep her out. I don't know what she wants."
Asta hummed her understanding.
"And you don't want her to make a tythe," Asta mused, turning her attention back to Loki looking rather smug. "However shall we work our way around that?"
She gazed at Loki with a calm smirk playing on her features, watching him as she waited.
Loki was seething, Reagan could feel it down the bond. And her presence seemed to do little to comfort him. She wanted so desperately to reach for him, but she wouldn't - not in front of this woman. Not when Loki was using every ounce of self-control that he possessed not to launch himself across the table and slit the woman's throat.
"Fifty," Loki relented then in a growl.
"One hundred," Asta countered.
Rage-fuelled power pulsated off of him in response, darkening the room. And even as it did, the colour drained ever so slightly from his face. Whatever this bidding war was, he'd lost the upper hand. The sight of it caused Reagan's stomach to lurch with dread.
The Witchling's grin was feline.
"Go to Hel, Asta," Loki spat.
She only laughed.
"Fifty," she conceded at last, though her gaze settled on Reagan once more.
She tilted her head, openly curious. She extended a hand to Loki and waited.
"Take it or leave it."
Loki scowled as he reached forward and clasped her hand in his. White light sizzled up their forearms, and Loki snatched his hand away the instant it faded. He leaned back in his seat, glowering at the woman who sat opposite him.
"Wonderful," Asta simply sighed. "Wait here. I'll need but a moment to prepare."
She rose from her seat and exited the room, humming an infuriatingly cheerful tune to herself as she went. And even as power continued to roil out of Loki in his rage, she didn't so much as spare a glance back in his direction. She was totally and completely unafraid to turn her back on him.
The moment the door shut behind her, Loki drew in a steadying breath. He closed his eyes and quelled his magic as he tried to calm himself.
A heavy silence hung in the air. Reagan watched him - waiting for him to turn to her, to speak to her - anything. Her gut clenched once again as she studied his profile, and the way he seemed determined not to meet her eye. She hadn't seen his face look like that in so very long. Worry slowly began to bloom within her. Something terrible had just happened.
"Loki," she murmured, and she didn't miss the way he tensed. "Fifty what?"
His jaw tightened, he still would not meet her eye.
"Years," he replied at last.
Reagan's brow furrowed as she watched him, the way his jaw set. And a sickened sort of dread began taking over her.
"What do you mean years?" she pressed, shaking her head. "Years of service?"
"No," he breathed low, keeping himself steady. "Asta's workings with dark magic have left her cursed with half-life. She's dying. And undying. Perpetually. The magic is burning up her lifeforce. It is of her now. Whether she uses it or not, it will consume her. And when it's done she'll be a... the best way to describe it is a magical black hole. Forever collapsing in on herself. Unable to escape. Unable to truly die. It is a fate like no other. She relies on trades of dark magic in exchange for lifeforce to prolong the inevitable. But even that, she burns through all too quickly. A mortal year would last her a manner of days. But one of mine... She'll get a few months, perhaps more if she's careful."
The colour began to drain from Reagan's face.
"So... you're telling me that I just watched you hand over..."
"Fifty years from my lifespan," Loki confirmed. "In exchange for her help."
There was a beat of silence.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Reagan exclaimed.
She stood suddenly from her chair, the legs screeched ear-splittingly against the floor.
"Reagan, calm down," Loki began, standing to reach for her.
"We're leaving," she told him firmly, adamantly.
Her heart was already racing in her chest and her hands began to tremble as panic and adrenaline surged through her. Her eyes seemed to searching wildly for an escape of their own accord. They needed to go. She needed to get him out of there.
Loki took a gentle hold of her shoulders, anchoring her, drawing her attention to him. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at him, still wild with panic.
"Darling," his voice was so calm - so contrasted to how she felt. "We're not leaving."
"Yes, we are." Reagan insisted. "Right now. We're not doing this. You're not doing this. Let's go."
"Reagan..."
"Loki, please. I want to leave. Now."
He hesitated then, hating the desperation in her voice. Her distress flooded down the bond. Strong enough to cause his resolve to waver. He tried to soothe the bond but she was too panicked for him to have any effect. Loki moved to touch her face - to comfort her - when the Witchling reentered the room and his hands instead fell away. The woman already knew too much.
"Is there a problem?" Asta asked innocently, her voice smooth.
Reagan rounded on her instantly, glaring. Her panic quickly shifted into outrage.
"The deal's off," she told the woman firmly.
Asta laughed dismissively.
"I'm afraid that's not possible," she told her calmly. "All agreements are final."
"Not this one."
"The magic's already been bound, pet."
"Then unbind it."
The Witchling tilted her head, clearly amused by this little mortal and her boldness.
"Or what?" Asta asked, baiting her. "What will you do about it?"
Reagan, Loki warned behind her. She's more powerful than you can ever begin to imagine. I beg you not to provoke her.
She turned back to glare at him as if he had any right to ask that of her now.
You should have told me, she shot at him. If I had known what she'd want to take, I never would have agreed to come here.
I know, he responded gently - too gently. Which is exactly why I didn't tell you.
Reagan's eyes widened in disbelief and she didn't hide her hurt from him. She let it flow freely down the bond. She watched as he tried to conceal his wince as he felt it. He'd kept something so important from her on purpose. He'd assured her that this was the best course of action. He'd made it sound like he would be in control - that he could manipulate the Witchling into doing what he wanted.
I have something that she wants, he had told her. She'd never have imagined - could never have imagined - that it would be this.
She shook her head at him.
"We're not doing this," she told him once more. "I don't want it."
Loki moved towards her slowly, cautiously, his brows drawn together as he watched her. She could feel the way he willed her to stay, to let him reach for her. To allow him just to be near her. And this time, part of her didn't want to. She wanted to bat his hand away in anger. She wanted to force him from the room.
Reagan, I'm sorry, his voice - his presence - was so painfully gentle in her mind, and that seemed to only add to her hurt. But I'm afraid there's nothing you can do. The deal has been made.
Do you think I won't burn this place to the ground to put a stop to this? Because I will.
And to her surprise, Loki smiled down at her just a little. Soft and warm and adoring.
Stop that, she told him firmly.
Forgive me, I just... I don't think I'll ever tire of this feeling.
Me wanting to kill you?
You caring, he responded simply.
His words caused her throat to tighten. She hadn't expected such tenderness from him amid her rage, and it was so hard not to waver when he looked at her like that. Like she was... precious. Like he truly believed it was worth it - to give something like that so freely for her sake. Just to ensure that he could keep her with him a moment more. She hated that she could still feel the doubt in him - that he still couldn't quite believe she'd found it in herself to love him. That it was some gift that deep down, he didn't think he was worthy of.
When the only thing that she couldn't quite believe herself, was that there was ever a time that she wouldn't have burned the world down for him.
And that thought alone brought her resolution as she drank in his features. It quelled her panic. Though her anger stayed. She'd burn the world down for him. She wasn't going to let this stupid fucking idiot who had come to mean more to her than she'd ever thought possible just throw his life away because he was afraid of losing her.
He was trying to fight for her, completely oblivious to the fact that she would do the same for him.
Whether he knew it or not, he needed her to protect him now. Even if it were from himself.
Reagan rounded on Asta, a newfound calm settling over her.
"Undo it right now," she told her evenly. "Or I'll kill you."
And for the first time, the Witchling looked a little unamused by something this mortal had said to her.
"Reagan--"
"You should know that I don't appreciate threats, pet. Your lover has done you a disservice if he did not warn you to tread carefully when speaking to me," Asta told her.
Reagan ignored the warning and stepped closer to the Witchling.
"Yeah well, he didn't warn you about me either."
Behind her, Reagan felt the crackle of Loki's magic once again awakening as he moved closer to her, readying himself. To intercede. To protect her. To face the Witchling. She wasn't quite sure. It didn't matter to her in that moment. Her fire prickled in her veins, desperate to be set free. The tension coursing through the bond was near stifling as silently, Loki willed her to back down.
She stood firm.
And even as Asta studied the little display of power, and gave them just a taste of her own in response - a drop of ink in an ocean that felt like it could blister Reagan's skin and shatter her bones in sharded dust and melt her mind and end all that she was, still she stood firm.
Asta raised an eyebrow, just a little surprised. And that infuriating smile returned to her face.
"She has fire in her," Asta said, perhaps even sounding just a little impressed that a mortal would not recoil from the display.
"You don't know the half of it," Reagan said calmly and let her flames ignite.
Surprise flashed across the other woman's features for only a moment before she threw her head back and loosed an elated laugh. She drank in the sight of the flames with a delighted grin, the scorching heat almost unbearable at such close proximity. But she didn't shy away from it.
"Oh, Loki," Asta purred, her eyes still fixed on Reagan. "I like her."
"He's taking back the deal," Reagan said again, with finality.
"Reagan," Loki's voice was so pained that it cause her to hesitate. She turned to face him to find his expression open - that mask she'd learned to see past having completely fallen away. "I'm not taking it back."
He reached for her hand as if she weren't made of fire and he of frost. She quelled the flames there before his fingers even had a chance to brush her skin but she knew if she hadn't he would have allowed himself to burn, just to touch her.
Whatever this is, I need you safe from it, he told her desperately.
"We will figure something out," she insisted, struggling to keep her voice even as she quelled the rest of her flames.
"This is us figuring something out." He was calm. So very, very calm.
"Something else."
"There is nothing else."
"Of course, there is," Reagan insisted. "What even is this?! What are we doing here? You told me this morning that you knew someone who could help us and now I'm just watching you trade your life away to some crazy fucking vampire-leech woman when we don't even know if this dream I'm having is dangerous. Seriously. What are you doing?"
You can't possibly comprehend the years I can afford by comparison to you.
Oh, so now you're calling me stupid?
I'm calling you mortal, he said gently. Reagan, I'm trading a moment. A heartbeat.
She huffed, so frustrated that she couldn't manage to get through to him when it mattered most - that she couldn't get him to see reason.
"You're being reckless," she told him adamantly, she voice tremoring with suppressed emotion. "I don't care how much time you think you have to spare. You can't just- just throw it away like that. I think it's you who doesn't understand the value of fifty years."
Loki breathed out a small laugh in response, not bothering to hide his pained smile, not even from the Witchling. He cupped Reagan's face tenderly, his expression fracturing.
Darling, I understand better than anyone.
She stilled, a lump forming suddenly in her throat as comprehension washed through her.
"Is that what this is?" she murmured, as she brought her hand up to settle on his wrist.
The truth of it is I'd trade a thousand more to know that you were safe.
"Don't say that."
I won't risk losing you prematurely. I-- I can't. I already have so little time with you.
Reagan couldn't stop her chin from dimpling as she took in the pain in his features. She shook her head just a little.
That's not fair.
It's no one's fault, he answered gently. But it's true.
We don't even know what she wants, Reagan tried once more. She hasn't even tried to hurt me.
She will.
You don't know that.
But darling, I do.
How?
Because... You've never done anything wrong. Reagan, she's not here because of you... She can only be here because of me. I've made so many enemies. There are so many people who have waited - plotted - tried to find a way to hurt me. To find a weakness. One of them is standing not eight feet from us. Someone - something - has learned about you. And I won't let it have you.
Reagan dropped his gaze for a moment, unsure of how to respond to that. It didn't matter. Didn't he understand that? It didn't matter how, or why, or what. She couldn't stand for him to barter his life away for her. She couldn't live with the knowing of it.
"Oh, this is precious," Asta murmured as she studied their silent exchange. "She actually loves you, doesn't she? She can't know you very well, then. Though, it is rather sweet watching the two of you - the lingering gazes, the gentle, sensual touches. And the telepathy! That's rather fun, isn't it?"
Loki and Reagan each turned to scowl at Asta and her condescending tone which only seemed to amuse her all the more.
She moved towards Reagan, head held high, a grin plastered across her features.
"I'll make you a deal," Asta told her. "Just to ease your distress, I'll take the original ten years promised. But I want five of his." Asta grinned. "And five of yours."
"Done," Reagan answered before she had time to even think on it.
"No!"
Reagan shot her hand out to clutch Asta's before Loki had the chance to intercede and white-hot energy crackled up her limb as the magic set into place, stealing the air from Reagan's lungs.
She fought to catch her breath, to remain upright as the force of the magic threatened to send her knees buckling.
Behind her Loki was silent. The bond was silent. And when Reagan turned shakily to face him - forced herself to look him in the eye - the betrayal she found there was almost enough to break her. She could see it in him, the way he was fighting his desire to scream at her as she stared back at him defiantly. She almost wished he would let it out. She almost wished he would say something ugly and cruel. It would have been better than that look.
But he didn't direct his rage at her.
Loki rounded instead upon Asta.
"I'll kill you for this," he promised, with venom in his voice.
Her grin grew all the more terrible.
"You can do whatever you like. It won't buy her back even a single second. I've always wanted to take something that mattered to you, Loki. Now, at last, I have."
The room darkened around them.
"How many years do you suppose she has left now, Odinson?" Asta mused, baiting him. "Fifty... forty-nine... forty-eight..."
"Stop it," Reagan said through clenched teeth.
Her stomach churned as Loki glared at the Witchling.
"Less if sickness takes her," Asta continued. "That's common in mortals, is it not? You may only have twenty... nineteen... eighteen... Oh, Loki, what if it were only five? What if she has only months left... Days..."
Rage like nothing she'd ever felt before began to boil down the bond, and Reagan had to fight not to recoil from it.
He'd grown to be so gentle with her, so caring, so good. It was so easy to forget he was also capable of unfathomable wrath.
Yet even as his suffocating darkness filled the room, the Witchling looked unphased.
And Reagan reached for him then, a gentle hand on his forearm, drawing him back. It was too late. It was done, and Loki had lost. And Reagan hated herself, just a little for it. Because maybe this way, she was beginning to see, she'd taken more from him than Asta could ever have dreamed of. And when she tried to blanket the bond in her love, and she felt it sting him, she knew that she was right.
Loki, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry... But I'm here, she assured him. I'm here now.
Loki's eyes fell shut for a moment as he lowered his head. He nodded slowly and battled his rage and his sorrow back down, caging them, allowing his soulmate's hand to anchor him. He turned towards her slowly, leaning towards her touch even as the anger he felt towards her remained.
I'm here.
Behind them, Asta laughed.
"Loki Odinson, in love. I always imagined that it would be a sight to behold."
Reagan turned to glower at her for a moment but this time she didn't release her grip on Loki, who was still fighting to control himself beside her. She held on firmly to his forearm and remained by his side.
I'm here.
"Tell me how this works," Reagan said to the woman. "What's a tether? What does it do?"
Fresh tension coiled up the muscles in Loki's arm and she held onto it, reassuringly.
"In exchange for the tythe, your life is bonded to mine," Asta explained. "It's temporary, pet," she added, seeing the way Reagan seemed to pale at the idea. "I am undying, my magic is undying and while tethering your life to my own you too are undying until I release you. No harm can to you."
"How can you be so sure?"
"It would take an age to explain to you the darker workings of the universe, pet. And tethering is already in place. Best not to waste it explaining concepts that are beyond your understanding anyway. But rest assured, you are hardly my first customer. I can promise you, there is no force you could face that could do you harm whilst we are bonded."
"How long?"
"I can give you two hours. Immune from harm. Two. No more, no less."
"That should be all I need," Loki growled at last.
"And a gate?" Reagan asked. "Is it what it sounds like?"
"I can slip you through the pockets of reality. And while the tether holds I can also draw you back."
"So when we pass through this gate-"
"You needn't worry about that," Loki interjected somewhat dismissively, quite obviously still furious at her. "You're not coming."
Reagan closed her eyes for just a moment, willing herself to stay calm. She released her grip on his arm, stepping back to get a better look at him. Not at all surprised to be met with his glower.
"I'm sorry, what did you just say?"
"It's safest if you stay here," Loki told her, his voice somewhat cold.
She stared at him in utter disbelief.
"What, so you expect me to wait here patiently, while you and the woman who just threatened to kill you are going to go face this supposed monster you're so worried about and I just have to hope it goes well and that you'll come back?"
"Ha! I'm certainly not going anywhere," Asta scoffed.
Reagan's head swung in the Witchling's direction and then back to Loki.
"I'm not taking her either," he confirmed. "I'm going alone."
"Alone," Reagan repeated.
"That's right."
"Did you enter some kind of stupid decisions competition this morning that you've forgotten to tell me about?"
Loki shot her an impatient look. He opened his mouth, but before he had the chance to speak, Reagan turned to Asta.
"Would you give us a minute, please?"
Asta's eyebrows drew up in surprise and she snorted a little as she stood once again from her seat.
"I set three places at my table this morning," she said, as she moved to leave the room, "because I sensed my day would be filled with death threats and lovers' quarrels. I never would have dreamed Loki Odinson would be the source of both."
She turned the handle and turn back to the pair once more.
"Do try to be quick, remember the tether has been forged. You're working on borrowed time now."
The instant the door latched shut behind the Witchling, Loki rounded on Reagan and exploded.
"You swore to me that you would follow my lead!" he snapped at her.
"I said I'd try and your lead nearly lost you fifty years of your life!"
"And that would have been better, Reagan. Have you done the math or are you simply incapable? Relatively, you've traded more of your lifespan than I had."
"If you had just told me what was happening then we never would have--"
"Exactly!" Loki cut her off. "We never would have-- we wouldn't have the means to save you from-"
"From what, Loki? Huh? We have no idea what's causing these dreams and you were still just going to hand over your life for nothing."
"Not nothing," Loki glowered at her. "For you. Don't you see that I am trying to fix this for you, and yet you insist upon standing in my way."
"I don't want you to fix this for me, Loki!" she shouted, and it caused him to pause. "I don't want you to make it your burden instead of mine. I just want you with me, while we figure it out together."
Silence hung between them as they stared at one another. It was so much harder with the bond open, it felt like a live nerve strained between them and ready to snap. Because there was so much anger there, and fear, and concern. But their love hummed there too, and that was perhaps the hardest part to endure. The knowledge that each would sacrifice for the other, and how they both needed the other not to do so. And neither could help but to grow just a little tenderer with the other. They both sunk into all of those emotions for a moment and when Loki spoke again, a calm had settled between them.
"I'm trying to shield you," he said gently.
Reagan's heart ached in her chest and she moved towards him, taking his hand in hers.
"I don't want you to be a shield..." she murmured. "That's not what you are to me, okay? And I would never just choose a quick fix for whatever this is - for anything - if any piece of you is the price I'd have to pay for it. Do you understand me? I don't want you to fix it, Loki... I just want you."
It was so much - too much - and Reagan could feel the way he wanted to retreat from it. It was such a foreign experience for him - someone else putting him first. Willingly. Asking nothing of him in return.
"Reagan, I need to go. I have to act," he told her then, swallowing thickly. "We are wasting time we can't afford."
"No, we're not. This is important and you're going to listen to me," she said. "It can't work like this."
"What can't?"
"You and me."
He looked at her then, confused. And Reagan saw the fear flash through his eyes. She rested her free hand reassuringly on his chest, drawing closer to him. His very scent was such a comfort.
"You can't ask me to stand by and let you throw yourself into danger just so you can keep me safe. I'm not going to do it. I can't, Loki. I can't watch you sacrifice yourself. You know that I know everything you've been through. You've already faced too much. You've been in too much pain. You've been too alone. And I can't stand it. Please don't ask me to just stand aside a let you add to it for my sake. Please don't do that to me."
Loki fell quiet for a moment as he weighed her words. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze and he ran his thumb over her knuckles. That small, simple gesture soothed something in her soul.
"And what would you have me do instead?" he murmured at last, true vulnerability in his voice.
She offered him a small, sympathetic smile.
"I don't want you to be a shield," she told him once more. "Just stand beside me, rather than in front of me. That's all... Okay?"
Loki loosed a long, slow breath. It was such a painfully simple request. But to do it. To give her that was something else entirely. And Reagan knew that was she was asking of him was enormous. But if what he said earlier were true, if there were enemies out there that would try to take her from him - if this was something they'd have to come up against again and again - then it couldn't be any other way. It couldn't be anything other than the two of them side by side.
At last, Loki nodded.
"You'll need to be patient with me," he pleaded, softly.
And finally that drew a genuine smile to her lips.
"Well, lucky for us when it comes to that department I've managed to get some practice in."
He breathed out a small laugh.
"I just-- you must understand... Reagan, I need you."
Her heart almost cracked open in her chest.
"Loki," she whispered. "I need you, too."
He took hold of her then and kissed her as though he'd never had the chance to before - like he'd been starved of her for a thousand years. Reagan reached up and tenderly cupped his face as she kissed him back desperately. Her fingers were wet, and she was certain if was Loki who shed the tear or if it were her own. His arms were wrapped around her and the bond glowed bright with utter adoration, enough to smother out the rest of it, if only for a few precious moments.
When they broke apart once more, Loki's eyes met hers and relief washed through her when she found a newly forged calmness there.
"Together," she murmured. "We going together. We're going to figure it out together... Alright?"
Loki nodded as he brushed her hair back behind her ear - ran his fingertips along the curve of her jaw, drinking in the sight of her.
"Alright," he relented in a whisper.
Loki pressed his lips to Reagan's once more before calling in the Witchling.
High above Vanaheim, well outside of the planet's atmosphere, a ship hung in the vacuum of space. Black and sleek and unthinkably massive. It loomed over the planet, silent and in wait, like a creature from the depths of the ocean that was all too aware it was only a manner of time before its prey stumbled into its path.
It would cause a great deal of distress when the monitors down on the planet below finally detected. Because by then it would be too late. Warriors would take up their weapons. Gunships would take to the sky. Children would be hidden away in a desperate, hopeless panic. The planet would ready for a war that it could not win.
But mercifully - for most - the creatures aboard the craft weren't there to kill or destroy or desolate a population.
Not this day.
They came in search of something far more valuable to them. Something sacred.
Aboard the ship, within its control room, a screen glowed to life with a single message.
Alert the Mother. A pairing has been located.
Notes:
*Dun, dun, dun!*
More coming soon! Updates might get just a *little* sluggish for a few weeks because I'm moving at the moment. But I literally think about this story more than I do my actual life so they won't be too far apart.
Love you!
Chapter 29
Notes:
Ya gal's back! Thank you for your patience and thank you to those who reached out to check if I was okay. You're so so sweet.
Not so fun fact: moving SUCKS. 0/10 - would not recommend.
Getting settled in now though so I'm REALLY hoping my next update will be faster.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The deal had been made and the magic had been cast, and Asta sent the Prince of Asgard and his mortal through an impossible opening in the universe towards dangers unknown, leaving Asta to sit alone in the back rooms of a half-rotted tavern with nothing to do but wait.
And to stew over the very existence of Loki fucking Odinson.
Oh, how she loathed him.
How she rued the day he ever stepped foot into her life.
From the moment she'd met him her life had been turned on its head.
Broken.
Ruined.
She'd never forgive him for it.
She'd never forgive him for killing her sister.
She'd never forgive the fact that she had known he hadn't really wanted to.
And now, she'd never be able to forgive him for falling in love with someone who wasn't her.
She'd found dark magic long before he had, it had changed her - twisted her - into something other. But still, he'd also felt its allure. He'd been drawn to it. And for once, there was someone out there who wasn't afraid of her. Who didn't flinch at the sight of her. And for so long she'd told herself they'd be nothing more than they were - acquaintances who barely tolerated one another, who refrained from slitting each other's throats.
It was enough for her.
To be tolerated by him. Even if his distaste for her was thinly veiled, it had been enough.
Because she had convinced herself that he was capable of nothing more.
But this mortal of his...
Just the way he looked at her was enough to turn Asta's stomach.
Even when he'd been attempting the rouse that he cared nothing for her. His manner had been indifferent, but his eyes... he couldn't even spare her a fleeting glance that didn't hum with adoration.
And the mortal, she'd looked at him the same. That secret little exchange Asta had bared witness to - how tender they had been with one another, even in their anger. The mortal - Reagan - she'd looked at him... gently. Like she knew the very core of him. Like she loved him.
That look in her eyes. It's all Asta could think about. She wanted to see it again - had to see it again. It would drive her to insanity if she didn't.
Luckily, Asta was not in the business of resisting her own whims. The atmosphere sizzled around her as she conjured her magic and summoned from the darkness exactly what she desired. It took form before her slowly. A shapeless, translucent blackness soon grew and stretched and shifted - a spine erected, raising the mass, and slender limbs took form, and facial features bloomed to life - until a carbon copy of the mortal stood before her. She was made of dark magic, her skin translucent and a cold hue that contrasted with the warm light of the candles strewn about the room, but still, it was her. As near as anyone could possibly conjure.
She stood totally immobile.
Asta moved closer to the newly formed being, circled her, inspected her features. Their faces were mere inches apart.
"Look at me," Asta commanded.
The replica obeyed.
Her eyes found Asta's - vacant, emotionless, translucent. Asta cupped her face, she ran her thumb over the swell of her cheekbone.
"Look at me like she looked at him," she whispered.
And she watched, sickened, as those lifeless eyes then filled with warmth and affection, and a soft, secret, barely-there smile tugged gently at her lips. She inclined her head ever so slightly as she gazed at Asta. Adoring.
Asta wanted to slap her.
With a feather-light touch, she brushed a few stray hairs out of the mortal's face then trailed her fingertips along her jawline, down her nose, along her lips. She lingered there, at the crease of the girl's mouth, pressing down on her bottom lip just hard enough to force them to part softly, as if any moment she would dip her finger into her mouth and force her to taste her. And this shadow of the girl allowed it, her gaze obediently - warmly - fixed upon Asta, just as she had been commanded to do.
Asta stared back at her.
There was no denying she was a beauty. But she'd hardly believe that beauty alone was enough to turn the head of Loki Odinson. So what was it then? What was so special about her that she had stolen the Prince's heart?
Was it that she wore her affection for him so openly?
No. Surely, it couldn't be so simple a thing.
After all, she'd be far from the first woman to openly lust after an Asgardian Prince.
Asta had wanted sorely to sneer at the girl. To call her a fool. To tell her that she'd known the Prince an age and that Loki Odinson wasn't built for love - for something deep.
For something that endured.
But the sound he'd made when she'd stolen those five little years from the mortal. It was enough to make a more fragile kind of heart weep.
He loved her. Truly.
And Asta couldn't stand it.
She'd wanted to hurt him.
And she had succeeded. She knew that much to be true.
And for just a moment she had believed it had been worth it. She'd given up a shot at forty-five of his immortal years - years that were so very, very precious to her - but it had been worth it because she'd done it. She'd caused Loki true and lasting pain.
But then, not even that had been enough. It hadn't been what she wanted. She'd wanted to watch him fake it - to pretend he wasn't phased. She'd wanted to have to search for cracks in his facade. But Loki couldn't even give her that. He hadn't even bothered to hide it from her - what that trade had done to him. What she'd taken. He hadn't cared if she'd seen it. He didn't mask himself - his emotions - his anger or outrage or sorrow... He gave her nothing to taunt.
Because she wasn't what mattered in that moment.
Only the mortal did.
His pain had been for her. His anguish had been for her.
And even when he'd turned his rage towards Asta and she'd been able to goad him for those few fleeting moments, all it had taken was for his mortal to touch him to quell the storm that Asta was so desperately trying to bring to life.
And so she'd traded fifty years for a measly five just to confirm what she could already see plainly.
It was stupid.
She'd been stupid.
She needed those years.
That thought forced her mind back to a place she sorely wished it would not go. To the place she willed herself to avoid whenever possible. To the blackness starting to fester in her chest. Asta snarled at the very thought of it. It wasn't a cut or a wound, but still, it festered. It was more like... like an opening. A gateway. A portal growing inside of her to something... elsewhere. It tugged on her, wanting to pull her inward. She spent her every moment fighting against its lure. The cost of the power she wielded - the thing that, before long, would destroy her entirely. She pulled at her garments to further conceal it from sight.
Not for the first time, she wondered if perhaps it was the true reason she wanted Odinson's attention - affection - so that he might feel some desire to save her from it. Asta secretly believed he might just be the only being who could.
He knew how precious a commodity his years could be to her. And he'd never so much as offered her a single one. Not even the night when, drunken on a mixture of mead and desperation, she had fallen to her knees before him and begged for them - for anything. Loki had not conceded. Not a single, measly year. At least afterwards he'd had the decency to pretend it had never happened, sparing her pride.
But for his mortal, he'd handed his years over freely. He'd agreed to fifty. And Asta suspected that if she had not backed down, she'd have been able to leech even more still.
A leech.
That's what the mortal had called her.
And she supposed that she was.
She'd greedily leeched the years from Loki. And she'd maliciously done the same of the mortal's. Leeched from them both so that she might live just a little longer.
All the while, witnessing the two lovers doing just the opposite. Willingly throwing their years at her so that the other might endure.
Asta moved closer to the form she had conjured, studying her features, only a hair's breadth between them. Close enough to kiss. With near-reverent fingertips she swept a lock of her hair out of her face.
"My lady," a hesitant voice sounded from the doorway then, stirring her from her thoughts.
"What is it, Taq?" she responded without looking his way.
She continued to caress her conjuring of the mortal without any shame or embarrassment of being observed, gazing at her, drinking in her features.
"Forgive the intrusion, my lady. But a ship has been detected in the atmosphere... it appears to be Atraxian."
Asta stilled at that, a chill shooting down her spine. Her hand fell away from the mortal's form as she straightened slowly, drawing away and turning slowly to look at the gnarled-faced man.
"That's not possible," she whispered evenly.
"They haven't given any sign of attack as of yet," Taq went on, a slight tremor in his voice. "But they're moving to enter the atmosphere. It appears that they are... hunting."
"Hunting," Asta repeated, her pulse spiking.
It didn't make sense. The Atraxis didn't venture to this realm. Not for... millennia. They kept to the darkness. Out of the sight of Asgard and it's King. To venture even to Vanaheim - whether a single soldier or all their legions - was an act of war.
What could they possibly--
Asta's eyes drifted almost involuntarily to the mortal's form once more.
"Leave us," she ordered calmly, and Taq retreated in an instant.
The Witchling studied the mortal with a refreshed interest, eyeing her up and down. She extended a hand, ignoring the way it tremored, and called forth her power. Her magic licked at the copy of the mortal woman, learning her - knowing her - and it prickled with a strange excited energy like nothing Asta had ever felt before when it settled around her forearm.
Even before Asta pulled back the woman's sleeve she knew what it would reveal.
The Mark of Sjelevii.
Asta loosed a breath at the sight of it as dread filled the very core of her.
"Odinson, you fool."
It shouldn't have surprised Reagan once they'd passed through the portal Asta had opened for them, to open her eyes and find the woman with the golden eyes right there before her, in the flesh, as if she'd been waiting for them to arrive. She was roughly twenty yards away, her back turned to them, as she gazed out over endless planes of snow. The air was biting and the wind carried mists of frost, and the heavy fabrics the woman had wrapped around her were dusted white with snow. She was stoic - calm - as if she had been standing there for an age, and had an eternity longer to remain there, waiting.
There was something about the sight of her, standing alone in the snow that swept the wind from Reagan's lungs.
It was beautiful.
She was beautiful.
She hadn't even seen her face - those golden eyes which had become so familiar to her in her dreaming state - but there was something so familiar about her. About all of it.
It felt like coming home.
And it dawned on her then that she was back on Earth. Norway. Not 'home' exactly, but far closer than she'd imagined she'd be again. She and Loki hadn't exactly planned their next steps before the dreams had started - hadn't discussed where their future together might reside - but she'd hardly imagined taking up residence in New York was an option.
Midgard wasn't really an option.
Reagan had made her peace with that.
Until this woman had called her back there.
It felt right. Like it was where she was supposed to be.
A peaceful sort of smile pulled at her lips.
She glanced to Loki then only to find his features stony, his hard gaze fixed upon the woman in the distance - all too apparent that he'd been working through an entirely different thought process to her.
"Alright," Loki murmured calmly, under his breath. "On three."
Reagan's brow furrowed and she glanced back toward the woman.
"What?"
She almost snapped her neck as she looked his way once again and found him poised, ready for attack. She watched somewhat dazed as he conjured his daggers.
"One..." he said. "Two..."
Reagan smacked his arm audaciously, instantly drawing his attention her way. He stilled and glanced at her, surprised to find her face contorted into a look of utter disbelief.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she asked, bewildered.
Equal confusion etched his features then.
"I'm going to kill her," Loki said simply, as though it were obvious.
"Excuse me?"
"Yes. While we still have the element of surprise."
"What are you talking about?"
Loki now looked thoroughly perplexed.
"What are you talking about?" he rebutted. "This is the whole reason that we are here."
"We're here to find out what she wants."
Loki snickered at the very idea of it. He straightened a little, cocking his head to the side as he looked down at her.
"I didn't watch you trade away five years of your life just to make idle chitchat with this woman. Now stand aside so that I can put an end to her."
"I'm not going to just stand here and let you knife an old lady, you absolute lunatic." Reagan hissed.
She was graced with that all-too-cocky grin of his as he side-eyed her and regripped his blade handles. Never one to back down from a challenge.
"You think you can stop me? I am infinitely faster than you."
"Loki, you give me those knives right now."
"No."
"Give them to me."
"No."
Reagan glared up at him, and for a moment he just stared back at her defiantly. But then she felt it, the way he prickled under her gaze, loathing for her to look at him like that. It was enough to make her want to soften, and maybe she would have if she hadn't been all that stood between Loki and an elderly murdering rampage.
When it became clear to him that she wasn't backing down Loki scowled but relented. He handed his knives over to her like a petulant child who had just been caught playing with a firecracker.
Only to then conjure afresh two blades as he set his sight back on the old woman and widened his stance, readying himself for the kill.
"Fucking-- stop that!"
Reagan lunged for the knives in his hands.
"Reagan!" Loki exclaimed in alarm as he hurriedly attempted to angle the blades away from her to avoid slicing her open by accident.
Reagan wasn't deterred. She desperately attempted to wrap her hands around any length of the hilts that weren't already in Loki's clutches as he struggled to simultaneously keep his grip on the weapons whilst also keeping her out of harm's way.
"Reagan, this is so unspeakably unsafe!"
"Then give them to me!"
"Have you any idea how many people meet an accidental death in this manner?!"
"Well, if stop trying to murder a geriatric for a just second I'll be able to back up a little!"
"She's a threat."
"What, are you worried she's going to get her rheumatoid arthritis on you? She's like a hundred years old!"
Loki loosed a growl of frustration. He had no other choice but to throw the blades into the snow at their feet and take a few steps back, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. The pair stared at one another, as they each fought to steady their breathing.
"Reagan," he managed to say evenly, very clearly attempting to keep his voice calm. "She can get inside your mind. Past your shields. Past either of our shields. She has power not to be meddled with."
"You don't know that. She might just need my help."
"I'm not willing to take that risk," Loki snapped.
He said it with a finality that Reagan had never heard in him before - as though there was no room at all for him ever to be swayed on the matter. Reagan slowed, studying him as sudden and confusing emotion forced a tightness into her throat.
"So you'd just kill her - just in case - without even knowing?" Reagan asked, her voice waivered despite her attempt to keep it even. "You could live with that?"
Loki set his jaw as he stared back at her and held his chin just a little higher as he responded, knowing full well it was far from the answer she wanted.
"Without question."
They stared at one another. Loki with nothing left to say on the matter and Reagan, for once, at a loss of what to say. It was almost merciful that a third voice chose that moment to interject.
"As touching as that is, your majesty, there will be no need for any stabbings today."
Both Loki's and Reagan's attention snapped towards the old woman who now hobbled towards them slowly through the snow.
Loki scowled, clenching his fists. He cursed himself. He'd allowed himself to become distracted, and now they'd lost their advantage. Whether the woman had sensed their presence - Reagan's presence - the moment they'd passed through the gate or whether it was their squabbling that had drawn her attention their way, it mattered not.
She was here now.
So perilously close.
And when she turned and eyed him up and down - when she addressed him first - it only confirmed every suspicion he'd ever held. That she had only one intention - to take that which he loved away from him.
"My, such a short time has passed and yet I'd argue you've changed more than I have," she offered him a soft, wrinkled smile.
"I beg your pardon?" Loki asked, his tone biting.
He'd never seen this woman before in his life - save for within Reagan's dreams - and yet she had the audacity to address him with familiarity - as though he were an old acquaintance.
The woman didn't seem at all put out by his tone. Instead, she seemed rather bemused, reading Loki's reaction for exactly what it was.
"I don't think you'd recognise me even if I did still possess my youth," she told him. "It's no fault of yours. Our paths were never destined to cross directly - well, until now, of course."
The woman turned to Reagan then, and her gaze softened. As if the very sight of her caused her to melt.
"Hello, dear," her voice was so intimately warm and her smile was bright. "I've so been looking forward to meeting you, at last."
The moment Reagan locked eyes with her, every fibre in her body told her she was safe. The woman took hold of her hands and Reagan went with it willingly, vaguely surprised to find them so warm after standing for so long waiting in the snow.
The tension in her muscles loosed. The apprehension ebbing from her end of the bond dissipated entirely.
And Loki watched it, dread crawling under every inch of his skin - taking hold of his very cells. The promise she'd made to him - to act as if the woman's only intention was to harm her - he felt it vanish from her mind. Forgotten entirely. Because she was sure. She felt safe. She was so, so certain of it.
He watched as Reagan smiled.
"Heika," she murmured with a growing familiarity.
Her name. Reagan knew the witch's name. She said it like a long-forgotten memory that she had once loved dearly was slowly returning to her.
"Reagan," the woman said in response, as though she'd spoken the name a thousand times before.
Loki glowered at her.
Heika inclined her head.
"Come, let's get the two of you out of this cold. A storm is on its way."
And when Reagan moved to follow her without even a whisp of hesitation, Loki could hardly stand it.
Reagan... Please...
She glanced back over her shoulder at him. She seemed confused for a moment by his own hesitance but then seemed to remember herself, if only for a moment. She moved closer to him, her expression open.
It's okay, she assured him calmly. I know you think this is a trap--
It is a trap.
It's not, Reagan promised him. We should go with her. I know that she isn't going to hurt us.
You think that, Loki said trying his absolute best to remain patient, because she's wormed her way inside your mind.
Loki, she hasn't done that.
No? Then how did you know her name?
In the distance, the woman stood, watching their silent exchange patiently.
There was so much more - so much more - that Loki wanted to say to her, but he couldn't risk it. Not with this woman having sunk her talons so thoroughly into Reagan. And it had taken only moments to achieve it. He hated that this woman was now likely privy to Reagan's thoughts. He hated that he couldn't be open with her now. Couldn't risk speaking freely, in case it left her all the more vulnerable.
I know that you're worried, Reagan attempted again.
'Worried' is rather understated, actually.
But I'm asking you to trust me. Please.
She rest her hand reassuringly on his chest and Loki couldn't help but to soften as he stared down at her. His hand settled over hers, keeping her close to him. Keeping her where she was safest.
It's not a trap, she promised him. Just look at her. Can't you feel it?
And Loki could. That gentle ebb of calm, motherly energy.
He couldn't decide whether it made him want to gouge the woman's eyes out or vomit or both.
Reagan turned to look at the woman one more time.
Besides, she offered him a small smile, I'm with you. What could possibly go wrong?
Loki's expression turned pained. This wasn't his Reagan. But she was trapped in there somewhere now, and she needed him to fight for her. And so he would do just that. He'd walk straight through the gaping mouth of Hel for her. So what was one little witch? One little witch he'd take great pleasure in disembowelling.
Do you truly feel safe? He asked one last time, hoping to see just the smallest - smallest - sign of doubt. But there was none.
I do... Loki... It's okay.
She reached for his hand and he allowed her to take it. And when he squeezed it reassuringly, it drew a bright smile to her features.
I think everything is going to be alright, she promised him.
And Loki, with no other choice, smiled down at her gently.
Yes, I think you might be right.
As Loki followed Reagan headfirst into this very clear and obvious trap, he remained closer to her than even her own shadow.
The witch had stolen her mind from her in a heartbeat. She hadn't even had to utter a word. Loki hadn't even sensed her magic. And yet the calm that had settled over Reagan in that instant had been enough to turn Loki's stomach. Whatever she was, she was powerful beyond compare. Not even Asta's tether had been enough for Reagan to resist this old crone's lure. At least Loki had the pleasure of deeming their bargain voided to look forward to. The look on her face would be delightful. She'd have no choice but to hand back the five years she'd stolen away from Reagan.
Once Loki had done away with the matter at hand, of course.
He had wanted so desperately to drag Reagan away from this harpy, kicking and screaming, if he'd had to. But the woman's gaze had been fixed on them. And Reagan had remained so frightfully calm. Was the witch trying to ensnare him too? Was she using Reagan as a puppet to lull him into a false sense of security - to coax him to lower his defences? It was so hard to tell when he couldn't detect the workings of her magic.
He'd decided that he couldn't afford to resist if that was what she'd been trying to do - better to allow the witch to think that her magic had a hold on him as well. At least that way she'd allow him and Reagan to remain together. If she tried to separate them, well, then he'd have to improvise.
But for now, he followed along, with Reagan near-glued to his side, as this wretched crone guided them towards the edge of a small, unassuming-looking town and up the cobbled steps to her humble dwellings. Loki surveyed the streets as the woman fiddled with the lock on the door. They were all but deserted, the blinds of the neighbouring homes drawn shut, though the faint glow of fireplaces could be seen in a few. And smoke rose from a great many of the chimneys up and down the road. The illusion of occupancies. A nice touch.
Not one that he'd fall for.
As the woman opened the door and stepped aside for them, Loki forced himself to cross the threshold calmly - knowing all too well what a terrible idea it was to allow this woman to trap them within her dwellings. Escape just became that much harder.
It mattered not.
He need only be patient - to bide his time for the opportune moment to strike--
"Wipe your feet, dear," the woman said to him.
"I beg your pardon?" Loki asked once again, thrown.
"Would you wipe your feet? " she repeated kindly. "So you don't trek too much snow through the house. My arthritis plays up on these colder days and it makes it rather difficult to mop up."
"Of course, forgive me," Loki replied lightly, glaring daggers at the back of the woman's head as he shuffled his feet along the mat by the door while she ambled her way up the hall. So seemingly innocently.
So.
It was to be mind games then, was it?
Loki was well prepared for that.
He moved cautiously down the musty hallway, surveying for any signs of danger. He glanced in Reagan's direction every few moments, ensuring that she was still there with him - still safe. She seemed perfectly aware of the tension in him, though she was thoroughly calm herself. And she followed suit. Almost as if she were humouring him.
The woman's lair had been disguised as a modest mortal dwelling. Worn carpet. Peeling wallpaper. Slightly crooked photo frames lining the walls. Had he the stomach to pay the foul creature a compliment, Loki might even admit the illusion to be impressive in its detail. Especially when the hallway gave way to a small, time-worn kitchen. The heavy smell of old cooking spices and fats and oils baked into the very fibres of the room. A round, paint-chipped table sat in its centre and the woman ambled around it slowly to make her way over to the sink.
"Tea?" she offered, reaching for the kettle.
"That would be amazing," Reagan confessed as she slid comfortably into a chair at the table, as if it were a home she had visited a thousand times before.
"And for the Prince?"
"None for me," he declined with a smooth, polite smile.
Did she truly think it would be so easy to get them drinking her concoctions? Reagan would be putting that cup to her lips over his cold, rotting corpse. From where Loki stood, he kept his eyes trained on the woman's every movement - those wrinkled, gnarled knuckles of hers - as she prepared two identical cups of tea. He didn't allow himself to so much as blink as he watched, waiting to catch the slide of hand that would slip some secret ingredient into the cup which would prove their undoing.
"Do you need any help?" Reagan asked, surveying from her place at the table.
"That's alright, dear," the woman assured her. "It's not often I get to entertain. I may move slowly but do indulge me."
It took a great deal of self-control to hold back his scoff.
The woman took up the two cups and carried them over to the kitchen table, placing one down in front of herself and the other in front of Reagan. Fragrant steam wafted up into the air.
Damn it. He'd missed it. Or perhaps the herb that the witch had brewed was something she'd built an immunity to, and both cups were equally as toxic. No matter. He only had to slip Reagan's away from hers sight unseen. Be damned what the old hag wanted to ingest.
"Now," she sat down in the chair opposite Reagan with a slightly weary grunt. "I'm sure you're wondering why it is I have been calling you to me."
Reagan blinked a little as if for just a moment she was gaining some of her consciousness back. Loki's jaw flexed as he watched them.
"Oh," Reagan murmured as if she had entirely forgotten the purpose of them being there. "Yeah. Yes, that's why we've come."
"It's why you've come," the woman corrected with a bemused glance in Loki's direction. "This one only seems concerned with how to bring about my demise. I do hope if he snaps before I'm able to explain myself that he will at the very least make it painless."
Loki scowled openly then, seeing no need to maintain his falsely affable manner. He strode towards the table, took up Reagan's 'tea' and dumped it down the witches' sink for good measure.
"Loki!" Reagan chided, surprised.
Heika only laughed at the sight.
"It's alright, dear," she assured her. "I can hardly blame him. I can imagine my reaching out has been quite the intrusion upon the bond you share, particularly when it is still so young."
"Just tell us what you want, witch," Loki snarled.
"Would you stop it?" Reagan hissed, evidently embarrassed by his behaviour.
Heika reached across the table then and laid her hand gently over Reagan's, drawing her attention back to her.
"I've needed to reach you... because it has come to my attention that you've not yet fully embraced the gift I gave to you."
Confusion etched Reagan's features. She hesitated for a moment before she spoke.
"The gift?"
"Your fire, dear. You must have wondered where it came from, surely?"
A chill swept through Loki and he drew a little closer to Reagan as he felt her experience the same.
"That was you?" she asked in a murmur. And Loki found himself strangely relieved when he, at last, sensed uncertainty in her. "You gave it to me?"
"I did."
"Why?"
Heika smiled gently.
"Ah, and there it is. Why." Her gaze moved from Reagan to Loki and then back again. She settled back into her chair, amusement still etching her weathered features. "I'm going to tell you everything, sweet girl. Everything you've wondered about yourself. About your powers. Why I chose you. But first, you must allow me to tell you a tale of my own."
Notes:
I hope you enjoyed <3 I've missed you all!
I didn't expect this chapter to become so Asta-heavy. She's grown on me way more than I expected, I really enjoyed writing her. This chapter had to be split into two. Can't wait to tell you Heika's story! Any theories?
More soon xoxox
Chapter 30
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Asta moved frantically around the rotting back room in the ramshackle tavern that she'd made her home for the past three decades, tearing open cupboards and drawers, scouring the place for anything to help reinforce her warding. Herbs. Talismans. Anything.
Dark energy coursed out of her, thrumming in the atmosphere, so potent it distorted reality around her.
"Come on..." she begged in a whisper as she rifled through overstuffed cabinets. "Come on... Ah, ha!"
She exclaimed in manic triumph as she found the thing she'd been searching for - a single, precious vial of essence of starleaf. One of the most expensive magical herbs she'd ever come into possession of. She still remembered the day she'd purchased it - a millennia ago now. She'd had to place a battalion of near seven hundred soldiers into an ever-sleep in exchange for that single vial. She snatched it up, rushing to a basin of water she had waiting on the table in the centre of the decrepit room.
Asta unstoppered the vial with her teeth and dumped the entire contents into the water.
The herb would be of no use to her anyway if she was dead.
She wanted to run. She needed to run. But having tethered herself to a couple branded with the Mark of Sjelevii - with the Atraxis nigh on her doorstep? There was nowhere that she could go - they'd scent her out. It was too late now unless Loki and his mortal broke the tether.
Fleetingly, she wondered if this had all been a set-up - a way for Loki to finally be rid of her.
But the way he'd looked at the mortal... no. He'd not risk her. Odinson had no idea what was coming for him or his lover.
Asta, swirled the water in the basin impatiently, willing the starleaf to fully dissolve.
She next took up a fistful of bird bones, snapping them violently and scattering them into the liquid. Lastly, hissing words of magic in an ancient tongue, she ran a blade over her wrist, spilling her blood into the swirling liquid before her. She breathed a sigh of relief as the basin began to glow. She leaned over the concoction, breathing in the heavy scent of magic.
And finally, she called to him.
Odinson... Odinson...
Nothing.
Asta frowned.
Odinson?
She splashed an impatient hand onto the surface of the water as if that might hurry things along.
Hear me now!
Again, nothing.
Asta's lip curled into a snarl as realisation dawned upon her - that lecherous, soul-sucking cretin was ignoring her.
"Loki!" she shouted, sending a pulse of angry, black magic into the concoction for good measure.
When he pointedly ignored her magic once again, Asta let out a scream of frustration, pulling at her hair. With every second she was running out of time. With every second the Atraxis drew closer.
"I always knew you'd be the death of me, you bastard."
A million, million lightyears away in a small town in the North-most regions of Norway, a pregnant silence hung within a small, cozy kitchen.
Heika sat patiently, watching as her guests weighed her words following her declaration, her steaming tea nursed close to her lips.
Reagan studied the old woman, her brow furrowing slightly as - for the first time in the woman's presence - unease began to swell within her. She leaned back in her chair as if to put a little distance between her and the woman opposite her.
True enough, Reagan had always longed to know where her powers had originated from. She'd yearned for answers - for even a hint - as to why it all had happened. Why her? But Reagan, for all the innumerable times she'd wondered why... she'd always considered it an accident - happenstance - her being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Not once, not even for a moment, had she ever imagined she'd been chosen by someone on purpose.
A horrible pit settled in her stomach at the idea of it.
This woman - this stranger - had chosen her.
How long had she watched her? How much had she known about her before she made her choice?
Why?
Why?
Reagan soon sensed Loki, inspecting the bond, monitoring her train of thought, sensing her unease. With every passing second, his rage seemed to grow. She glanced his way, his attention may have been with the bond but his gaze was fixed upon Heika. Every muscle in his body was tensed as if he were waiting for the slightest hint of movement from the woman so that he might strike first.
It came as a surprise to no one when it was he who broke the strained silence at long last.
"You gave her flames to her," he repeated evenly, addressing Heika.
"That's right," she replied, leaning back in her chair to look up at him and meet his eye.
"You did that."
"Yes."
Loki's nostrils flared as he glowered at the woman. The kitchen lights flickered, darkening, as wild, poorly-suppressed energy pulsed off of him. Reagan's pulse quickened in response but she didn't move to intercept, still somewhat reeling from Heika's revelation. Loki moved closer to the old woman - like a predator - his icy gaze fixed upon her.
"Have you any idea what you put her through?" he asked her slowly, the words were laced with the tell-tale tremor of suppressed rage. "Have you any idea the ways you've made her suffer?"
Reagan's heart leapt in surprise as her eyes shot up to Loki's face. She hadn't expected him to say that. Not at all. Reagan watched him, her brow pinching and her lips parting slightly, but Loki's gaze remained resolutely fixed on the woman sitting at the opposite side of the kitchen table.
She opened her mouth to try and speak but her voice failed her, her throat tightening with emotion.
Loki, however, was not experiencing such a problem.
"The agony you forced her to endure," Loki glowered down at the woman. "The years of loneliness and guilt and isolation she faced because of you. Do you know how afraid she's had to be?"
Reagan had been well prepared for Loki to react in anger, no matter what Heika said to him - he'd been ready for blood the moment he'd laid eyes on her. But she realised in that moment that she'd supposed his rage was coming from something possessive in him.
She was well aware of Loki's penchant for jealousy. She knew of that part of him that he sorely wished to keep a secret from her - that he longed to hide her away in some unseen place made only for the two of them, to shield her from anything that might threaten to steal her from him. She knew it took a great deal of his self-control not to behave in such a way. Especial today... around Asta. Around Heika. Especially when she'd made choices he'd thought were reckless. Choices that had hurt him. Choices... that she hadn't realised until this very moment, were pushing him away from her against his will. She hadn't meant to do that. But she'd done it, nonetheless.
So used to going it alone. So used to standing with nothing but a wall behind her.
And still, this anger in him - it was for her. It had been his first thought - his very first thought. That this woman had caused her suffering he'd never even had the chance to protect her from - to help her overcome. And still, he wished he could unmake it. It was so...
Reagan didn't even know the word for it.
Loki knew her. Loki understood her. She'd let him in - let him feel the pain and anguish she'd experienced. He'd felt the incomprehensible relief he'd brought to her when she'd learned to call back her flames. Since that day, she'd felt like she was moving forward. She hadn't forgotten - she'd never be able to forget - but it was as though it had become something smaller. Because, finally, she'd found a way to be able to move on and heal and grow. She hadn't lost the pain - the fear - but she'd felt... perhaps a form of closure, from her past. And Loki, he'd been such a massive part of that. An anchor. A rock. Holding steadfast in his reassurance that it was something she could conquer - until she finally believed that she could.
Until she was finally able to believe that she was more than it.
She'd conquered it.
Just as he'd believed that she could.
And still, here he stood, seething that she'd ever had to experience that suffering.
It suddenly felt as if her entire world had shifted, as she sat there, watching him utterly glowering at this stranger across from them. She wasn't alone anymore.
Reagan wasn't alone anymore.
It was such a strange feeling... Since her powers. Since she'd lost her mother. She'd gone so long without that feeling - without someone who put her first. She knew that Loki loved her - she knew that. She knew that he'd be with her whatever was to come. But the knowing of that was different to the knowing that she wasn't alone. She hadn't realised... This kind of love - this anger for her. It wasn't possessive. It was selfless. Loki was hers. And he was willing to do anything for her - to go to any length for her happiness. He was with her. She'd asked for him to stand beside her, totally oblivious to the fact that he was trying to do exactly that. She'd thought he was being possessive but... Loki had become her home - and only now could she see just how seriously he took that responsibility.
With her heart near bursting, Reagan at last turned her attention back to Heika, waiting to hear her response to Loki's accusations.
Have you any idea the ways you've made her suffer?
And for the first time, Heika's expression turned rather sombre as she held Loki's hateful gaze.
"Yes... I know."
Loki, utterly oblivious to the epiphany Reagan was in the middle of, practically snarled at the old woman's response.
His voice sounded in her mind then.
Are you sure I'm not allowed to stab this woman? Not even a little?
And she could hear it, the sincerity in the question, but also the way he needed to jest with her. Because he needed her to anchor him - to stop him from losing control. To bring him back to her, to help him find that balance. Because his rage was there and it was real and it threatened to consume him.
A smile settled in the corner of her mouth.
I can't tell you what you mean to me, she told him gently.
Loki stilled. And she felt him hesitate - evidently, it was far from the response he'd expected. It seemed such a strange thing to say in their current situation. He glanced her way, uncertain, and seemed to actually be surprised to find her gazing at him... kindly.
I'm sorry, she told him, sincerely.
Which appeared to confuse him all the more.
She watched his brow furrow, felt him prod at the bond. She let him search it freely. Heika be damned - she could wait. Reagan could sense his suspicion that this was the work of the woman. She was well aware that he thought she was under some kind of spell. And she felt the way he softened - calmed - as he read her revelation, understanding.
I know that I've fought you every step of the way today, she told him. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I'm just not used to having... It's been a long time since I--
Emotion choked her, cutting the thought short. The way he looked at her then, it was enough to melt her entirely and she knew that he understood.
Well, I'd suggest you learn to lean into it. It's my intention to ensure you never feel alone again.
I know... I'm going to try to stop being so...
Stubborn? Loki asked, teasingly.
And though she pursed her lips at him, she still looked slightly amused.
I was going to say 'independent.'
Ah, my mistake.
I still don't think this is a trap. And I don't want you to hurt her, Reagan clarified then, much to Loki's obvious displeasure. I want to hear what she has to say. But you don't have to worry I'm with you, okay? I'm with you.
The smallest hint of a smile ghosted over his lips before he - somewhat violently - kicked out the chair beside Reagan and with an uncharacteristic lack of grace, sat himself down heavily beside her and faced the old woman. And then by wild juxtaposition, he reached gently for Reagan's hand and laced his fingers between hers.
Loki set his withering gaze in place once more, the woman did not waiver.
"Tell us your tale then, witch," he spat impatiently. "And be quick about it."
The old woman smiled at him. "You may not believe this, Prince, but I'm actually trying to help you."
"You're right, I don't believe you at all."
She nodded calmly, her eyes flickering between him and Reagan. She could clearly see the change in them - the fact that an exchange had occurred that she was not privy to. It didn't seem to deter her. Rather, if anything, she seemed calmed by it.
"I'll have your trust soon enough," she promised them with a smile, to which Loki only scoffed.
"You sound rather confident in that."
"That would be because I am."
"Believe whatever you like, witch," he snarled at her. "Just know that if I detect even the whisper of a lie, I will gut right here on these ghastly tiles."
"Well, I certainly don't appreciate the attack on my taste in decor but I thank you for the warning regardless, my Prince."
"You keep calling him that," Reagan said, finding her voice again at last. "How do you know? Is it because of me?"
And the thought of it left her feeling vaguely dirty - that she might have divulged information about him to this woman he distrusted so. It was as though Reagan's mind had cleared. She couldn't quite believe the unwavering trust she'd followed this woman into her home with - that she'd coaxed Loki to come with her. What sort of danger had she led them into? Her stomach roiled at the thought. But beside her, Loki was calm, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
Heika smiled kindly at her then.
"It wasn't your doing, sweet girl," she promised. "The answer to that actually brings us to the beginning of our tale. To Asgard."
"You know about Asgard?" Reagan asked.
"Intimately, my dear. I remember every cobblestone, the golden towers of the royal palace, the gods who lived among it - and of course, King Odin, Queen Frigga and their two sons."
"But how?"
"It's where I was born."
Loki shifted, hateful gaze still glued upon the woman.
"You're Asgardian?" he asked. It sounded almost like an accusation.
"I am," Heika smiled. "Or at least, I once was. I'm something a little different now."
"If you're from Asgard, then what are you doing here of all places?" he asked.
She shrugged a little, amused by the question as if it were some inside joke.
"My mother always said that I was born with wanderlust," Heika told them, her words warm with nostalgia. "As a child, she used to tell me that had I been born with wings, she feared I'd have left my cradle in the dark of night and never have returned again. I had a deep yearning to see the universe. Forever gazing up toward the stars. It was as though I had this innate sense in me that I was just supposed to be somewhere else. There were even times when I wondered if perhaps there'd been a mistake, and my very soul was born into the wrong body."
Heika laughed a little at the idea and Reagan couldn't help but to smile along with her.
"I longed to see every speck of the universe. It felt as though I needed to pull it apart with my bare hands. And so... when my older brother developed a gift that gave him sight beyond our realm alone, well, I can't even begin to explain to you my envy."
"Sight beyond your realm?" Reagan asked.
"My brother possesses an incredible gift. His sight extends to every corner of the nine realms. He can see all. Hear all. He can hear his name called out from across the universe. I still often find myself talking to him, even though I know he can't respond. In fact, he's likely watching us right now. Heaven knows he's been waiting for this day."
"This is ridiculous," Loki scoffed. "There's only one being alive to possess such a power."
"Yes, that's right," Heika smiled at him.
"Are you trying to tell us that-"
"I am, indeed. Heimdall, Gatekeeper of Asgard, is my older brother."
Loki didn't respond.
And Reagan had no idea how to.
Once again, they sat in silence, Heika's words sinking in.
Reagan studied the woman before her in surprise. The coy smile playing upon her face was evidence enough that she was rather enjoying the drama of the reveal. As Reagan looked at her, she realised it was actually a rather challenging task to compare the two in her head. By mortal standards, Heika looked decades older than Heimdall - her hair had greyed, heavy bags had formed beneath her eyes, and deep lines had formed around all of her features.
Also, Reagan had never seen Heimdall smile before.
But there was one rather striking, undeniable feature the two shared.
Those eyes.
Those golden eyes.
The ones that Reagan had dreamed about, time and time again.
Beside her, Loki seemed to be battling with the same revelation. He eyed Heika distrustfully but did not fight her on the declaration. Rather, it seemed he'd elected to remain quiet, allowing the woman to continue.
"He was so young when the gift came to him. And so wonderfully proud, too. He always longed to serve the realm - to contribute to the betterment, not only of Asgard, but all the nine realms. It aged him - it was inevitable, coming into such knowledge - wisdom had to come with it. And it wasn't long before word reached the King of the power he possessed, and my brother was called to serve. He went willingly. Went to do his duty. Training to become the next guardian of the Bifrost. He took to it like it was his very purpose for existing. It was lucky for me, though, that he also adored me fiercely, and so it wasn't long before I was spending every second I could spare begging him for whispers of what the universe held.
"I think it surprised us both, that it was Midgard that truly captured my interest. I couldn't learn enough. I'm certain it annoyed him to no end, but I do also like to think that he enjoyed my company, alone at the end of the Bifrost.
"Once my brother came into his powers, Odin's advisors kept close tabs on me for quite a time after that. I think the only reason I was permitted to spend so much time at my brother's side was that they were all hoping I'd develop a gift that could be of equal use to the realm. And I was not afraid to admit to any one of them who would listen that it was the last thing in the world that I desired - I did not wish to serve as my brother served. Nonetheless, they were utterly delighted when a gift appeared to awaken within me."
"What was it?" Reagan asked. "Your gift."
Heika heaved a heavy sigh.
"My brother can see much," she said to them. "But some might argue that I see more. My visions started as flashes - mere seconds - of glimpses into the future. But quickly, they grew into something more. Until I was slipping into hour-long trances, gazing eons into the future."
Heika shook her head, she seemed to grow weary at the very idea of it.
"Odin's council were delighted. And so my training began. But over the years, as Heimdall proved himself worthy in every respect, I failed them. I couldn't control the visions. I was too wild for what they asked of me, too undisciplined. Unwieldy. I couldn't summon my powers, could not call upon them or bend them to my will. The visions came to me instead at random."
"They tried to make use of me. Tried to have me record anything that I might see that would be of use to them so that they might have their elders decipher meaning from what I saw. There was never anything too significant. Much to their chagrin. Still, I tried my best to be helpful. I gave them everything I could."
Heika looked to Loki then, her eyes locking with his. She remained quiet for a moment, studying his face.
"All except for one thing," she told him. "One vision I saw of the youngest Asgardian Prince. One thing that felt so desperately important, but far too intimate to divulge."
The bond began to coil with nervous energy, and Reagan brushed against it reassuringly.
"I saw it to be true that the dark prince would one day become the bearer of the Mark of Sjelevii. I saw that he would share it with a girl from Midgard. I saw that he knew of this - that he'd glimpsed just a moment of his own fate himself. That he expected her to loathe him. And that he was doomed to lose her to a mortal lifespan."
Beside her, Loki wasn't breathing, and Reagan watched as Heika's eye remained only on him, genuine sympathy in her gaze.
"It was so cruel a thing. Too personal a secret. I couldn't bring myself to give that knowledge to the council. And I think they knew it - that I was hiding something from them. It was the final straw, I believe. My haphazard control. My cryptic, useless hints at the future. And now, my withholding of secrets. They were done with me.
"But it was no concern of mine. I never wanted to serve the realm. Only to explore it. And so, when the elders finally grew weary of me, I had far more time to myself - and I devoted a great deal of that time to pestering poor Heimdall once again. He'd been keeper of the Bifrost for decades by then - and he'd never admit to it, but he'd grown a little more... relaxed in his duties. He told me all I wanted to know. Which it turned out, was a rather vicious cycle. The more he told me of life on Midgard, the more I longed to know. The more I learned, the more I thought of it. And soon, the hearing of it was no longer enough. I had to see it for myself.
"It took me years to convince him. I'd beg and beg and always he'd deny me. Until at last, I wore him down. 'Five minutes,' I'd begged him. 'Just five, and then I'll never mention it again.' I'm sure we both knew it was a lie, but I think it made it easier for Heimdall to believe he was putting a problem to rest. And after he'd snuck me down here the once, the times that followed just became all the easier."
Heika smiled to herself, brushing away a tear that slipped down her cheek.
"I'm sure after a time, Heimdall began to wonder why I didn't ask to explore the other realms - why it was only Midgard I sought to return to over and over again. And in truth, if he had asked me, I wouldn't have been able to explain it myself. I think the truth of it is, that I spent all that time looking to the stars - all that time yearning to explore the realms - and then setting my sights so resolutely upon Midgard because somehow I knew that's where I'd find him. My Jonas."
Heika set her teacup aside then and leaned forward on the kitchen table. She clasped her gnarled hands together and smiled at the pair sitting opposite her.
"I promised you'd soon trust me," she reminded them.
"You did," Loki replied evenly, though there was an edge to her tone.
Heika dropped his gaze and reached slowly for the cuff of her sleeve. With age-stiff fingers, she pulled her sleeve back from her wrist and held it out for them to see.
The air rushed suddenly from Reagan's lungs.
"Is that--"
Upon the old woman's wrist, shifting in the light was an iridescent shape. A mark. So entirely unique, and yet, so intimately familiar.
The Mark of Sjelevii.
Wide-eyed, Reagan looked from Heika to Loki. He seemed to be trying to hold his mask in place, though his face had unquestionably paled. She reached for him, settling a reassuring hand upon his forearm. She squeezed it. He didn't react.
"I always thought it was so strange, that I'd foreseen yours but not my own. Still, I'll never forget the feeling," Heika told them as she stared down at her wrist, running her other hand gently over the marking. "That pull to be closer to him. I'd visited Midgard so many times by then I'd lost track, but that day, there was something different. Something in my very bones that knew I was going to find him. The second he touched me - it was as though the very foundations of the universe shifted. Our minds became one. Our souls became one. And for the first time in my long, long life, I finally understood what it was to feel at home. I'll never forget the calm - the serenity of that first moment... It felt like... finally."
Reagan dropped her gaze when she couldn't quite hide an amused grin - how lovely a story it sounded - and the absolute antithesis of what she'd felt when she first found Loki. She'd loathed him, set herself aflame, told him to get out of her head, threatened to kill him. How impossibly long ago that all seemed now. She hazarded an amused glance in Loki's direction, hoping to catch his eye but found his attention rather rigidly fixed upon Heika instead.
"And this Jonas of yours," Loki murmured, his gaze flicking to the woman's wrist. "He's a mortal?"
Heika nodded.
"He was," she responded gently.
Was.
How astounding it was, the weight a single word could bear. Reagan felt the way it all but shattered through him.
Loki let out a long, steadying breath, and slowly freed his hand from hers.
Reagan let him go, turning just a little to watch him, concerned. She brushed gently against the bond but found he didn't react - it almost felt as if he couldn't. There was pain there - pain he was desperately trying to conceal. His eyes were wild and unfocused, and looking at him, she began to suspect that he was staving off tears.
Loki? she tried carefully.
He didn't respond.
"To love a mortal, when you're to exist an eternity without them," Heika explained gently, drawing Reagan's attention back to her. "It's like falling in love with a shooting star. So bright and beautiful and wonderful... But so painfully fleeting."
Reagan could hardly breathe as she watched tears pool in Heika's eyes. And it was made all the worse by the muted bond beside her - the storm of emotions he was trying to hold back. She so desperately wanted to reach for him, but didn't know how to. Not while he was hiding from her the way he was.
"You begin to bargain with the universe," Heika explained. "You start searching it for secrets not yet uncovered - a way to keep them with you. You know in the very core of you that you would beg or borrow or steal. You do unspeakable things just to buy another minute - that you might prolong the inevitable... I suspect your prince has already begun to do the same - begun to search for a way that he might keep you."
The bond became all the more clouded in response to Heika's words, as Loki tried to shield his reaction from Reagan once again. He wasn't going to let her see - let her help him. It was all the confirmation she needed to know that Heika was right.
He hadn't mentioned it to her. Not a word. But she knew he could barely even bring himself to mention her mortality. He'd avoided it vehemently. She'd thought he still needed time to face it. She'd not dreamed that he'd been searching for an answer - for a way that she might cheat death.
Loki...
"So you never found a way, then," he said to Heika, attempting to sound indifferent, though it was all too obvious that he was not.
"No," Heika answered so terribly gently, as though she knew exactly how crushing that one word would be. "I never found a way to prolong his life. But I found something else instead - a way for us to grow old together."
"And what was that?"
Heika leaned forward.
"I found a way to become mortal," she explained. "At first Jonas wouldn't hear of it. He promised me that if I went through with it he'd never forgive me. Never speak to me again. And so, at least for the first few years we spent together it wasn't an option."
Reagan felt as if she'd been doused in ice water. The very thought of it coiled a horrible, unbearable sickness, deep within her gut. Only a few hours earlier, she'd watched as Loki attempted to freely give away fifty years for her sake. The idea of him trading thousands? She couldn't even entertain it. She'd never entertain it. There's no way she'd let him do something like that. She was suddenly filled with an overwhelming urge to run. To take Loki's hand and drag him from that house. Away from Heika. Away from her dangerous ideas.
"So what changed? It appears to me that you got your way," Loki asked, rudely gesturing to Heika's aged appearance.
Heika to her credit let loose an amused chuckle, running her hand over her wrinkled cheeks.
"Yes, I got my way," she agreed. "It took a few years. But Jonas and I made a rather unexpected discovery. One that meant my mind was made up. Jonas could threaten to disappear all he liked, I was done with immortality."
"What did you discover?" Loki asked.
But sudden clarity hit Reagan like a freight train and she answered for her, staring at her unblinking.
"You were pregnant," she murmured.
Heika smiled at her warmly.
"Clever girl."
Her hand went to her stomach as if flashing back to a moment long ago when it had swelled with life.
"It's strange," she said. "The women here - on Midgard - and those back home too, they often say you know things about your child long before they're born. Your motherly intuition kicks in. You can feel it. Many claim they know the sex of their babes, long before they ever come along. They know when something isn't right. You're connected to them, after all. You feel them. And I knew with everything I was that the life growing inside of me was mortal."
Reagan's heart sank.
"To love a mortal man was one thing, but to know I'd have to watch my own child age and wither and die, leaving me to endure centuries with nothing but the memory of them. I wouldn't have it. Not for one moment. Not when there was another way. Jonas tried so desperately to convince me otherwise. But from the moment I felt that life inside me, my mind was made up. I cast the spell that same day, cleaved myself free from my power, encapsulated it... I became mortal. And I determined that when our child came of age, Jonas and I would put it to them, offer them the gift. The gift of power. Of extended life... but alas, it was not to be."
"Why not?" Reagan asked, so very swept up in the tale.
She hadn't realised that beside her, Loki hadn't moved, had stopped speaking, was barely breathing.
Heika reached then for a photo frame that had been sat in the centre of the table facing her. She looked at it fondly for a few moments, brushing a reverent hand over the picture before handing the frame over to Reagan. Reagan took it carefully, studying Heika with curiosity before she turned the photograph to face her. She let out a breath as she looked down at the age-worn photo. It was faded in one of the corners, and tiny cracks and folds marred the image as if it had been handled countless a time over many, many years.
Girls. Two girls. Sat side by side in matching dresses. Smiling.
"You had twins," Reagan whispered, her eyes flicking back to Heika who nodded.
She leaned forward and tapped her finger above the girl on the left.
"This is Emilie, and this is my Nora," she explained. "They were the most beautiful babies I ever laid eyes on. They turned..." she thought for a moment, "sixty-eight last September."
"Wow," Reagan breathed, gazing back down at the round-cheeked faces.
"From the moment they were born, the girls were inseparable," Heika smiled. "They refused to even sleep in separate cribs. Jonas and I actually checked them for soulmarks of their own."
She laughed fondly at the idea of it.
"We couldn't offer the gift to one without the other. Neither would have accepted anyway. They'd never have parted from one another - never have endured the fate, I myself dreaded so."
"Of course," Reagan murmured understanding.
"And so, for years I kept the gift hidden. Considered it insurance, perhaps, in case we ever had need of it. Emilie and Nora grew, and more children followed. We built a life. We were happy together." Heika smiled such a heartbreakingly beautiful smile. "We were so wonderfully, wonderfully happy."
Heika reached out then and took Reagan's hand in hers.
"I spent so many years as a mortal that I actually began to forget. I might have entirely if I'd not still gotten whispers - ghosts of visions. They were simple things. I'd know when it was going to rain, even when the forecast had not predicted it. I'd know when Jonas was going to burn dinner - though I'm sure many wives claim that ability. I saw such simple, frivolous things, my dear, until one day, I began to see visions of you."
"Me?" Reagan murmured.
She'd been so absorbed in Heika's story, that she'd forgotten momentarily that she was there for answers about herself. But that realisation caused her heart to begin to thunder. Her fire. She'd almost forgotten. Heika had given her her fire.
"I knew who you were the instant the visions had begun. After all, I'd seen your flames once before. And I couldn't quite help myself from dwelling upon it over the years. The boy I'd seen a lifetime ago - the one who had looked into an orb and seen the face of his soulmate. The one destined to love and lose a mortal - just as I had been. I'd changed my fate. Made my peace with it. But that poor, lonely Prince, a million, million miles away in the kingdom of the gods. He'd have to lose what I'd found a way to keep. And I had a gift so precious to give - one that I could give to another doomed to suffer the same fate as I."
Beside Reagan, Loki was deathly still.
"I had to be sure it was the right choice. I had to know it would go to someone deserving. I'm no fool, Prince, I know you've always lived your life within the shades of grey. Though, I think I understood better than most as to why that was. And so, I watched. I waited. I let the visions come to me. I learned all I could about the girl who would take up my gift and let it manifest in her as brilliant, blazing flames. The girl made of fire - that's what he calls you, isn't it?"
Reagan's brow pinched, her throat tightening with emotion as she listened.
"I saw that you would find one another - that you'd fight it. I saw that you would come together. And I'm sorry to say, that I can't give too much away, but what I've seen of your future... I know with every cell I'm made of that I've passed this gift on to the right person.
"I saw where to leave it for you to find alone in the snow beneath the Northern Lights. And... and I knew what would happen when you did. I saw you ignite. It was such a beautiful thing - that first moment. I saw what would follow - the anguish I forced you to endure. I saw it, Reagan, and you must believe me that it weighed heavily upon me - to put you through that. To make those people suffer the way they did. But the way you bared it, it was that which convinced me that you could bear the gift. It was not going to someone greedy or selfish or to someone who would revel in suffering. I knew that it was right."
Reagan swallowed, her heart racing in her chest. Unshed tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision as she stared at Heika. She opened her mouth to try to speak, but nothing would come to her.
"I can still feel the linger of it. It recognises me," Heika said. "It's why you feel so safe with me. My power. Your power. It knows that I'm no threat to you. It is ours. It bonds us. I wanted to tell you in the clearing, I just couldn't explain that without the rest of it. It's yours now... and I know you're going to do such wonderous things with it. It won't be easy, know that. But you'll have millennia to figure out how."
"Wait," Reagan managed at last. "Wait a minute... Ar-are you saying that--"
"I've given you a gift not just of fire, my girl, but of life... extended life."
"LOKI!" Asta screamed into the void, and he batted her efforts away once again. "LOKI, HEAR ME!"
Her magic sizzled around her with the threat of oncoming attack. Her time was almost up.
"LOKI, PLEASE!" she screamed
Beyond the door of her back room, a deafening boom resounded, shaking the very foundations she stood upon. Debris shook free from the rafters above, showering her in dust. It sounded as if half of the tavern had been obliterated. Shouts and screams quickly turned strangled and then silent.
Asta extended her arms, heart pounding, as she poured her power into her wards willing them - commanding them - to be enough to protect her.
Heavy footfalls made their way slowly up the hallway, towards the locked door.
The wood shattered into a million pieces - blasting into the room. Shards of rotten wood and splinters ricocheted off the surface of her wards. Asta didn't even blink. She stared defiantly at the hulking beast that stooped through the ruined doorway and paced towards her calmly.
The creature entered the room, standing to full height and exuding an aura of unearthly strength. Its frame was humanoid - though several feet taller - sculpted with bulging, sinewy muscles. It wore no clothing, its obsidian-black skin gleamed and crackled open as it moved as if it were scaled, revealing red-orange flesh beneath. It fixed yellow eyes upon the Witchling.
An Atraxi.
It stopped, still as stone at the edge of her spellwork. It growled at her through a hole in its face which appeared to be a mouth.
"Where are the paired?" it asked her in a gargled voice.
Asta snarled at the beast before her, she redoubled the energy she poured into her wards.
"You can do no harm here," she assured it, evenly. "Turn around now, creature, and I shall let you leave with your life."
The monster eyed the Witchling for a moment, before leaning forward and taking another step.
Asta's very blood turned to ice.
She watched in sheer horror as the Atraxi passed through her spellwork as if it didn't even exist.
She lowered her hands, taking a cautious step backwards as the beast came hulking her way. There is stood, in the centre of her magic - magic that should have obliterated any other living thing. It towered over her.
"Where are the paired?"
"But that's not possible," Reagan said calmly. "Everyone on Asgard, they can sense that I'm mortal. Asta could. Odin could. Loki... Loki can. I-I've gotten older since I got my powers. I have - it's been over five years, I can see it in myself."
"I know that, dear," Heika assured her. "And it's why I've called you here."
Reagan shook her head, confused.
"Because you're still holding yourself back," Heika told her calmly. "It's why I've needed to call to you. If been waiting for it to happen, the moment I'd feel it forge within you truly. I couldn't for the life of me understand why. It was as if you wouldn't entirely embrace it. As if, for whatever reason, you held it at arm's length. But then I realised - the way you feared it so - that all this time you've been holding yourself back intentionally. Living in that fear. I'm so sorry for it, dear."
"I don't understand."
Heika offered a kind smile.
"Tell me honestly, have you ever tested your powers to their full extent?"
A chill swept through Reagan at the question, goosebumps forming over every inch of her. Loki had asked her that very question not so long ago.
Why did you do that?
Do what?
You're holding yourself back. Why not push further? Show me what you're truly capable of, mortal.
I can't do that. It's not safe.
It hadn't been safe. She couldn't - wouldn't - risk hurting people the way she had that first day. She'd held it in. Kept it concealed. Controlled it as best she could. Never had she unleashed it fully - not even in New York, not even with the Dark Elves. She'd never fully set it free.
Not even when SHIELD had asked her to.
Loki, the one time they convinced me to test my limits at SHIELD they had to dowse me in liquid nitrogen because I was sucking all of the oxygen out of the facility and I was melting concrete. Do you know the melting point of concrete? It's about 2800 degrees Fahrenheit. You really think your stupid little Leviathan buddies would have come out the other side of that, butthead?
"Burn bright, dear," Heika said calmly. "And it will be yours."
There weren't words.
Even after she'd found her control. Even after Loki had helped her to see just how capable she was of wielding control over the flames - still, she'd never tested the limits.
Loki, it seemed, was reaching the same conclusion. His breathing had become slightly uneven. And even as he attempted to keep it shielded, she could feel a foreign kind of panic blooming in her. She looked at him, unsure... afraid... Not knowing what to do, or say. Her heart drummed in her chest. Adrenaline coursed through her. It was all too much - overwhelming. She didn't know what to do.
She didn't know what to do.
Loki stood suddenly, his chair toppled over behind him. He glowered at the woman with new and wild rage.
"If this is a trick--"
"It's no trick, Prince," Heika said. "It is a gift already given."
"Already given." He repeated coolly. "And what would you ask of me?" His voice was so terribly strained. "What would you have me give you in return?"
That thinly veiled desperation in his voice was enough to break Reagan's heart because she knew - she knew - Loki would give her anything. There would be no talking him down. No intercepting. In this moment, Loki belonged to the woman who sat opposite them - her slave. She could bid him to do whatever she willed, and he would bend to her.
She wished she'd never brought him to this place.
Loki, please-
Reagan attempted, but Loki wouldn't hear it. His attention fixed on Heika.
The old woman stood then, and moved slowly towards Loki. She hobbled forward. And Reagan stood too, staying close, ready to place herself between the two of them to keep him safe. Loki watched the woman wordlessly as she reached him, craning her neck to meet his eye.
"What would you ask of me?" Loki asked her once more.
Heika tutted, reaching and taking his hand.
"My boy... you've already given it."
Loki squinted at her, unsure.
Slow, terrified dread sunk into Reagan in that moment of uncertainty. She waited with bated breath for what Heika would say next.
"The only thing I regretted, coming to build my life here on Midgard, was having to leave her behind. But I knew that she'd be alright. After all, she still had my brother to watch over her. And whatever reason, the Prince of Asgard - Loki Odinson - had always treated her with such kindness, never once expecting anything in return."
"I'm not sure who..."
"She always spoke so highly of you, my mother," Heika smiled, squeezing his hand. "Though I suppose you'd know her as Sygran."
And the breath rushed out of Reagan's lungs and she watched the colour drain from Loki's face. He stared down at the woman, unable to speak.
"Treat her kindly," Heika said gently. "Take care of her where I no longer can. That is all I ask."
Reagan took a cautious step towards them.
"Though, if I may be so bold," Heika added as an amused afterthought. "I might also request that you refrain from any more invasions. On this planet, at least."
A surprised, manic kind of giggle burst from Reagan's lips then. She hadn't expected it - such an insane thing to think of with all the world-changing information Heika had just dumped upon them both.
Loki's attention suddenly snapped her way.
The look on his face - she'd never seen him look at her like that before. He looked... if Reagan hadn't known better, she would have thought he looked afraid. A chill swept through her, her heart clenching. His eyes were wild, fear and apprehension and uncertainty storming there.
he was terrified.
"Loki?" she said gently.
Reagan took a tentative step towards him but his entire frame visibly tensed - so impossibly rigid - as though he might actually flee from her. Reagan froze, watching him, unsure.
Loki... she called to him, trying to be gentle.
She received no response.
Unsure, she studied him. It was such a foreign feeling now, to be unsure of him. Neither of them moved, they just continued to stare at one another, neither sure of what to do.
It was then that Heika spoke once more.
"Why don't I give the two of you a few moments?" she said.
Reagan only nodded, her concerned gaze still fixed on Loki as she edged towards him cautiously. The old woman ambled slowly from the room as Loki and Reagan continued their strange and frightening staring match. Even after she'd made her way down the hall, leaving them in silence, Reagan only watched him. Her brow furrowed in concern.
He stared at her wildly, unblinking, as though he were worried that at any second she would spring and attack. Like he'd never really seen her before. It made Reagan want to cry.
Loki... It's okay. It's okay.
Slowly, she took a small, careful step towards him. A small wave of relief swept through her when, this time, he didn't flinch away. She reached out a hand. Slowly - so slowly - she moved to him, closing that painful distance. And all the while he watched her, guarded. But then, as she stood before him, and reached out slowly, her fingertips brushed against the back of his hand. It seemed to break him from his trance.
Loki loosed a shuddering breath, and with a slight tremor in his hands, he reached for her.
Reagan went to him gladly. Relief crashed through her as he let her touch him, draw into him - pull him closer. Her hands were on him. His were on her. And he held her as if she were made of glass.
"It's okay," she whispered.
Loki pressed his forehead to hers, and she cupped his face with a gentle, soothing touch.
It's okay, she promised him once more.
And it was then that Loki finally spoke, asking her the question he'd been afraid to ask from the moment he'd realised what Heika had given them. A question that had plagued him in secret as he had tried to find answers of his own. Because what if he had found it? What if he had found a way, and he had put it to her, and she answered 'no'?
One question.
The question.
He forced the words up his throat, knowing that her answer had the power to break him entirely.
"Is it what you would want?"
Notes:
<3 more soon!
Chapter 31
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Loki had lived a long time. He'd seen many things, faced many horrors. He'd known war and suffering. He'd known pain - unimaginable pain. He'd known loneliness. Hopelessness. Emptiness. He'd unknown himself - he'd come undone learning the truth of his lineage. He'd abandoned his home to the vast nothingness of space. He'd suffered at the hands of Thanos. He'd lost. And he'd lost. And he'd lost.
And through all of it, the thing he'd learned to fear more than anything else was hope.
Hope was dangerous.
A person could suffer - could learn to suffer. They could learn to endure it. To crawl through it, and come out the other side pretending that they still possessed something resembling a soul. A person could even become a shell - emptying out what once was inside so that they might just... exist through the horror.
This is one thing Loki had never quite managed to achieve. He'd never learned to empty himself. He'd learned to hide himself, learned to mask the endless storm that raged on within him. But he'd never figured out how to void himself of it all. And so he'd had to learn to live brokenly instead.
Because try as he might, he could never let go of that one thing he cursed with every breath he took - hope.
Hope left something alive. A light in the darkness - and exposure.
Hope was an chink in an impenetrable armour - cleaving it open and laying the wearer exposed, vulnerable to decimation.
Hope meant that no matter how tall one might build their defences - no matter how one might attempt to steel themselves for the worst - the universe still had a way to break you.
Hope left a way in.
Hope was weakness.
Hope was fatal.
And Loki had been a slave to it since the moment he'd gazed into an orb and glimpsed the future - learned the existence of a girl made of fire. He endured centuries of what he believed to be empty hope that he could become more than whatever he was that this woman was going to loathe on sight.
And when he found her at last, and that prophecy had come to fruition - well, it was strange, how one year compared to hundreds. How time could shift and bend and moments could start to feel like a lifetime. Perhaps it was because he'd been trapped in a cell - condemned to spend eternity isolated and alone - that every little, unexpected moment he got with her felt longer, calmer - more right - than anything else had felt in such a very long time.
Maybe it was because it felt like the next chapter. Loki had been in the before of finding her for so very long, and then suddenly found himself in the after. And he'd told himself not to hope. He'd willed himself not to be weak. Because hope was deadly. Hope could lead only to pain.
But every time she looked at him...
Every time she smiled.
Each time he made her laugh.
Every single time she came back.
There it was.
Hope.
At the start, it had driven him to bitterness and anger and cruelty.
Until slowly, over time, hope had somehow managed to morph into something else, like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis.
Hope became the beginning of something - a flower, blooming to life within the thickets - just a small green, insignificant-looking bud at first that exploded into a plume of glorious colour.
Hope became warm and welcome - the first blades of sunlight cutting across an orange and purple sky as the sunrise first peeked beyond mountains in the distance.
Hope... hope became fire.
And that's where he was now.
On fire.
Loki wondered if this was what his mortal felt like when she burned.
He was certain this moment was the closest he'd ever come to experiencing it - this hope that burned so brightly within him that felt like strength when really it should incinerate him entirely.
Because against all odds - against what he'd tried so desperately to prepare himself for - that mortal lifespan of hers, there was a way for her to stay. They could stop the sands of time, just turn that hourglass on its side and... walk away from it. Together.
Here it was - a gift, handed to him on a platter. A gift, no less, that he wouldn't have to steal away from the universe. No, this was offered freely, in exchange for nothing more than kindness he'd offered for want of nothing. It seemed a rather inconceivable thing.
So much so, in fact, that it filled him with fear. A breathtaking kind of fear. One like Loki had never dared to believe could exist.
Everything Loki had ever wanted, wrapped up in one strange, stubborn, infuriating, wonderful little mortal.
Love and acceptance and safety and home.
But the thing was, he'd never asked her. Loki couldn't bring himself to even mention her mortality, how rapidly the few short decades he'd have with her would pass before he'd watch her fade away. And so he couldn't bring himself to ask her if she'd want to stay with him if he ever found a way to keep her. Because it would have meant facing the reality that such a thing was near impossible.
And certain as he was that this revelation held unimaginable gravity to Reagan, he knew full well this meant more to him. Because he was the one who would have to be left behind. He was the one who had had to carry that hope. He was the one who had had to wait. To endure. The before and the after.
Her wanting of him was new.
And he was all too aware of how long and desperately she had desired something else.
And if she chose that - the something else - he could accept that, he told himself, fully aware that it was a blatant lie. He could watch her be happy. That could be enough for him. So long as she permitted him to remain by her side where he sorely longed to be.
Because Loki had already sworn an oath to himself - he swore that if he found a way to extend her lifespan, he swore to himself that he would not force it upon her. He'd leave it to be her choice.
Loki was under no illusion about his capacity for selfishness. It had driven him to do such hateful things in his past. He'd sullied things, made them dirty. Loki didn't want to act hatefully when it came to Reagan. Not her. She was something so... good. He wanted to love her selflessly. Even though he wanted to behave so very, very selfishly when it came to keeping her.
And so he was going to keep his oath. He was going to let her choose.
And that is why - though he'd never expected this day to be that day, and he was so unimaginably unprepared to face the answer - he forced that question up his throat and past his lips.
"Is it what you would want?" he asked her.
And never before had he felt more breakable. Like he were made of glass. Never - not ever - had another person had more power over him. Because in that moment, it was as though every last molecule of him was forged for hope.
He watched as her brow knitted together as if the question confused her.
And she was looking up at him so gently, in this moment that was supposed to be about her, she sought to comfort him still. Because this... it was too much. This he couldn't contain. And she could feel it, no matter how he tried to conceal it from the bond - Reagan felt the force of it. Terrible guilt pulled in his chest.
And perhaps it was selfish of him, but he couldn't stand it, and he was trying with everything he had in him.
"Is it what I'd want?" Reagan repeated in a whisper.
Her hands were rested on him - tightened a little in response, anchoring him.
"She speaks of you," Loki began, taking a shaky breath in an attempt to banish the quake of emotions from his words, "as if you're some prize she can bestow upon me. That's not what you are. You're not some gift she can hand to me for deeds I've done. This isn't up to me-- It's not up to her."
Reagan ran her hand gently over his chest as he spoke, as if trying to soothe the ache there.
He could feel the confusion in her, the way she couldn't quite understand his distress. The way she was trying to soothe the bond - she was trying to be so achingly gentle with him. He could hardly bear it.
"I know how you feel about your powers," Loki said at last, and loosed another shuddering breath.
The truth he was so afraid of, out there in the open. Perhaps this strange woman supposed she was offering up the gift of immortality, when really, what she presented instead was Reagan to be free of powers she'd been trapped and tormented by for all these years. He saw it instantly, in the way her expression shifted - that she hadn't realised it yet, but his words were enough to draw her to that same conclusion. A chance at freedom.
"If..." Loki forced himself to speak again. "Reagan, if you want her to take them back instead - if you want to be rid of them, then I'll make her do it. I'll make her free you. I won't- I won't ask you to endure something that I know you've loathed, not even a moment longer. If you'd rather be rid of your burden and live a mortal life... I'll make her undo it."
Reagan looked up at him - saw the anguish in his features, but she could see it that he meant what he said. Despite the fact he'd started searching - looking for a way to make her immortal. It sounded like such an impossible thing. And yet Loki... there were so many things about him that seemed impossible - should have been impossible. And now that he'd found it - a way to keep her from having to age and wither and leave him all alone again - he was willing to throw that chance away for her. If she asked that of him, then he'd do it. He'd help her to be... normal again. She could return to an ordinary life. Where she fit. Where she could belong amongst the crowd. Where she didn't have to be afraid that she was a bomb. He could let her go to give her a chance to feel like that again. Her heart clenched almost painfully. She'd never even imagined being loved like that.
"You'd do that for me?" she asked, softly and she moved just a little closer to him.
And Loki had to drop her gaze then, because he was afraid that what he'd heard in her voice was hope. And if it were, then he'd have to make good on that offer. And he would. He'd do just that. And he'd find a way to hide his own anguish. Learn to live in that pain - it wouldn't be the first time he'd had to do such a thing.
Loki nodded, unable to put voice to it as he stared down at her hand on him.
They stood in silence for a moment as Loki allowed her to contemplate. He couldn't bring himself to look at her though he could feel the way she studied him.
"Can I tell you something?" she murmured.
"Yes, anything."
"I was scared she was going to ask for it back."
Almost against his will, Loki's eyes flicked upward to hers, uncertain, to find her watching him with a gentle, understanding sort of smile.
"As soon as she told us that it had come from her, I started to worry that she'd called me here because it was time to give it back. And I didn't want to," Reagan's expression turned pained, wetting her eyes just a little. "I realised I wanted to keep it. Because it feels like mine now. It's mine, and I don't want to give it away anymore. I can't tell you how... incredible that was."
Loki remained silent, watched her as she spoke as his heart began to thunder in his chest.
"I'd been afraid of it for so long," Reagan continued. "You know all this, obviously... That I was so angry that it had happened to me - that I felt like I was cursed. I hated it about myself... I guess, I just-- I didn't realise that, over time, I found a way to accept it as a part of myself. It stopped being something that I needed to fight or hide or suppress. It wasn't something wrong with me anymore... it was just... a part of me. A part of me that I didn't realise until today, that I'd started to love."
She inclined her head a little as she smiled up at him.
"You did that, you know," she told him.
Loki loosed a small, wet laugh and shook his head.
"Reagan, you did that," he insisted gently.
"You had a lot to do with it. A lot, Loki. You have to know that," she said. "I spent so long feeling lost and alone. Thinking that I wanted normal. There was just this longing in me. From the moment I first woke up burning, I had a longing. I thought it was to undo it. To be free. The thing is... that feeling started fading away whenever I was with you. And now? That feeling isn't in me anymore."
"It's not?"
Reagan shook her head and Loki felt a pull along the bond, coaxing him to it.
"See for yourself," she said with a small, simple shrug of her shoulders.
And with as much self-control as he was capable of, Loki took the permission and delved into the bond. Into her. He moved with caution - near reverence - as he searched. Despite wanting to claw it apart - to search tooth and nail for any shadow of doubt that he was so sure he was going to find in her.
But there was nothing of the sort to be found. A cacophony of emotions whirled within her wildly. But not doubt. Not about her fire. Not about him.
Emotion gripped at his throat as he drew back into himself and met her eye once more.
"Besides," she said gently, reaching to card her fingers through his hair. "I made you a promise. I told you I wasn't going to leave you."
"No. No... This can't be for me, Reagan. I--"
"Hey," she hushed him gently. "Listen to me. It's okay. I want it. Of course, I want it."
And he couldn't bear it, had to lean in to press his lips to hers. So hard it was almost painful. As if he were trying to breathe her in. And as he pulled her closer to him, she moved willingly, melting into him. Her arms laced around his neck gently as he clutched her to him desperately.
"I want it. I want you," she promised when their lips parted. "I want to be with you. Loki, I want to stay with you."
As her promises washed over him, soothing wounds that hadn't had the chance to open, Loki held her tight to him, his face buried in her hair. He forced himself to breathe, revelling in the feeling of her fingernails scratching lightly against his scalp as she carded her fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him. Moments passed and they each fell silent, savouring the proximity of the other - the warmth they offered.
"Are you sure you think this is a good idea though?" Reagan asked when she eventually broke their gentle silence, a hint of amusement in her voice. "It'll mean that you won't be able to fall back on my old age if you get sick of me."
Loki couldn't keep a pained noise from escaping him.
"That's not funny," he managed to squeeze out.
"Isn't it? Sorry," she murmured with a meek sort of smile. "I don't really have a read on the vibe right now cause this whole concept is kind of completely terrifying."
Perhaps it was the fact that she'd managed to calm him that she now had room for panic of her own. Loki could feel it rising within her.
"Terrifying?" Loki asked, unsure.
"I mean, yeah? Don't look at me like that, you're freaking out, too!"
Loki's expression shifted to something mildly indignant.
"I am not 'freaking out.'"
"You absolutely are."
Loki shook his head, he reached up to tuck her hair gently behind her ear.
"Not about this. Not about you saying yes..."
Reagan softened as she gazed up at him a little pained as she felt through the bond just how sincerely he meant that. She swore if she wasn't careful around him, Loki had the means to make her heart give out entirely.
"Okay..." she said shakily. "But you're not-- you're not afraid you'll get tired of me?"
Loki laughed, a tragic, heartbreaking sound.
"You're ridiculous."
"No, I'm not."
"It's the last thing I'm concerned about, Reagan."
"Shouldn't you be though? Have you thought about, like, buyer's remorse?"
And that was it - the moment - where he truly was steadied again. Certain. Everything else washed away and Loki was left feeling like them. Just them. As they had been in a prison cell below Asgard. And in a swirling sandstorm on a dying planet. And alone in a log cabin on Vanaheim by the light of a fireplace. Two thoroughly differing forms of chaos that shouldn't have worked - that should have led to utter disaster - and yet, somehow balanced perfectly. Equaling to calm. Again and again. His peculiar mortal. Somehow calming him in her chaos. Forever doing the opposite of what he expected.
Surprising him.
And she wanted it. She wanted to stay. Loki gazed down at her, as a familiar confused amusement swirled up within him all at once, smothering out the fear.
"What is buyer's remorse?" he asked at last, barely concealing a smile.
With her own panic brewing, Reagan didn't seem to detect this newfound calm settling over him.
"It's like--okay, you know when you want a new car? And you save and you save and you save - for ages - until you can finally afford it?"
It was apparent to him that Reagan had momentarily forgotten that Loki was an insufferably wealthy, royal immortal from a planet with technology far advanced beyond the use of 'cars.' He decided it wasn't exactly prudent to point that out.
"And so you buy the car," she continued, "and you're so excited to finally get it. But then you're driving home from the dealership, alone, in this stupid hunk of metal that you just dished out thousands of dollars for and so this little voice in your head just starts nagging at you like 'Oh my fucking God, this so wasn't worth it. I can't believe I wasted all that money on this. What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?'"
"Darling, I hardly see this being a problem that would arise," Loki interjected, teasingly. "I haven't any need for a car."
She let out an exasperated huff.
"Look, I don't know the proper word for it, okay? I don't know the relationship term for it. Or-or the person equivalent for it. But it's like... Loki, I'm new and exciting and shiny to you, right now, right? And you're really into me because you think I'm only going to be around for a little while. It's like Heika said - I'm fleeting. And so maybe I'm more special to you than I really am, you know?"
Loki did not know at all. He smiled down at her as he watched her ramble - caught up in her tangent. More special. His mortal. It was so unfathomable to him that she had grown so used to people leaving her. They'd needed to find one another. He saw it clearer in that moment than ever before. He'd known just how desperately he'd needed her. He'd been broken - filled with nothing but rage and hate. So convinced that this life held nothing more for him than solitude and disappointment. He'd needed her to bring him back to the light - to find himself once more.
But now, he could see it, that she truly needed him in return. She'd said it. She'd meant it. But now, he could see it himself.
How impossible a thing it seemed to him that this mortal of his had ever - even for a single second - felt unlovable. That she could even entertain the idea he'd ever want to be rid of her. He'd devote the rest of his days to undoing that damage - to helping her unlearn it.
Just as she was trying to do for him.
"And now," Reagan continued, "you get this chance to have me longer than you expected, so you're like 'Oh, this is great!' Except then it turns out that it's not great because then I'm just there. All the time. And I'm always going to be there. And maybe you realise I'm not quite as exciting as you thought. Maybe I become boring or tedious or something, I don't know. And then you're just stuck with me and you can't--"
Loki ran his fingers along the curve of her jaw, guiding her face up to his as he leaned in to press his lips against hers, silencing her, the way he loved to do most. Swallowing her words. Her doubts. Reagan made a rather small, half-hearted sound of protest, even as her eyes fell shut and her body curved in closer to his.
And Loki opened the bond between them, let it flood - near overwhelmingly - with sheer adoration.
I love you, he told her. I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
"You're utterly insane," he told her, amused, once their mouths parted and he drew back to look at her, still cupping her face with one hand.
"I'm actually making a valid point," Reagan insisted, though her voice sounded smaller now, as if in that moment she didn't fully believe it herself as she leaned into her touch.
"Not this time, I'm afraid," Loki replied. "Not on this matter. Reagan, trust me. I can think of nothing better than to be thoroughly and undoably stuck with you."
She couldn't help but duck her head, blushing as she laughed a little.
"You say that now, but..."
"But I've yet to convince you entirely?"
Reagan couldn't quite bring herself just to voice it, so instead she gave him a small nod.
And despite that, Loki smiled at her softly. He hooked his finger beneath her chin, guiding her back to him as he kissed her once more.
"Then watch me prove it."
Reagan let out a sigh as Loki's forehead pressed to hers.
"Stay with me," he whispered, his eyes closed.
And as he felt Reagan's head nod gently against his, warmth flooded through him.
The bond was alive now - a brilliant, bright thing. Full of hope and excitement and happiness. There was fear there too - her fear - and so Loki cupped it, coated it, protected it, rather than any attempt to smother it.
"Stay with me," he repeated.
And with all the storming emotions that raged and dazzled and danced along the bond, there was also peace there too.
"I will," she murmured back at last, a slow smile blooming upon her features.
The bond hummed, blindingly bright.
"Stay with me," he said again.
And Reagan felt as though she might burst.
"I will."
"Forever."
"Forever."
"Even when I inevitably find a way to drastically make a mess of things and earn your unparalleled wrath."
"Even when I, no doubt, have to thwart your plans to steal a throne again."
Loki hummed his approval.
"Even after I endure years upon years of ceaseless - and, on occasion, unanswerable - questions about everything in existence."
"Even if I assault you with so many Earth-based references that you'll slowly lose your grip on your own reality and forget you're not actually Midgardian?"
Loki laughed gently, nodding still.
"Even then."
"I mean it," Reagan said, warningly. "I'm even going to teach you memes."
"Do your worst, mortal," he murmured.
"You'll be saying things like 'yolo' by the time I'm done with you."
"I can assure you with all the confidence I possess that won't be the case."
"Alright, but don't go putting any money on that. You'll lose it."
"I adore you."
Reagan beamed at him, before hesitating just a little.
"But I... I need something," she said.
"Anything."
"If I need to... if I need to burn, I need you to find a place where I can do it safely," she told him, growing a little solemn. "I have no idea how hot it's going to get or how big my flames might actually grow. I don't want to risk hurting anyone else. I won't risk hurting you."
"We'll find something," Loki promised.
She breathed a sigh of relief and let her head fall to rest against his shoulder.
It was at that exact moment that Reagan felt a strange impatience in him. She drew back to look up at him, concerned. His entire body seemed to be tensing.
"What's wrong?"
"It's Asta," he all but snarled. "She's trying to draw us back."
Reagan's brows drew together. As soon as he spoke the words Reagan felt it too, the aching lure of a foreign magic. It was subtle. Like a strange longing, but the moment she became aware of it she could feel the way it would grow until it was all-consuming. Her brow furrowed then.
"She said we had two hours," she murmured to him.
Loki only scoffed. "I'm hardly surprised that she'd try to short-change us."
"Maybe something's wrong?"
"With Asta? I hardly know where to begin."
"Loki," Reagan chided.
As if on cue, they heard a slow shuffling from the hallway. The pair turned, Loki's hands still resting on Reagan's waist, to find Heika reentering the room, a knowing expression on her face as if she'd sensed her guests preparing to take their leave. Reagan drew away from Loki then, and he let her go, willingly, watching as she moved toward the older woman.
"Heika," she said gently, taking hold of her hands. "What you've given to me... I can't--I'll never be able to repay you for it."
Heika touched her face with the gentle affection only a mother is capable of.
"There is nothing to repay, sweet girl. Just be happy. Just be happy."
There was one more question. One that Reagan needed to ask, even though it felt like such a cruel thing to bring up after Heika had bestowed them with such an unrepayable gift. But she had to know
"You said... you said Jonas 'was'..." Reagan said, not quite able to finish the sentence. Not quite willing. "When did he..."
Reagan's throat tightened, she couldn't say the words. Heika squeezed her hands reassuringly.
"I lost him in the winter," Heika answered, and Reagan couldn't stop her expression from crumbling but Heika shook her head. "It's alright, dear. I'll be with him again soon enough. It's part of why I've called to you now."
"What do you mean?" Reagan asked, already sensing the answer.
Heika's smile was gentle, accepting.
"Cancer, stage four. I've refused the treatment. These old bones of mine aren't built for the recovery process anymore."
"Heika... wha--you can't-"
"Hush, sweet girl," she cupped Reagan's face soothingly. "You needn't pity me. Jonas is waiting for me when I go, I can still feel a whisper of him there. I've lived a wonderful life, my darling. Emilie and Nora have four younger siblings, all grown. I have eighteen grandchildren. And twenty-nine great grand-children - and counting. I've watched my family grow and thrive. I've lived a life of indescribable happiness. I promise you that."
She smiled at Loki over Reagan's shoulder.
"I think it's high time the two of you did the same."
Loki stared back at Heika, emotions storming in his gaze, though that hate he had entered her home with was nowhere to be seen. He desperately wanted to put it into words - what it meant to him, this gift of hers - but he found that there was nothing - nothing - he'd ever be able to say to do his gratitude justice.
Slowly, Loki brought his fist up to his chest, resting it over his heart, before lowering himself into a reverent bow before the old woman. A prince of Asgard, bowing to a commoner. Reagan was sure that she didn't fully understand the weight of such a gesture, but watching as Heika inclined her head to him in return - there was something about that unspoken exchange that made her throat tighten with emotion.
When Loki righted himself once more he looked Reagan's way. He opened his mouth momentarily to speak but then appeared to think the better of it.
What is it? Reagan asked.
Something is wrong, Loki said, his features darkening. We need to go.
You don't still think that Heika is--
No, Loki interjected. No, not here... Asta's urging is growing stronger. She wouldn't do so lightly. She wouldn't risk the years she bartered from me.
"I'm so, so happy to have gotten to meet you," Heika said to Reagan, smiling warmly. "I waited so very long."
She seemed to hesitate before she drew Reagan into her, wrapping her arms around her and hugging her tightly. It surprised Reagan, causing her to pause for just a second before she wrapped her arms around this strange, familiar woman who had given her a gift she'd never be able to repay.
Tears stung her eyes as the woman squeezed her just a little tighter - it reminded her of the way her mother used to hug her. Reagan was so swept up in the tenderness of it all that she almost missed the words Heika whispered into her ear.
"Burn the poison out, dear."
Reagan pulled back to look at her, confused. When her eyes locked with Heika's again, something in her gaze had changed, as if Heika were staring... into her, and yet, beyond her all at once.
"What?" Reagan managed to whisper, watching the way the woman watched her.
But just as quickly as the trance had settled over, it seemed to dissipate. And as Heika's smile returned, she cupped Reagan's face in a gesture of farewell then moved past her and towards Loki. Loki's gaze remained on her, still slightly uncertain. But when Heika beckoned him forward, Loki leaned in, allowing the old woman to whisper in his ear.
Reagan studied his face as the old woman whispered to him, and it was unreadable. She prodded at the bond then, but whatever words were spoken to him, Loki kept them concealed. Her brow furrowed just a little as she watched the way he concealed his reaction from her, the way he studied the old woman with rekindled mistrust.
But then he looked at her, and the strange tension in the moment eased. Loki moved towards Reagan, his hand coming to settle comfortingly - groundingly - at the small of her back.
"Run along then," Heika told them. "Onto the next adventure."
And the portal opened then - almost desperately - as if it were that exact millisecond that it was given permission to do so. The urge to pass through it suddenly threatened to overwhelm her. No longer just an annoying niggling at the back of her mind, no, now it was almost something primitive within her, a survival instinct. And yet she knew it was so very, very wrong. Reagan glanced up at Loki's face, his already gaze fixed upon the portal, as though he'd known exactly where to expect it. And Reagan couldn't help but to wonder how much power Loki had had to devote to holding back the force of Asta's magic so that she could listen to Heika's tale and process what she was being told in that dingy little mortal kitchen.
Her gaze flickered to Heika then, and she was stunned to find the woman had turned away, retreating slowly up the creaky hallway she'd led them down not so long ago, as if she wasn't even aware a hole in space had been cleaved open in her very kitchen.
"What did she say to you?" Reagan murmured under her breath to Loki, beside her.
"Later," Loki promised, his jaw set tight.
Confused, Reagan's eyes trailed down his profile, they fell to the veins in his neck. Her eyes widened at the sight; they were utterly bulging. Veins and muscles, corded, strained beneath his skin. Beads of sweat trickled from his brow. As if he were fighting for his life. The hand at the small of her back nudged her encouragingly and Reagan wanted to protest - knew that she ought to - but her feet seemed to move of their own accord.
As soon as they passed through the gate, back into the musty atmosphere of a cobwebbed tavern on the other side of the universe, Reagan knew it was a mistake. A deadly one.
The colour drained from her face the second her eyes fell on Asta. She wasn't standing there waiting for them with that smarmy smile on her features as she had expected. She wasn't lounging in her chair sorting through that macabre pile of bones she'd seemed so fascinated by.
No.
Instead, she was on her knees.
Horror swelled within Reagan as she took in the sight. The witching wasn't just kneeling, she was folded in half, her chest pressed to her thighs. Her hands were bound behind her back, so tightly her hands had blued. Heavy chains bound her body to the floor, pinned her into that humiliating posturing. Beside her, two towering figures flanked her, as if they'd been waiting. Creatures - there was no better word for it - with the most inhuman faces Reagan had ever gazed upon. Fleshy holes where a mouth should be, lidless eyes and skin that rippled and shifted and hypnotised as though it were alive, ink black, cracking open to reveal an underlayer of orange flesh that reminded her vaguely of lava.
As she felt a sharp pain in her neck, Reagan gasped. Her hand flew up to find a foreign body there. A... dart of some sort. Dread filled her. She'd seen enough movies to know she'd just been tranqued and instantly her lucidity began to slip.
Beside her, Loki roared in outrage - in protest - but her head seemed foggy and he seemed so far away, as if time around her was beginning to slow.
"Is it them?" One beast snarled in an impossibly low rumble.
"It is," the other answered. "Take them."
"And the witch?"
"She's of no use to us now. Kill her."
"No!" Asta screamed. "No, wait! Please! I gave them to you. I gave you what you wanted! Just let me go! Please, just let me go!"
The creatures ignored her.
Asta loosed a desperate, outraged shriek. She let loose a wave of impossible, stifling power but the beast just stood among it as if it were nothing more than a gentle Autumn breeze. The one given the order stepped toward her, vibrant crevices of shades of red and orange rippled beneath midnight skin as it raised a blade high above the Witchling's head.
"A curse on you, Odinson!" she shrieked at Loki, who still struggled hopelessly against the clutches upon him even as the serum began to steal consciousness away from him.
"A curse on you for bringing this to my doorstep!" Asta screamed. "I'll make you pay for this! I'll make you bleed! I'll make you burn! Do you hear me, Loki? I will make you b-"
It was the last words she uttered before the creature brought down its massive blade and cleaved Asta's head clean from her body. And Reagan would have screamed at the sight, had the final grasp of consciousness she was clinging to slipped from her fingers.
As her legs gave out and she began to collapse, large hands - so calloused they felt like stone - caught hold of her, cutting her fall short. As her head lulled to the side and her vision faded at the edges, the last thing Reagan saw was Asta's headless corpse slumping lifeless upon the wooden floorboards. A sickening dread managed to swell within her in those final moments as her eyes fell upon the stump that, just moments ago had served as Asta's neck. Where there should have been blood and viscera and tissue, a dark, impossible hole yawned open in its place - strange unlights, dancing in the darkness. It was emptiness, a void, sulking, pulling, collapsing in on itself. Reagan watched helplessly, as Asta's body began to shrink in on itself, collapsing into the void of itself - becoming that void.
And as Reagan slipped away into darkness, she was sure she could still hear the Witchling's screams.
Notes:
...heyyyy hahaha I'm so sorry I disappeared for so long! Guys, writer's block hit HARD and with moving and all the rest of it I was just in a big ol' burn out. I just needed to step away for a few weeks. It was a way bigger break than I wanted to take.
But I'm home alone tonight! And I've had a couple of glasses of wine and I thought 'damn it, I gotta update. it's time' so this chap might get a bit of a face lift this week (grammar and possibly missing sentences and whatnot, not storyline) but I just wanted to post and let you know I'm still here and committed to finishing this story.
Speaking of, book one will be wrapping up soon, but chapter 1 of book 2 is ready to go, picking up basically where this one leaves off. I can't wait to post it, I've written some stinkin' cute scenes for you all.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. Next update will be MUCH quicker. Pinky swear :P
Also if you've started the new season of Loki, no spoilers pls I haven't had a chance yet!
Love you all :)
Chapter 32
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
**TRIGGER WARNING** for this chapter in the end note (to avoid spoilers.) This chapter has some pretty messed up themes so I encourage you to take a quick look if you're concerned, also I wrote a quick explainer of need-to-know events in the chapter so you can move on to the next one without missing anything important.
A sickening pain seared its way through Reagan's skull and brought her back to a groggy state of consciousness many hours later. She winced against it and the moment she moved, every muscle in her body sang out in protest. It hurt. Everything hurt. She moved to stretch her limbs in an attempt to ease some of her discomfort.
She froze. Her eyes shot open.
Reagan felt the colour draining from her face as she looked down to find her wrists manacled to the cold, steel chair she was seated in. She tried moving her feet but her ankles were the same. Biting metal. Clasped so painfully tight around her limbs that she could feel it cutting into her circulation. She tugged against the restraints, already knowing it was useless. She hissed as the action only served to jolt pain through her joints.
She sucked in a deep, quivering breath and it was only then that she noticed the putrid stench of bodies staining the air.
And it was then that she realised they were chanting.
It surrounded her. Low and rhythmic and somehow... animal. Beastly.
Slowly, Reagan raised her head, surveying her surroundings. What she saw made her blood run cold. The chair she was manacled at the centre of a strange, dark amphitheatre. Surrounding her were rows of stands, rising in grandeur the higher and further back they went. Every level was populated with creatures identical to the ones that had been waiting for her and Loki when they had returned through Asta's portal.
They were chanting.
Two hundred of them, at least.
And every last one of them had their gaze fixed upon her.
When Reagan thought of dread - of what it felt like in its rawest forms - three distinct times in her life came to mind. The first was when her mother sat her down at the age of eighteen and told her for the first time that she was sick. The second was when she'd woken up naked and alone, totally engulfed in flames in a strange, remote field in Norway. And the third was when she'd watched a wormhole to the other side of the universe open up above New York and spew forth a legion of enemies that wanted them all dead.
Those moments. Those awful, soul-shattering moments... they paled in comparison to the way it felt when she then heard Loki scream her name. The way it ripped from his throat, pained and ragged, as if he'd been doing it for hours. Trying to coax her awake - to know that she was even still alive.
Her head snapped in his direction, toward the other end of the stage, and a sob burst from her lips.
He was on his knees.
Crude, heavy shackles were clamped tightly around his wrists, around his neck.
His tunic had been torn away and slashes of crusted blood now adorned his chest, his arms and - she suspected - his back. It looked as though he'd been flogged into submission. Or rather, that's what they'd been attempting to do. From the way he strained against his chains - tried to move even an inch closer to her - it seemed they hadn't quite managed it yet.
Tears clouded her vision of him but she couldn't look away.
"Loki," she whimpered, her fingers strained as though reaching for him, but the manacles held her resolutely in place.
She couldn't move.
She couldn't move.
"Reagan, it's alright," Loki called to her, trying desperately to hold her attention as he watched the panic bloom in her.
And her heart ached painfully in her chest as her expression crumpled. She shook her head hopelessly as she held his gaze - held onto the only thing she had to ground her.
"It's going to be alr-"
"Silence!"
Loki's reassurances were cut short when one of the creatures flanking him brought the butt of its weapon down hard into Loki's temple. The force of the blow rocked him, forcing him to collapse forward. Loki grunted as he tried to right himself back to his knees, struggling against the chains. Before he could pull himself up, rough, violent hands took hold of him and forced him back into a position of submission.
"Stop it!" Reagan screamed as she struggled against her bindings, but all it earned was a smack across the face.
She hadn't even realised she'd been flanked by the creatures herself.
Roughly, one of the beasts grabbed a fistful of her hair and forced her head to the side.
The instant that the length of her neck was exposed she felt the sharp sting of another needle and a fresh wave of nausea and drowsiness instantly overtook her. She heard Loki roar in protest, and the blunt-force noise of him taking another blow. The world around her seemed to spin on an axis and the edge of her vision began to blur. This time the drug wasn't as strong - not enough to knock her out like the first time, but enough to mute the tether between her and Loki down to a mere whisper. She reached for it all the same, even the muted presence of him was something.
I'm here, she told him, unsure if he could even hear her. I love you. Please, know that...
As her head grew heavy and her chin lulled down onto her chest, Loki let loose another rage-filled roar. The air sizzled with magic. Reagan lifted her head just enough to watch as brilliant green energy coiled up him. He was fighting with everything he had. Chained and beaten and on his knees, he was fighting.
His efforts were only met with another lashing and a needle jabbed into his neck.
A booming cheer from their audience sounded in response.
Another sob swelled in Reagan's throat.
It was then that another of the creatures stepped out into the amphitheatre. A large, hulking thing that had the air of a General. It moved with authority, eyed the others as if daring any one of them to step out of line. None did. In fact, a hush fell over the spectators as he made his way across the stage, his gaze fixed upon Reagan. Its skin seemed thicker than the rest, it still rippled open as it moved, revealing the underlayer of secondary flesh, but it moved in far more solid pieces, as if halfway turned to stone.
It looked... indestructible.
Closer and closer, the Atraxi moved closer to her, until they were toe to toe, and he stood, looming over her. She managed to lift her head to meet his eye. That simple action caused the creature to scowl in disgust. He leaned in closer to her - dangerously close - inspecting her features. And Reagan recoiled at the rancid smell of rot it seemed to bring with it. She tried to summon the energy to lash out - to do some kind of damage to the creature while she had the chance - but the sedative they'd just pumped into her veins made it nearly impossible to even keep her eyes open, let alone to attack.
The General seemed to detect exactly that, a sneer marred its features.
"Let's begin," he growled before turning away from Reagan to address the on-lookers.
"Atraxis!" he roared at them and was answered by a symphony of howls and cheers.
This lasted for almost a full minute before the creatures fell silent once more, waiting for the General to speak again.
"Eons ago," he growled, stalking along the platform, "the Atraxis were a mighty race. Our strength was unrivalled by anything that existed in all the universe. We were supreme. Unparalleled. And feared by all. The universe was ours to conquer."
The General raised his fist into the air, and his audience once again fell silent. Reagan managed to lift her head to take in the sight of them again - their anticipation was palpable. Broad chests heaved, meaty hands twitched eagerly. Whatever was coming, they'd been waiting for it. Waiting for a long time.
"Our people were poised to go forth and conquer," the General called out. "To irradicate any other force that might stand even a chance at usurping our place as the apex species of this universe. We believed that nothing could stop us... Until The Sickness came."
A chorus of anguished screeches rang out from the audience.
"The Sickness laid waste to our people. To our lands. It eviscerated our livestock. Took our crops. It crippled even our mightiest warriors. It stole from us our children."
The General turned to spare Reagan what she could only read as a look of utter disgust.
"And it rendered our females infertile."
Outraged cries rang out once again and a chill swept through Reagan's gut. She tugged uselessly at her restraints once again.
"One percent," the General went on, turning his attention away from Reagan and back to his audience. "One percent of our females could continue to bear young. We had no other choice than to put them to work, attempting to replenish our decimated numbers. It was our hope that the generation they bore would be free of the burden of illness the Sickness left behind, but alas, the generation bore by the First were even weaker than those first gripped by the Sickness."
Loki? Reagan called down the bond. Even in her own mind, her voice sounded sluggish.
He didn't reply. Perhaps he couldn't.
The bond felt wrong - muted. Whatever concoction of poisons coursed through their veins was enough to dull the link. But it was still there. And Reagan clutched onto it with everything she had. She prayed that he could feel her.
She wanted - needed - to hear his voice more than anything else in the world in that moment.
She lulled her head to look his way to find his face had paled, he watched on in horror as the General continued to speak.
"Our people kept dying," he went on. "The females who could bear calves kept dying - either overworked or taken by other ailments The Sickness left in its wake."
Another sizzle of magic coursed through the atmosphere then - it was stronger this time, there was something more desperate to it. It earned him another clubbing.
Reagan squeezed her eyes shut, unable to bear the sight of him taking another lashing - another needle jabbed into his neck.
"He's metabolising the sedative too fast," the creature pumping sedative into him growled.
"Be careful how much of that shit you pump into him," the one beside him grunted in return. "If you kill him before the ceremony, who knows what the Mother'll do to you."
"I've never seen an Asgardian with such a strong resistance to it."
The creature leaned over Loki, inhaled deeply and growled.
"Whatever this thing is," he snarled. "It's no Asgardian. Stinks of something else."
The beast beside him grunted.
"No matter. Not like it's us who's gotta eat it."
Low, throaty laughter filled the air. And bile rose up Reagan's throat as she remembered... Remembered what Odin and Frigga had told her about the Atraxis that first day in Asgard. It felt like a lifetime ago. Reagan had barely registered it - had been largely unphased by this faceless threat off somewhere out there in the universe. It had hardly seemed important when her mind was being invaded. When she'd been ripped from her home. When she spent her every waking moment trying to rid herself of a tether she'd never asked for.
But now they were here.
The Atraxis.
The things she was warned to fear above all else.
And the stories that she'd heard of them were coming back to her, laced with a fresh horror like nothing she'd ever known before.
A tear slipped down her face.
"Seventy-two," the General growled to his soldiers. "We were left with seventy-two serviceable females. Seventy-two to carry on our legacy. To try to continue our race."
He turned his withering gaze towards Loki.
"And then the Asgardian came."
Even in her stupor, Reagan's brow drew together in confusion.
"She's renowned throughout the universe today as a Goddess," the General told them, his voice brimming with disgust. "She's called a saviour. What she did to us... is referred to as a gift. She is worshipped. Legions of fools still crave her curse to this day. They pray for it.
"Her name was Kaha. She could reach into a being and know what should have been unknowable. She could invade the mind, weigh what was there - they had the nerve to call it a soul. An essence. She leeched from every being she came into contact with. Until finally she found what she wanted on Atraxia.
"The Stolen Womb. She was young when the witch took her - branded her with that foul mark. She was strong for one born after the Sickness. She could have helped us rebuild. The seventy-third. But the Asgardian came and she put her brand upon her and marked her as her own. She stole her away from us and the universe rejoiced."
Outrage thundered through the audience and this time The General allowed them to revel in it. He hung his head as if telling the tale nearly broke him. As if he were suffering through it. The General waited patiently until the excited cries slowly died away.
"Seventy-two. Seventy-two soon became fifty. Fifty soon became thirty-four. Thirty-four soon became eleven. Indeed, it seemed that our fate was sealed, and our people were doomed to extinction... Until another was cursed with the mark.
"This time, when the curse befell us, they were both our own. Rogat, the Traitor, and one of the Eleven. She had bore some of the most promising calves our people had seen since the Sickness. But still, it didn't seem enough. We believed it too late to undo the decimation of our race."
The General gazed up into the audience around, met the eyes of those watching him.
"Rogat knew the law," he told them solemnly. "He knew well that if any one of our viable females were to be stained with the mark again they would protected above all costs - forbidden from ever being in the company of their twin-cursed again. Rogat knew this was for the good of all our people. He was selfish. And he was a fool. He stole the female away and tried to flee with her. He took her into hiding in the outlands, believing he could covet her for his own. Selfish. Stupid. Dooming them both to nothing more than death by starvation.
"For ten days and ten nights, the female waited to be found - to be saved - but after the tenth night, she could wait no longer. Driven to sheer desperation her thirst and her hunger, she took up a blade while Rogat slept and slit him open. Half-mad with starvation, she feasted on fistfuls of his flesh while he still lay dying before her.
"She was still coated in his blood when she returned to us. And when put back to work, she went willingly. And soon, she began to bear calves. Strong calves."
Reagan knew she was running out of time. She needed to act - to find a way out of her shackles. She tried to summon her flames but she was so tired, so weak. The sedative was too powerful. She could barely even hold her own head up. She couldn't muster so much an ember. She'd never felt so weak. So helpless.
"Before long, the last remaining females died off. But it mattered not. Because the Mother had grown stronger. The flesh she had consumed - flesh marred with the curse that bound them to one another - it made her all the more fruitful. And she spawned young who grew into the most elite specimens our species had ever produced. Many of whom are here with us today."
Proud cries sounded throughout the crowd.
And an outraged roar from Loki soon joined their cries as he mustered all his strength once more to call forth his powers one last time. The atmosphere seared with magic. Blinding green energy burst forth from his chest, sent throttling toward the General with indescribable force. It should have been enough to eviscerate him entirely. Loki might as well have splashed him with a glass of water. Laughter rang out throughout the amphitheatre, and the General turned slowly to size him up, totally unphased by the display of power. He sauntered slowly towards Loki. Didn't react as Loki was once again clubbed over the head and injected with a fresh dose of sedative. He waited for a few moments while the poison took effect. He stood over Loki as he slumped forward, groaned in protest, attempted to pull himself upright again.
"The children born of the Mother were stronger than any who came before the Sickness," the General spoke calmly, looming over Loki as he spoke while the trickster panted for breath. "The consuming of the curse made them stronger, more resilient, improved their intelligence, their stamina was greater, it was nigh on impossible for them to grow fatigued.
The creature crouched down then, lowering himself to Loki's level. He clutched hold of Loki's throat, forcing his face up so that Loki had no choice but to look him in the eye.
"And it rendered us immune to the whims of magic," the General growled in Loki's face.
Loki searched the beast's features - the God of lies, wanting for a lie like he never desired before. He could not find one there. Even with the bond, muted as it was, Reagan could read it in his face.
Reagan paled. And for the first time since she'd regained consciousness, she thought of Asta. They'd killed her. They'd had her on her knees, chained her to the ground like it was nothing. Reagan had felt her power - just a drop of it - and though she had hidden her fear from the Witchling, it had been like nothing she'd ever imagined was possible. She'd held impossible power - unbridled power - and so, if she could be overpowered by these creatures, she and Loki didn't stand a chance.
They were going to meet their end at the hands of these creatures.
Their story would be extinguished before it ever had a chance to ignite. And even in her state of sheer horror, it broke Reagan's heart. How desperately she wanted to escape it. How desperately she wanted to spare Loki from a tragic end and another onslaught of undeserved pain.
"The Mother grows weary," the General uttered, still holding Loki by the throat. "She is approaching her end. She is weakening. For millennia, she has held strong, knowing that without her we would be doomed. She has lay in wait, for us to find another who can take her place. Another female cursed with the mark. A female young enough to bear children. A female who can consume the flesh of her twin-cursed and then service the cause of the Atraxis."
Loki glowered at the creature before him.
"The young that we sire will be half-breeds-" he shot Reagan a look of disgust as if it was actually her fault, "- but it what must be done for the survival of our race!"
He loosed his grip on Loki's throat and turned to stalk towards her. Slowly Reagan turned her attention to meet the eye of the General who was already looking at her with immeasurable disdain. Her mouth parted in horror, unable to truly put voice to her racing thoughts. What these things intended to do to Loki - do to her - it was a fate worse than death.
Desperately, Reagan tried to summon her flames but the stupor she was slave to now was too strong. It was taking everything in her just to stay conscious.
"She waits upon Atraxa, too weak now for voyages. Holding on until we find one who can take her place. She will rejoice this night. She can finally rest. You... She will adore you. And I will give you to her. The ultimate gift I could bestow upon the one who saved us all. Freedom. Freedom from that fucking mark."
The General pulled himself upright again, turned his attention back toward his people.
"She shall oversee tonight's events - it is her burden to ensure we carry out the ceremony correctly. And it is our duty to ensure the ceremony proceeds without interruption. We came close just once before. An Asgardian pairing. We fed the breeder the feast. She was primed. Ready. We did not anticipate the army that would come for them."
He threw Reagan another disgusted look.
"No battalion is coming for these two. They are ours to bend to our will."
He moved to survey Loki, on his hands and knees, fighting against the serum, one last time.
"And it is time now to present to her the fruits of our labour..." the General rumbled.
He moved to the epicentre of the stage.
"Behold," he cried with his arm outstretched towards a massive domed screen that loomed above them. "The Mother."
The screen growled to life with the most grotesque sight Reagan had ever seen in her life. The thing on the screen was Atraxian, but it was larger than the creatures here - bloated. Where their onyx skin parted to reveal orange under-flesh, hers herniated out like swollen wounds. Her face was impossibly gaunt, as if there were no muscle left in it at all - a rather macabre juxtaposition to her bloated body. And long, heavy, sagging breast hung to either side of an impossibly distended, swollen stomach. It was so stretched it had turned a ghastly purple and angry varicose veins rooted up and down the flesh of it. It was moving... as if something - some things - writhed inside it. And perhaps worst of all, the thing that made the sight before Reagan so impossible to gaze upon, was the far-too-familiar iridescent mark which adorned the centre of the creature's chest.
It turned Reagan's stomach, she had to look away.
"My children," she cooed upon the monitor, her voice echoing out over the amphitheatre. "My lineage... The determination - the resilience - you and your brothers have shown throughout this search, it fills me with unimaginable pride."
The Atraxis howled up at the screen in response.
"The children sired here tonight will grow to be strong, proud warriors. They will spread forth throughout the Realms and reclaim the glories once meant for our people. We will build. We will grow. We will conquer. We will return our people to glory!"
"You're fucking insane," Reagan managed to utter, her head still spinning from the sedative lacing her bloodstream.
The General didn't respond. He only took a fistful of her hair and forced her to turn in Loki's direction, watching as he was lashed once more.
"Please, just let him go," she whimpered as she was forced to watch his cries of agony once more - all the while knowing it was useless.
Her begging seemed to only bring the Mother joy. She loomed forward, gazing adoringly at her new plaything.
"Such a shame I can't be present for the ceremony. How I'd adore for her to first suckle."
Reagan gagged then, involuntarily.
"My children, let us waste no more time. Rejoice with me now, as we watch our new Mother indulge upon the feast."
As if on queue the floor beneath Loki groaned loudly and began to part. He looked down as a set of swing-doors gave way below him, though he remained knelt on a grate - the grate he was shackled to. A blast of stifling heat filled the amphitheatre and Reagan let out an anguished moan. Loki's torso was illuminated by a fiery glow which flickered over his features from below, casting dancing shadows over him. It might have been beautiful, if not for the heat.
Reagan's blood ran cold.
They were going to roast him.
She was going to have to watch him burn.
Her soulmate.
Their bond - corrupted. Mutilated.
And they were powerless to stop it.
Loki raised his head, and when his gaze met hers his features softened, almost reminiscent - as if the fleeting time they'd shared had been enough. She could almost read it there in his gaze - worth it... better than to go without. He looked at her... As if she were the only thing that mattered in all the universe.
"It's alright, my love. Do what must be done," he told her calmly - peacefully. It sounded like 'goodbye'.
"Loki."
With nothing more that he could do, Loki clenched his fists and bowed his head, waiting to be incinerated.
Notes:
TRIGGER WARNING: Heavy implications of rape and forced pregnancy throughout this chapter. THIS DOES NOT HAPPEN. But it is mentioned more than once.
If you'd like to skip and still follow the story, here is a brief summary with no uncomfy details: (SPOILERS HERE obviously) Reagan and Loki have been taken prisoner by the Atraxis because they believe the magic that forms the bond can be used to strengthen their people. They have used it in the past to make their species immune to magic - this is why Asta, as powerful as she was, couldn't fight them off. This chapter is mostly exposition about the history of their people. The next chapter will begin with Loki in chains set to be roasted alive as part of the ceremony. Reagan is chained to a chair, conscious but sedated to the point that she is powerless.
Chapter 33: Chapter 33
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Burn the poison out, dear.
The first time Reagan had ever tried to call her fire forth on purpose, she went about it entirely incorrectly.
She'd stood there alone in the flame-proof bunker SHIELD had built just for her, a team of scientists observing from behind eight solid inches of flame-retardant glass. And with trembling hands and a pulse rate that could put a hummingbird to shame, she'd forced herself to try and catch fire. She'd pictured her flesh burning, her bones cooking, until the flames ate away at her, leaving her as nothing but ash. In truth, part of her even wished just a little that that's what would happen. At least that way it could be over.
The heat had come. She'd felt it coursing through her. But the flames had not burst forth from the surface of her skin. Instead, her body had seized up, her muscles had tensed, her spine had gone rigid. And brilliant veins of vibrant light had mapped their way from the centre of her chest, up her neck, down her limbs. All over her body. Until it looked like white-hot lava was flowing through her very veins beneath her skin.
She'd felt alive. She'd felt set to burst.
She'd loathed it.
With deep, shuddering gasps of air, she'd fought the power back, smothered it down until it returned to being this waiting, dormant thing inside of her. Like some kind of cancer cell. And when her knees had given out from under her, the fear had overwhelmed her and her sobs had echoed out into that empty steel bunker, her efforts had been met by nothing but disapproving gazes from the observation deck. She'd felt like an animal left alone to lick her wounds. Or worse than that - like an animal that had made those wounds up. Like everyone believed this should have been easy for her to figure out. She was just faking this lack of control.
"You're just going about it the wrong way," Clint Barton had told her later when she was no longer graced with an audience.
She'd glanced up at him confused. She hadn't known him very well then, he was just the strange SHIELD agent who observed her sessions. The only one brave enough - or stupid enough - to remain in the room while she tested out her newly acquired powers, up in his perch. She'd just figured he was either some deranged kind of pyromaniac or, maybe, that he had a death wish.
"What do you mean?" she'd asked, a little reluctantly.
"You're worried about hurting people," Clint had replied. It was a statement, not a question. "So you're holding it... inside. And that energy wants to come out. It's fighting back. You can actually see it building up beneath the surface. You look like you're cooking yourself from the inside out, like some kind of pressure cooker. Like you're about to--"
"Explode," Reagan looked away as she finished for him, shame lacing the word.
Clint had just smiled and clapped his hand on her shoulder with a simple shrug.
"So explode."
Burn the poison out dear.
They were going to kill Loki.
Reagan raised her head once again to take in the audience of Atraxian warriors surveying them. Their jeering - their cries of celebration - were almost deafening.
These things had put Loki in chains. They'd beat him. Forced him to his knees. And now they intended to burn him - to make him die an agonising death and then to carve his flesh up and force it down her throat. All for the sake of some ritual. And all the while she was to be manacled to a chair, forced to watch in a drugged-out stupor.
Utterly helpless.
Theirs to toy with.
To use.
Reagan clenched her fists.
They'd made a mistake allowing her to wake up.
Maybe if they'd pumped her full of enough sedatives to keep her under. Maybe if they hadn't been so focused on Loki and all his immortal power. If they'd seen her as more than just breeding stock... maybe any one of them might have stood a chance of surviving the night.
Reagan was frightened. She was horrified by these things and what they wanted to do. She was tired and so painfully weak.
But she was also angry.
These creatures had come for them. They wanted to strip her of her freedom. Of her body. Of her soulmate.
They thought they could just take all that from her - as if they were entitled to any of it.
Deep, below the sedative her fire yearned to unfurl.
From the second she'd awoken and found herself shackled to that chair, she'd been reaching for it desperately, trying to call it up within her.
Anything, she begged it. Anything. Just a spark.
After all, that's the thing about fire. Sometimes, all it takes is a spark.
Sometimes a spark is enough to start a wildfire.
Burn the poison out, dear.
The moment that spark finally burst to life at the tip of her fingers, she drew it inwards. She trapped it there beneath her skin - within her veins - all the while coaxing it forth, telling it to grow. She felt it instantly - the way her own powers surged in protest against the way she caged them. She didn't relent - she held them there with everything she had. Heat seared within her fingers - a white-hot burst like phosphorus exposed to oxygen. The heat scorched its way up her hand, mapping the blood vessels there, illuminating them. Up her arm. Up her neck. Into the core of her chest. Further and further, the glowing heat coursed through her system until her entire body was alive with white-hot veins of energy. Building, surging... and incinerating the poison they pumped into her to keep her docile.
As the heat within her built, she could feel her strength returning to her. Her lucidity.
It was like a cycle - the hotter her fire grew within her, the more alert she became, allowing her to feel the rage that caused her power to swell all the more.
Building and building and building.
Like a furnace.
Anger.
In her sedated state, it had felt like anger. It was almost laughable. Because now? Now that her mind was her own again, now that she could move... now that she burned.
There weren't words for the rage that coursed through her now.
Not when she looked over and saw Loki on his knees, shackled, straining away from the scorching heat below him.
The sight of it stained the edges of her vision red.
They were going to burn him.
They were going to make her watch as flames consumed him.
And so beneath all the rest of it - beneath the rage and the fear and the horror - there was also such palpable indignity. Outrage.
They thought they could use fire to hurt her. Reagan only hoped that their final moments would be long enough for them to regret that.
Lucid now, Reagan could feel the bond. She could feel Loki's rage there to match her own - but there was also such terror and resolution that he was about to meet his end.
She knew, far too intimately, the sounds a person made when fire ate away at their flesh. She would not hear Loki make those sounds. She wouldn't.
You are forged of flames, Reagan. Loki had said to her once when she had been afraid of testing her powers' limits. You are their master. That is your fire... It is yours. You control it. Remind the flame that it is yours. Command it to return to where it belongs.
She hadn't really believed it then, she'd been too afraid to.
She wasn't afraid of it now.
Still manacled to the chair, she outstretched her fingers in the direction of the flames blazing beneath Loki. She called them home.
It was then that the General, alerted by the surprised cries of the guards flanking her turned in her direction. His attention had been on Loki - on the Mother watching over them on the screen above. His eyes grew wide at the sight of her. The way she glowed white-hot, the air around her rippling with stifling heat. The guards tried to approach her. They tried to grab her - to pump more poison into her veins - but the heat radiating off her was unbearable now.
And new flames were joining her - not just the magic that lived within her but real tangible flames - flames these creatures had set to torture her and Loki. They bent to her so willingly. To their true master. The flames came willingly, enveloping her, sinking into her skin to dance with her veins.
"What is she doing?" The General shouted. "Stop her! What are you doing?"
Reagan met his eye.
And ignited.
A blistering wall of flames exploded out of her and the air was suddenly filled with the agonised shrieks of the Atraxis nearest to her. They were sent hurtling through the air, blasted away from her, their skin sizzling away from their flesh before they even hit the ground.
The flames ate away at them unnaturally so, even as they scrambled and writhed and tried to swat them out - as if they'd been dowsed in kerosene.
Among them lay the General and even as he writhed in agony, he extended a now-ruined hand in her direction and unleashed a gargled cry.
"Stop her!" he managed to scream. "Sedate her! We need her aliv-"
He never got to give that final order. The words were muffled by the flames that forced themselves down his throat and into his very lungs to incinerate him from the inside out.
Reagan didn't even look to see if any of the creatures behind her made an attempt to subdue her - there was no point. No living thing could have put a hand on her in that moment and survived it. Not as she forced her flames higher and higher - burned hotter than she'd ever allowed herself to before.
The manacles that now glowed white hot around her wrists yawned opened as she stood and pulled her arms free from the molten metal. The ones around her ankles did the same. She stepped forward, watching as all around her the creatures scrambled for their weapons, that is, the ones who weren't already on the ground screaming. But as they took up their weapons and aimed them in Reagan's way, each and every one of them soon wore an expression of sheer terror as the weapons jammed.
Reagan didn't allow them the chance to change that. Her flames torpedoed through the flanks of warriors who rose up to attack her. She burned them all.
Even the ones who ran.
She wasn't going to spare any of them. Not one. Not when she knew what they would have done to her had she not been made of fire.
Every last one of them. Every last being in that room would die that night.
But then she sensed it.
The way her flames loomed over another - one different from the rest. Shackled. Unable to run. And far more vulnerable to heat and fire than these other creatures she eviscerated.
Reagan turned and her eyes met Loki's through a wall of fire. He was still on his knees, battered, bleeding, above a pit that had only moments earlier been filled with flames.
Flames that belonged to her.
Flames that longed to lick their way up his flesh and consume him like the rest of them.
No, she commanded firmly.
The flames shrunk back, bending to her will.
Not him, she told them. He is mine. And so, he's yours... And you will not hurt him.
And the flames obeyed. Even as she forced her fire forward, hotter and hotter - hotter than she'd ever burned before - even as they filled the room and incinerated everything else in their path, they did not come for Loki. The heat shied away from him - from the Jotun flesh that would have been all too easy to decimate. Instead, a wall of flames grew around him, encompassing him, so that not even the Atraxis who still drew breath foolish enough to come for him could reach him.
It had all happened so fast. The sedative hadn't taken in his system fully. Loki had been half-awake as they'd taken hold of him and Reagan and dragged them away from Asta's headless corpse and out of that decrepit tavern pub. He'd watched Reagan through hooded eyes, barely unconscious as one of the beasts had carried her like a ragdoll over its shoulder and into the yawning mouth of their enormous onyx ship. He'd tried to reach for her as they'd dragged him along, but the poison had been strong enough to prevent him from doing that.
He'd summoned his magic then - it had been no easy feat - to try and slay the thing that dared to put its hand on her.
That was when he'd received his first lashing.
He'd barely felt it as he'd roared in protest and tried to reach for Reagan as the creatures carried her away from him. Another lashing. A blunt impact to the back of his head.
Another needle to the neck.
Ice-cold chains around his wrists.
Around his throat.
He'd fallen into unconsciousness that time, and when he'd awoken, he'd found himself on that stage. A sea of those cursed creatures watching him from the stands.
And then his eyes had fallen on her. Reagan. Slumped and unconscious in a steel chair and those things putting their hands on her - twisting her face this way and that to inspect her, checking if she'd regained consciousness.
Loki had never known rage like it.
Once again he'd summoned his magic, forcing past the sedative and sending would should have been an unspeakably cruel fate toward the creature closest to her. It had had no effect and earned him another beating. And all throughout it, Loki had screamed her name, trying to rouse her - to give her a chance of escaping.
He had no idea where she could go - from the vibrations beneath him it was evident that the ship was now in transit. They were trapped inside by the vacuum of space. But if she could run - perhaps find somewhere to hide - it was better than anything that awaited them here.
When Reagan had finally awoken and her eyes had met his... Loki would be haunted for eternity by the fear he'd seen in her then. It was enough to end him.
He'd fought so desperately, tried to comfort her. He'd had to endure the sound of her crying - her begging for them to stop - as she'd watched them beat him once again.
And the dark cloud of unconsciousness had threatened to overcome him once more as another needle pierced his flesh.
He'd fought against it was all his might as the monster that led them had spun its tale - he wouldn't allow unconsciousness to take him - he wouldn't leave her to endure this alone.
And as the tale was told and the creatures celebrated what was to come, bile rose in his throat. Disgust like nothing he'd ever felt before.
What they intended to do to her.
This time when his magic came, it was as if it were of its own accord. It had burst forth with overwhelming force, hurtling towards the General, and once again it had had no effect. Loki had learned enough to anticipate that this time. It hadn't mattered. Not so long as it distracted them from another spell he cast - one to jam their weapons. The beasts had laughed. They'd sneered at him and mocked him. It was enough to tell him that his deception had worked. He forced himself to hide his satisfaction - it wasn't exactly difficult when he earned another strike to the face. It had worked.
At least now, if she found a way - Reagan might stand a chance of running without being gunned down.
He'd hoped that she'd find that.
A way to escape.
A way to run.
He'd told her as much as grates beneath him opened, and he was to meet his fate.
Do what must be done, he'd told her.
Leave me here and run. He'd hoped she'd heard that.
He'd never expected what came instead.
Loki had watched utterly awestruck as the power had exploded out of her. How she stole the flames out from beneath him and bent them to her will, slipping her hands free of molten metal as slipping loose from silk, stalking towards their captors as if they were prey.
And indeed it appeared that's exactly what they were.
Each of them fell screaming.
None of them stood a chance.
Not as her power grew and engulfed them all.
And all the while she was steady.
Not the girl made of fire but the Goddess of Flame.
All around Loki, Reagan's flames grew. They were wild, brilliant things - her rage and her fear so clearly embroiled within them.
He marvelled as he watched them blaze.
So this is how he was to die - engulfed by her. So be it. So long as she took those monsters down with him. Loki would rejoice in their screams being the last thing he ever heard, knowing it was her that brought their demise - knowing they'd suffer for ever laying a hand on her.
For just a few moments a future - a lifetime - with her had been dangled before him, and they'd swiped it away. Decimated it.
Let them die screaming, he thought bitterly.
The heat was scorching - unbearable - as her flames exploded, filling the atmosphere.
He only hoped that she'd know that he wanted it this way - that when she came back to herself, she needn't feel any guilt. He hoped that she'd know how fiercely proud he was of her.
Loki braced himself for the end.
It didn't come.
He opened his eyes to watch as a wall of blistering heat rose up around him, but did not touch him.
The heat alone should have been enough to end him, but he found the atmosphere around him cooling - still so hot it was almost unbearable, but not enough to steal the oxygen from his lungs or to blister his skin or blind him.
He loosed a breath and his eyes found her once again, stalking slowly to the few creatures who still had breath in them.
She was protecting him.
His heart clenched painfully in his chest as he watched her, awestruck once more.
Then it happened.
Loki was jolted back to reality as from the ship came a mighty groan of protesting metal. The sharp, metallic screeches echoed out beyond the amphitheatre. Loki could hear rivets tearing away, the reverberating sound of massive sheets of metal collapsing in on metal.
He was doused in ice-cold dread.
She didn't know, he realised suddenly - Reagan didn't realise they'd been taken aboard a ship and hurtled into space - in her warpath, she was going to burn through every last layer of the craft until the hull was ripped away. The entire structure would implode. And Loki knew that even with all her power, she didn't stand a chance. She would die.
Reagan! he called for her. Reagan, please! Hear me!
She couldn't. He could feel it - she'd never burned like this before. Nothing even close to it. It was all-consuming.
She could barely think - she was barely even herself in that moment - so lost in the overwhelming power of her flames.
Loki pulled desperately at the chains around his wrists, ignoring the agonising pain.
He roared in frustration.
Once more... just once more, with all the strength that he possessed, Loki called forth every last ounce of power inside of himself. Light or dark magic, he did not know - he didn't care - not so long as it worked.
Magic surged out of him in all directions, and he sent it forth, encompassing the ship. The shackles burst free from his wrists and slowly, with every muscle crying out in protest, he stood. His magic rose with him.
Through the flames, Loki could see the green glow of his work blanketing the walls, holding them steadfast, keeping them in place.
His gaze fell on Reagan more. She'd finished with them - their enemies - and now she stood consumed in her flames, basking in the overwhelming feeling of her power being free at last.
His soulmate.
His mortal.
Loki never imagined it was possible to love another being the way he loved her.
For her, he could hold up the sun. He could let his hands char black.
Reagan, he called gently this time. Darling, it's done. It's over.
The effort of holding the ship together was rapidly starting to drain him of his strength but still, he moved towards her, and the flames parted, making way for him.
She turned to face him then, her eyes cloudy.
He reached out a hand to her.
Reagan, I'm here.
Slowly, the flames dancing around her began to shrink away.
"Loki?"
She sounded distant, disoriented.
"I'm here," he promised her.
It's over, darling. You did it. You're safe... we're safe.
It was as if she'd been waiting for permission to let go. The moment his words reached her, her flames quelled and her knees seemed to give out from under her.
Loki surged forward, falling to his knees to catch her before she could hit the ground. He cradled her head carefully as she lulled against him, slipping into unconsciousness.
"It's alright," he murmured as he pressed a gentle kiss into her hair. "I have you."
Overhead, a charred and heat-bubbled screen flickered meagerly to life.
An anguished wail filled the atmosphere to join the crackling of charcoaled flesh.
"My young!" the Mother wailed. "What has she done to you, my precious children!"
Slowly, with Reagan's unconscious form still draped in his arms, Loki raised his head to glare up at the pustulant creature that loomed over them on the enormous monitor.
"This was far more merciful than the fate they deserved," he snarled at her.
She unleashed a cry of outrage.
"Over and over, that mark has brought nothing but decimation and pain to our people!" she shrieked. "Our forces will go forth. They will find you and they will put an end to you and your mate and foul thing branded on your arms. Just you wait."
Loki offered her a cruel sort of smile, he turned his head to survey the smoking ruin around him before loosing a cruel laugh.
"My mate," he sneered the word with some disgust at the fact that this creature was still reducing them to the status of animals. "This is what she was capable of when you came for us unaware. This is what she did to your children when they had her shackled, sedated and ready to be used like some common dog. If you're truly foolish enough to send more of your kind after us... just imagine what she'll do when she's actually ready for you."
The Mother leaned forward, a murderous scowl upon her features. She opened her mouth to deliver yet another threat.
Loki, never one to grant an enemy such satisfaction, raised a hand and unleashed a final surge of magic. A deafening crack rang out as the massive screen tore itself apart, collapsing in on itself and silencing the Mother who would make her threats from the other side of the universe.
Let her come, Loki thought. After all, he'd meant every last word he'd said to her.
He shifted then, looking back down at Reagan where she nestled to his chest.
The ship gave a near-deafening groan then.
Even with his magic, holding every last in place as it was, the damage Reagan had done was devastating. The ship wouldn't last much longer.
They had perhaps minutes before it would tear apart and expose them both to the vacuum of space.
Loki could perhaps survive it, but Reagan...
Desperately, he searched his mind for an answer - a way out.
And there was one. Only one.
Loki's forehead crinkled in slight regret as he gently brushed a lock of hair away from her face. It would mean being parted from her again. It would mean isolation.
It was such a small price to pay to ensure that she'd be alright.
Loki smiled down at her softly once more before he set his gaze skyward.
"Heimdall..." Loki pleaded, his voice strained. "I know that I am the last person who deserves to ask anything of you - least of all, your help. But she'll die if you don't open the Bifrost and get us off this ship. Allow me to take her to the healers and I'll go quietly after that. In chains. Back to that cell. To the axe, if that is to be my fate. I swear to you, I won't fight it. Just please, help me save her... don't let your sister's sacrifice be for nothing."
The seconds that followed stretched on painfully.
The ship groaned around him, under its own collapsing weight.
The flesh of charred bodies crackled.
The atmosphere more smoke than oxygen.
And Reagan cradled unconscious in his arms as the ship began to come undone around them.
Loki waited with bated breath as he stared skyward, waiting. Desperate. Hopeful.
"Please..." he breathed once more.
And just as the ship gave one last ear-splitting groan, and its hull bowed and began to collapse inward. Just as metal screeched and tore and began to split open, exposing the pair to the vacuum of space. Just as Loki bowed his head in defeat and cradled Reagan close to him, shielding her as best he could from the destruction to come... His entire field of vision burst to life with brilliant rainbow light.
Notes:
Man that was so much more fun to write than I was expecting! I hope you all liked it! You've all been leaving me just the sweetest feedback lately, I just want you to know how much I appreciate it. Next chap coming ASAP! <3
Chapter 34: Chapter 34
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Loki held Reagan close as they were sent flying across the universe in a blaze of brilliant glimmering light. Past galaxies and star systems and milky-ways. Through the deep vacuums of space at the speed of light - faster than light.
And then suddenly the ground was below him again, firm and solid and real. And Loki raised his head to find himself once again beneath the golden dome of the Bifrost. It felt like a lifetime since the last time he stood there. The last time, in chains. The last time, Reagan had been there too, trying to use Thor as a shield to block herself from Loki's very gaze. And now, she lay unconscious in his arms, having pushed herself to her very limits to keep him from harm.
Loki's gaze fell to her face, her head was lulled against his chest. She hadn't stirred. Loki searched the bond - it was there, it was solid, but it was silent. Except for her heartbeat, Loki could feel the steady rhythm of it. That, at least, brought comfort to him.
"My Prince," came a woman's voice by way of greeting.
Loki looked up to find three women standing side by side, each garbed in the robes of the coven. They were gazing at him, or rather, at the mortal he held. His grip on her tightened reflexively.
Almost in tandem, the women moved to descend upon Reagan but Loki's magic flared dangerously, crackling through the atmosphere. A warning to stay away.
The witches slowed their approach, circling him cautiously. Their eyes were still fixed on Reagan.
Loki set his jaw, watching from the corner of his eye as they moved, ready and waiting for any one of them to strike.
"It's alright, Highness," a deep, commanding voice sounded behind him.
Loki glanced cautiously over his shoulder to find the Gatekeeper of Asgard surveying him, the hilt of the Bifrost sword still clutched in his large hands. Heimdall inclined his head slowly to Loki.
"They're here to help," he assured him. "Let them help her."
Loki fought back the urge to loose another surge of power. The instinct to keep them away from Reagan after what had almost come to pass was verging upon impossible to resist. Slowly, stiffly, and after meeting each of the witches' eyelines with a deathly warning glare, he nodded stiffly.
He realised only then that two of the faces were known to him - respected witches amongst the coven, and once friends to his mother. Ingrid and Eline. Sisters. Though he knew little more than that about either one of them.
Loki laid Reagan carefully upon the golden floor of the Bifrost, remaining close to her as the witches at last came to her aid. They each quickly extended their hands over her body and a golden glow emitted from their palms, casting Reagan's sleeping features in a warm yellow light.
Loki watched unblinkingly as beneath the glow of magic a small abrasion over Reagan's eyebrow knitted itself back together. Along the bond, he felt some tension in her easing that he hadn't realised was there as if her unconscious state had been fitful, and now a gentle calm replaced the distress, allowing her to rest peacefully.
"Is she alright?" He managed to squeeze the words out. "Will she--"
"We can help her," Ingrid assured him.
"Such power," mused Eline.
"Take her to the Prince's chambers," Heimdall told them then. "His Highness will be along shortly. He and I first have a matter to attend to."
Loki looked to the Gatekeeper questioningly as the witches each inclined their heads in acknowledgement.
Ingrid waved a hand, summoning a cot beneath Reagan. The bed raised from the ground, hoovering under the witches' administrations as she guided it towards the mouth of the Bifrost.
"If anything happens to her--" Loki began.
"She will be safe," Heimdall assured him. "You have my word."
Loki stared after Reagan as the witches carried her away from him along the Rainbow Bridge. Every fibre of his body yearned to follow her. His fingers itched to reach for her. And he had to ball his hands into fists to keep himself from doing just that.
Loki set his jaw, allowing a mask of composure to settle over his features. He glanced down at himself, realising he was still shirtless. His many wounds inflicted by the Atraxis on display. He conjured a tunic and magicked away the dried blood upon his face. The wounds would soon heal on their own.
He turned at last to address Heimdall.
"Highness," he said evenly, "I wasn't aware I still held that title."
Heimdall's golden gaze turned solemn.
"You do today."
"I should warn you, what you're about to see. The King. It may be unsettling."
They stood outside the entrance to the Throne Room, and even through the heavy doors Loki could hear the clattering of plates and goblets being tossed to the ground. The garbled, slurred cries of a voice that there was no way of denying belonged to his father. Heimdall had given him the details, informed him of the crazed turn the King had taken since the Dark Elves had attacked and invaded Asgard, since Frigga had been slain, since his sons had committed treason and escaped with the Aether and their two mortals who were being held under the watch of the Einherjar.
Even now, hearing what he could through the Throne Room doors, it seemed so hard to fathom. His Father, save for rage, had always managed to maintain his Godly composure. No matter what he came to face.
Loki's brow furrowed.
"Why does this fall to me?" he asked Heimdall. "Where is Thor?"
"Thor remains on Midgard. He appears to be in no hurry to return, not since reuniting with his mortal. I'm sure you understand that, Prince."
Loki didn't voice the next question, just eyed the Gatekeeper suspiciously. And Heimdall read it for what it was. Even if Thor couldn't be there to deal with the King, why would Heimdall ever trust Loki to aid him?
The faintest ghost of a smile passed over Heimdall's features.
"The last time I ever saw my sister," Heimdall explained, "she told me that when frost begged for chains in order to save a flame, then the traitor could trusted again."
Loki hesitated, lowering his head to contemplate the weight those words bore. The faith Heimdall had to have in Heika - not just her gift of foresight but also her judgement - to take that prophecy as the right path to follow.
"Ah," Loki breathed. "Well, that actually brings us to a rather awkward impasse. You see, your sister also offered me counsel upon my departure."
"And that was?"
Loki looked Heimdall straight in the eye as he gave his answer.
"She told me to betray you."
It was well past nightfall when Loki finally made his way along a corridor that had once been so familiar to him; it felt like a lifetime ago that this had been his home. How drastically his life had changed since he had last freely roamed these hallways. He'd been so full of unbridled anger - hatred. And so, so desperately alone.
The past few hours had taught him that anger was still ingrained in him. He was not free of it. But the loneliness, that at least he was free of. A presence had come into his life that had managed to coax him beyond the rage. It was still... of him, but it wasn't quicksand anymore. It could no longer smother out the other parts of him until it was all that remained. He still remained present.
And the proof of just that confronted him as he rounded the corner and came face to face with a once familiar set of doors. There were scorch marks there now, left near to a year ago, by a maddening little mortal. It was as if she'd planned it just to coax him from his brooding state right before he was to reunite with her again. He'd never have imagined that the sight of his exquisite golden door handles, morphed and misshapen and drooping pathetically from the heat they'd been assaulted with might bring a fond smile to his face. And yet it did.
"You certainly take a unique approach to decor, Your Majesty," Ingrid commented as Loki swept into his chambers, sealing the doors behind him with magic.
Loki spared the room only a fleeting glance and found it was still in a state of true disarray. Heavy velvet curtains in ashen piles on the ground, overturned furniture, torn-up books and shattered relics. He found that he didn't much care - might have even found it a little amusing had it been Reagan who had commented on it upon his entering the room. But it had not been, because she still lay unconscious, now tucked into his bed, an Asgardian witch on either side of her.
Unconscious. Still.
He'd known it from the bond even while he'd been parted from her but to see her like that, it set a heavy pit deep in his gut.
"How is she?" he asked, moving to observe from the end of the bed.
"She has not yet woken," Eline told him, one hand extended out over Reagan's body, glowing gold as she searched for any overlooked injuries. "But it won't be long now. She's healing well and her energy is replenishing."
Loki's gaze shifted from Reagan's sleeping form to the witch beside her.
Eline offered a gentle smile.
"She is strong," she insisted, sagely.
The very statement filled Loki with pride. He nodded as his gaze returned to his mortal once more.
"Yes, well, perhaps it's biased but I happen to believe she's made of something more than the common mortal."
"Oh Highness... She is no mortal," Ingrid said.
Loki stilled. He looked to the witch who wore a mysterious smile.
"This power in her, it's been hers for a time but... it seems newly awakened. Reborn, perhaps, is the right term for it. It burns brighter than ever now."
"It's unwieldy," Eline added.
"It's a storm."
"A wildfire."
"She should come with us," Ingrid said. "Once her strength returns. We urge you, send her to the coven. Allow her to learn to harness these powers."
"She has a better grasp on them than either of you can fathom," Loki told them, a sudden bite in his tone.
He clenched his jaw, willing himself to remain calm - steady. But something so possessive reared its head inside his chest and he had to fight against that urge once again to steal Reagan away and conceal her from all the world. The witches, sensing the change in him each inclined their heads, respectfully, indicating that the matter would not be pushed.
They don't know, he attempted to reason with himself. To remind himself that they were totally unaware that Reagan had endured a period of time where she was poked and prodded by men of so-called science on Midgard, where she'd been forced to burn against her will. It didn't do much to quell the fury he felt. Loki allowed himself a moment of composure before he spoke again.
"Any discussions regarding her powers - regarding course of action to do with her powers. They will occur when Reagan is conscious, and it will be a decision made by her. She will not be forced. And she will not be coerced. In any capacity. Am I understood?"
Loki's cool glare settled on the two women.
"Of course, Highness," Eline replied. "Forgive my sister, she only wished to help."
Loki didn't respond. Instead, he rounded the bed and seated himself beside Reagan on the mattress, his eyes never leaving her face. His back was to the witches now and when he spoke again, the malice in his tone had dissipated.
"Would you allow us some privacy?" he asked. "I will send for you if I have the need."
"As you wish," Ingrid replied.
Loki listened to their footsteps retreating towards the doorway, and he unsealed his magic to allow them to exit.
"Thank you," Loki said, at last, the words slightly strained. "Thank you for the care you've taken with her. It won't be forgotten."
And though his gaze remained on Reagan, the two women bowed low to him before silently leaving the room.
When Loki was satisfied they were alone, he reached out slowly and ran his fingertips over the back of Reagan's hand, touching her as if he were frightened she might shatter beneath him.
The instant his hand brushed against hers, her fingers twitched. Loki stilled. She shifted, her hand flexing as if reaching for him. He slipped his palm under hers, tracing his index finger over the crease of her wrist.
Loki searched the bond and felt her consciousness there, ebbing and flowing, the way it felt when he knew she was dreaming. But he could also sense her becoming brighter, wanting - perhaps fighting - to wake from this deep sleep she'd slipped into after exhausting her powers.
I'm here, my love, he promised her, his voice just a whisper upon the bond. Not enough to rouse her, just enough for her to know that she was not alone.
She reacted the moment she heard him, burning a little brighter along the bond and stirring in her sleep. Reagan's fingers soon wrapped around Loki's hand. Her eyes flew open and she gasped deeply as if waking from a nightmare.
"It's alright," he hushed her gently. "Reagan, it's alright. You're safe. I'm here."
Her eyes searched the room wildly for a few seconds before landing on him. With alarming speed, she shot up in the bed, reaching for him.
"Loki? Oh my god, are you okay?"
Reagan threw back the covers, crawling quickly to her knees to be closer to him. Trembling hands reached hastily, pulling open his tunic to inspect his chest, searching for the wounds he'd suffered at the hands of the Atraxis. She found none there. Her hands moved to his face, cupped his jaw to gently turn his head so that she could inspect his temple and the deep wound the butt of a weapon had left there. She carded her fingers gently through his hair when she found the wound already healed and breathed a shaky sigh of relief.
"I'm alright," Loki assured her, catching her wrists in a gentle grasp, coaxing her attention away from his wounds. "Everything's alright now."
Reagan met his eye again for only a moment, reading the truth there before she flung her arms around his neck and pulled herself as close to him as she could possibly manage.
Loki laughed as he wrapped his arms around her in return, one around her waist, his other hand tenderly cradling her head, fingers lacing through her hair. He turned his head towards her and buried his face in her hair, closing his eyes and breathing in her scent.
"Oh my god, that was so fucking scary," Reagan breathed when she drew back and looked at him once more. "I mean, that was really messed up, right?"
"Extraordinarily so," Loki agreed.
"Loki, they were going to try to make me eat you."
"Yes, I was paying attention."
"And did you see that big monster woman?" Reagan asked, sounding equally distressed as she shaped her hands into claws for effect.
With a barely suppressed smirk, he nodded.
"I did indeed."
"She was gross!"
And as he let out a laugh he couldn't quite manage to hold back, Loki drew Reagan forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"I love you," he murmured, enjoying the warmth of her as she wrapped herself around him once more.
The relief that came crashing through him just to find her lucid again - to feel her energy whirling along the bond - it was staggering. Just those few hours for her to return to him, he hadn't fully realised how quickly he'd returned to darkness. It was like he felt whole again.
Loki blanketed the bond in calming energy, gently soothing the panic that Reagan hadn't had room to feel back on that wretched ship. And rather than fighting it Reagan, sensing his efforts to calm her, allowed him to do just that. She closed her eyes and curled into the warmth of him, letting out a long, steadying breath. Loki felt the way the tension in her muscles eased as he enveloped her consciousness with his own, hoping she felt nothing but safety as he held her.
Soon, he felt Reagan prod playfully at the bond, her consciousness moving to entangle itself around his instead. Loki smiled softly as they began to play, back and forth along the bond, each gently trying to outmanoeuvre the other. And all the while, her head lay resting against his shoulder.
After a time, Reagan pulled back once again to look him in the eye, lighter now.
"You're really okay?" she asked once more, a soft desperation in the words.
She was still touching him like she needed to reassure herself that he was really there.
"I'm alright," he promised her again. "And really, it should be me asking you that. You're the one who has spent the past few hours essentially comatose."
"Oh, right," Reagan said, glancing back at the bed as if orienting herself.
Reagan stilled.
Emblazoned on the rich forest-green sheets was a burn mark in the shape of a massive, crudely drawn penis. Surprised, she reached and ran her hand over it before swinging around to survey the rest of the room. It was a place she'd been only once before, and that time she'd been on a warpath to destroy it.
Loki's chambers.
"Are we on Asgard?" she asked, surprised.
Something shifted in Loki that Reagan couldn't quite read.
"We are," he confirmed.
"How did we get here? What happened?"
The was a moment of hesitation in him. "How much do you remember?"
Reagan's brow furrowed as she thought.
"I was... burning," she said eventually, piecing memories back together. "The power, it was... it was overwhelming. I went after them all. I was so angry, I-- and then I saw you and you were alright and then... I don't remember."
She trailed off as her memory failed her, looking at Loki questioningly.
He weighed her up for just a moment before he answered.
"Thor," he lied. "Thor came for us. Heimdall had been watching us with Heika and so when the Atraxis came, he alerted my father. He'd summoned his armies but Thor got there first. You'd done away with their legions, and when my brother reached us we were both wounded and exhausted and he returned us to Asgard to seek aid from the healers."
Her grip on him tightened almost involuntarily. Loki felt her panic spike.
"Does Odin know that you're here? He's not going to try to--"
He shook his head, placating any concern that he might find himself once again confined to a cell.
"My father..." Loki began. "Something has happened, Reagan. Odin has taken ill. He hasn't handled the loss of Frigga, these past few weeks. It has been decided that he will be taking a reprieve from his rule for the time being. Thor has taken him to Midgard to allow him time to rest - to recover from the loss. He's going to watch over him."
"Loki, I'm so sorry," Reagan murmured.
"There's no need for that, I'm well aware you hold no great love for my father."
"That doesn't mean that I want him to suffer. And it must have been hard for you to see him like that."
Loki found himself unable to hold her eye as he swallowed thickly, pushing down emotions he wanted to ignore.
"He'll be alright. He's under my brother's watchful eye now."
"Thor must have been so surprised to see you," Reagan mused.
"Yes and no," Loki smirked a little. "It's hardly the first time I've deceived him."
"It's a shame I missed him," Reagan said. "I've wanted to apologise for just disappearing on him after the convergence. I've felt awful about it but I just... I had to get back to you."
"I explained that to him," Loki assured her, easing her concern. "I told him everything."
"You did?"
He nodded. "He understands. And he holds nothing against you. It brought him peace to know that we were together."
Reagan breathed a sigh, visibly relieved and Loki didn't allow himself to feel any guilt for it. Why would he when a white lie brought her such peace of mind? Except that there was guilt, try as he might to deny it, especially when she took his word as truth so readily. But he was doing this for her own good, he could rest easy in that.
Until a memory arose stubbornly to the forefront of his mind - the request she'd made of him at Asta's tavern.
Just stand beside me, rather than in front of me. That's all... Okay?
It caused his gut to twist.
He could tell her, he realised. He could admit to the lie. Take it back. Fix it. He could tell her why. She'd listen. She always listened. And she'd understand, even if the truth did upset her.
He could tell her.
Loki opened his mouth to speak, but Reagan, now having taken the time to survey his chambers beat him to it.
"God, this place is a mess. Did I really do all this?" she asked, looking mildly embarrassed.
And just like that Loki allowed the chance to slip away, burying it like he'd first intended.
"I'm afraid so," he replied smoothly. "But don't forget you were under rather immense amounts of stress."
"Because of you," Reagan said shooting him a sly grin.
And Loki wore a smile to match hers.
"Because of me," he agreed.
"You had me completely unhinged, Mischief."
"Yes, well, I do pride myself on my ability to inspire passion in you."
Reagan leaned into him, nudging him playfully with her shoulder.
"Someone could have at least cleaned it up," she commented.
"Certainly, but you never made the offer so I let it be."
"I assumed you had people who would do that for you. Isn't that supposed to be one of the perks of being a rich, royal snob?"
"Indeed it is, however, to arrange for that to happen would have meant alerting someone to your escapades. And I hardly wanted to be a snitch."
"But it wasn't-- Did you just say 'snitch'?"
Reagan's face lit up with something Loki could only describe as elated surprise. He inclined his head modestly.
"I thought I'd get a head start on the Midgardian colloquialisms you seem so determined to teach me," he explained. "I hoped it might bring you a little cheer after the harrowing ordeal we just underwent."
"Okay, well, you were right on the money."
"I'm delighted to hear it," he smiled at her affectionately.
"So am I. What else did you learn?"
The pair sat there together for a time, bantering back and forth about expressions Reagan desperately hoped Loki would integrate into his already rather extensive vocabulary. It was so easy, and such a welcome relief after weeks of worry due to the strange golden-eyed woman beckoning Reagan to her in her dreams. It felt nice just to be, no mysterious threat looming in the distance.
"Okay so tell me," Reagan asked eventually. "If Thor and Odin are gone who's in charge now? Who am I going to have to do battle against to keep you out of lock-up? It's not Sif, is it? Please, say it's not Sif."
A slow grin spread across Loki's face. Reagan squinted for a moment before her eyes blew wide in realisation.
"No way."
Loki only nodded.
"No way."
"I'm going to have to don Odin's face. There will only be a select few privy to this knowledge. The realms can't know the true state my father is in - they need to believe Asgard is as strong as ever. Those creatures - the Atraxis - the Mother... She saw what you did. She threatened to come for you. I have no idea how large their forces are but they wouldn't dare attack us here. We need the might of Asgard. We need to stay here - at least until we've gathered more information about them."
Something shifted in Reagan then and Loki felt regret swell in her, he inclined his head to catch her eye. She grimaced a little.
"They killed Asta because of us," she murmured and Loki stilled.
"Yes," he said quietly. "Yes, they did."
"I know I threatened to kill her but I didn't actually want anything to happen to her."
"I know that, my love."
"Is there any way to..."
Loki looked her in the eye before giving a small, sad shake of his head. He watched as Reagan blinked back tears for the woman she'd barely known and had liked even less. It caused his heart to stir. She was capable of such compassion... Part of him almost wished he had the capacity for it too.
Reagan cleared her throat then, doing away with the emotion that had settled there.
"So... you faked your death, went into hiding, got abducted by monsters that I then burned to death but you told Thor that it was all in the name of love and so he decides that's enough to trust you with a Kingdom, huh?"
"This wouldn't be the first time you've pointed out my family's penchant for dramatics," Loki replied smoothly. "Thor understands how seriously I intend to take this duty with your safety at risk. That's enough for him. And... well, my brother hardly wants to spend his time here on Asgard if he can avoid it. Not when he has a mortal of his own that he wants to be with."
"Jane..."
"Yes. I can't fault him for that. They weren't afforded the same gift we were," Loki murmured as he raised Reagan's wrist to his lips and pressed a kiss against her pulse point.
Reagan stilled.
"Oh," she breathed, realising just what he meant. "I burned..."
"You did."
"Hotter than I ever had. I didn't hold anything back."
Loki nodded calmly.
"Do--Do you mean that I'm..."
"The witches who saw over your healing seem to think so."
Reagan looked down at herself then, studying her hands, turning them over this way and that.
"I don't feel any different," she told him.
"How did you expect it to feel?"
"I don't know, just... different. Do I look different?"
Loki smiled gently. "You look radiant."
And he watched as Reagan smiled and had to duck her head a little under his gaze, adoring the way that he was still able to make her blush.
"Immortal..." Reagan whispered as if trying the word out for the first time.
"Immortal," Loki agreed, the word easing a tension that had gripped at his soul for too long.
"But how immortal?" she asked, a playful smile spreading over her features. "Should we go put it to the test?"
"Perhaps another time," Loki replied. "I think we've had quite enough excitement for one day, don't you?"
Her hand fell gently to rest upon Loki's forearm, settled over the mark hidden beneath his tunic, she ghosted her fingers over the path she knew it took.
"I felt you," she murmured. "After I burned that drug out of my system, I could feel you again. You thought you were going to die... You thought I was going to burn you with them."
Loki nodded, studying her.
"I did," he replied softly.
"You felt like-- It felt like you were proud of me."
He offered her a small smile.
"I was," he said, tucking her hair behind her ear.
Something complicated happened along the bond as she gazed up into his eyes. Loki felt the gravity of what she was trying to tell him. How much it meant to her.
"You weren't afraid of me," she whispered.
"I'm not afraid of you, darling."
"You weren't afraid... even though you thought I was going to burn you."
"Reagan," Loki cupped her face in his hands so that she couldn't look away. "Even if that was to have been my fate and the flames had consumed me until I was nothing more than ash... Even then, you could never ever do anything to hurt me. Do you understand?"
Reagan's face crumbled as she nodded and she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew herself closer to him, holding on for dear life - like there wasn't a force in the universe that could part from him.
"I love you," she whispered.
And Loki held her just as tight, held the pieces of her together just as he knew she needed as she trembled in his arms and tried not to fall apart.
I have you, darling... I have you.
They held one another for a long time, just enjoying the peace of being alone and being together until Reagan raised her head and something caught her eye. She gasped softly.
"Loki..."
Loki turned to follow her gaze and found it fixed upon a glass orb. The glass orb. A crystal ball that Loki had gazed into centuries ago and learned the existence of the girl made of fire with whom he'd share the Mark of Sjelevii.
The mattress shifted beside him as Reagan climbed to her feet and padded barefoot through the wreckage she had caused towards the orb. She gazed into it, turning her head to watch as the globe distorted the images beyond it. She reached out a hand but then hesitated, and looked back toward Loki. He only nodded his permission, watching in amusement and knowing full well there would be no deterring her from touching it - her curiosity would win out.
She smiled at him before turning her attention back to the orb and reaching for it with both hands.
The moment she touched it, Loki watched her expression shift. Slowly, as Reagan gazed down into the orb, she lifted it, drawing it closer to her face with her brow pinched and her mouth drawing into a solemn line.
Loki stood from the bed then and moved towards her.
"What is it?" he asked, warily.
"I don't understand..." she told him, glancing up at him quickly before her attention was upon the orb once more. Even in that fleeting eye contact, Loki read her distress. "It looks like I'm- I think I'm stealing something from the Avengers. Some kind of... stone."
Loki allowed himself into her mind and watched the vision unfold. He recognised the place, he'd been there once before. Stark Tower. Together stood the Soldier and the one Reagan was fond of - Natasha. There were others there he did not recognise. And behind them, lined up upon the bar were...
Loki loosed a breath.
Infinity Stones. Three of them. Three in one place. Sitting side by side in identical containment cases.
His stomach turned to ice.
There should never be that many of them in one place. If they were being gathered it could mean--
His train of thought was interrupted as he watched through Reagan's mind's eye as she moved subtly to take up one of the stones and slip it into the pocket of her jacket.
And then, curiously, the scene shifted and Reagan was running up a grassy hill under a cloudy sky and throwing herself into his arms, clutching onto him like he might disappear.
The image faded away to nothing and Loki let out a low breath, willing his racing pulse rate to steady.
Reagan looked up at him then, the orb still clutched in her hands. And Loki was certain that she didn't understand what she had seen. But it had troubled her nonetheless.
"I'd never do that," she told him earnestly. "I wouldn't steal from them."
Loki pushed away any darkness he felt. Buried. Smothered it. Put it somewhere that he could delve into it at a later time. Because right now, Reagan needed the light - light that she so easily seemed to be able to inspire within him.
"Don't trouble yourself, my love," he told her soothingly. "I'm sure it's not what it seems. Don't forget the orb did not show me the whole picture either."
There was no point making her privy to what he knew - no reason to burden her with more, not when the concern was so evident upon her features.
"Now I wish I hadn't looked," she groaned. "I was just hoping I'd get a sneak peek at a new flavour of ice cream that'll be released one day or something. But this going to haunt me."
Loki studied her for only a moment before his mind was made up.
"Then be rid of it," he told her.
"Oh yeah, how?"
"Break it," he said simply.
Reagan threw him a sceptical glance.
"What? No way, I'm not going to do that."
"You were indescribably eager to do so the first time you ever held it," Loki teased.
"Yeah, when I thought I hated you and was trying to ruin your life. I'm not going to do it now that I know what it means to you."
Loki rounded her slowly, coming to stand behind her, gazing over her shoulder at the wretched ball. He lifted his hands to settle over hers. "This object has held such power over me for centuries. I'm not going to allow it to do the same to you. Shatter it."
Reagan looked up at him over her shoulder. "Loki, I'm not going to do that. Your mom gave it to you. You told me it was your most precious possession."
He felt her surprise when he smiled. "I don't think that there would be anything I could do that would delight my mother more than to free myself of the hold that vision had over me all these years past."
Reagan made a small noise of agreement and Loki leaned in to press a slow kiss to the side of her neck, she tilted her head to permit him better access. He ran his hand down the length of her arms before reaching for her waist, drawing her closer to him.
"Don't let it trouble you, darling. We're to make our own fate, you and I. If you don't wish to steal from the Avengers, then you won't." And in that moment he meant it. He and the girl made of fire. They could be enough to defy destiny. "If you don't wish to... run up a hill to embrace me, then you won't."
Reagan giggled a little before nodding pensively, "I do dislike running."
Loki smirked against her neck.
"Smash it."
"Loki, I can't."
"Do it."
"I can't."
Her resistance only spurred him on.
"The first time I decided that I wanted to utterly devour you," he murmured against her skin as he trailed his hands teasingly up her sides, "was that morning you swept in here full to the brim with rage, ready to exact your revenge upon me. You were chaos incarnate and bursting with delight that you'd found a way to get under my skin. You were utterly infuriating and I wanted to throw you down on those sheets you so thoroughly ruined and do such unspeakable things to you. I wanted to make you want me. I wanted you to crave me. I wanted to make you beg for me."
Loki pressed himself against her, and Reagan let out a small gasp when she felt the length of him hardening.
Break the crystal, darling.
A slightly stifled moan spilled from her lips as Loki curved his palm around her breast, kneading at the flesh. She leaned back against him in turn, granting him just the smallest amount of friction he so desperately craved.
"You know, you can have that now without having to destroy more of your possessions," she teased.
"Yes, but where lies the fun in that?" Loki pulled her hips flush to his own. "Shatter it."
Still unsure, Loki felt Reagan brush against the bond, searching for any sincerity in his request. It was to her surprise, that she was met with his overwhelming eagerness. Something verging on pining. And with it, a growing lust that - much to Loki's satisfaction - seemed to crumble her resolve.
"I don't want you to regret it," she whispered.
"Tell me that you're mine," Loki murmured against her skin.
Reagan gasped as Loki grazed his teeth down the slope of her shoulder.
"I'm yours," she promised.
"Tell me how long you'll allow me to keep you."
He laced his fingers through her hair, angling her head so that he could leave a mark upon her pulse point.
"Forever."
Loki hummed his approval against her skin.
"Then there's nothing to regret. Smash it, my love."
A mischievous sort of grin fought its way onto Reagan's face. Loki sensed it.
"Do it," he urged.
Reagan, I need you to do it.
At last, Reagan lifted the orb high and with all her might, launched it at the far wall.
And as it shattered into a million pieces and splinters of glass went scattering across dark marbled floors, the pair laughed delightedly. Loki swept her up into his arms and carried her back towards the bed. He dumped her unceremoniously onto the soft mattress, revelling in the way it made her laugh and then he was upon her like a man possessed. Their mouths crashed together like they'd been starved of one another and Loki let loose a groan as Reagan's hands tugged at him, trying to rid him of his clothes and pull him closer all at once even as he loomed over her.
There was a flash of green light and a sizzle of magic in the air that rid them each entirely of their clothes. They pressed into one another, skin upon skin. Loki trailed his hand down Reagan's body slowly, teasing all the places he knew she most liked. Reagan whimpered her approval into his mouth, her hands kneading at the muscled slopes of his shoulders. She wrapped her legs eagerly around his waist.
Loki knew beyond all else that he'd never tire of the noise she made when he entered her. He could listen to it for an eternity. He kissed her slowly then - deeply - as he rocked back inside of her, cupping her jaw, keeping her close to him. Where she belonged.
As they moved together, with every touch filled with such love and need and passion, the bond hummed to life with matching energy. And Loki couldn't quite fathom how he'd ever survived without that feeling. Not when it felt more necessary to him in that moment than oxygen - than anything.
When they reached their climaxes and Reagan gasped his name and Loki leaned down to press a kiss to her sweat-soaked chest, he felt her lace her fingers tenderly through his hair. Loki drew back and met her eye - smiled as she smiled. He leaned in to press his forehead to hers.
I love you...
I love you...
I love you...
"I suppose we can't spend the whole day in bed, seeing as you have a Kingdom to run now, right?" Reagan teased when they'd each come down from their high.
Loki moved to lay beside her, propping himself up on his elbow so that he could study her face.
"Now that Asgard is ours, I'd argue we can do whatever we desire," he told her, albeit a little smugly.
Reagan rolled onto her side to face him with a playful smirk.
"Ours?" she repeated incredulously.
Loki raised his eyebrows. "You think I wouldn't want you by my side while I sit upon the Throne?"
"No, actually," she quipped. "I figured how it would go is that you'd enjoy the power a little too much until it inevitably went to your head and then I would need to intervene. I've been drafting my talking-down speech in my head for the past fifteen minutes."
"Well, that's rather insulting given what I was just doing to you."
"I can multi-task," she said simply.
Loki poked at her side in mock offense and Reagan giggled as she tried to stave off his attacks. Loki soon pulled her to him, littering her face with kisses while she laughed.
"Tell me honestly though," Loki soon murmured against her temple. "Is that something you'd be willing to do? Rule beside me."
Reagan pulled a face.
"I don't know... I'm not exactly equipped with the skill set to help rule a Kingdom. What would I even do?"
"I envisioned you acting as somewhat of a moral compass, of sorts. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but mine can be... askew, at times."
"I see."
Loki raised his eyebrows at her in question.
"And you'd listen to me?" Reagan asked.
Loki laughed. "Yes, I would listen to you."
"Do you promise?"
"Pinky promise."
Reagan's face split into a delighted smile and she drew herself up to press her lips to his. And when she pulled away slightly to look up at him, his gentle gaze was already upon her.
"Oh no..." she groaned, the smile still plastered on her face as she collapsed against her pillow.
"What is it?"
"This is all going to be a whole lot of fun, isn't it?"
Loki smiled back at her, adoringly. "Yes, I daresay it is."
Notes:
Holy cow. I can't believe we're here, folks. Just the epilogue to go and then we're finished book 1!
I'll be posting the first chap of book 2 the same day I post the epilogue (both are just about ready to go) so you can dive right in if you want to keep reading! I've mapped it out and it's roughly 30 chapters :) so plenty more to come. It will start before the events of Ragnarok. I hope you enjoyed some of the hints at the set up.I also hope you enjoyed all the fluff and sap in this chapter. I figured you'd earned it after quite a few heavy chapters :P
As always, thank you all for reading, and any feedback left is so loved and appreciated.
Final chapter coming soon, and it might just include a guest appearance from a bald loveable odd-ball I've missed way too much since our escape from Asgard.
Chapter 35: Epilogue
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Reagan was sat in a lavish cushioned chair at the base of the steps to Asgard's golden Throne. She was dressed in one of the most exquisite gowns she'd ever laid eyes on. She wore the face of a stranger, courtesy of Loki, who held a glamour in place for each of them.
And she was bored out of her fucking skull.
I cannot believe you've spent your life competing against Thor just to do this. I fully wish I was dead.
In any position of power, there are going to be tedious duties to see to.
Okay, but why do I have to be here for them?
Because you insisted you wanted to join me to - and I quote "see what all the fuss was about."
Yeah, and I don't get it. You and Thor were absolutely gaslit into believing you wanted to do this. My God, I hate your father.
I'm sure if you just gave him a chance, the two of you would get along marvellously.
Reagan glanced back at the Throne to throw him an incredulous look. She found him already smirking amusedly in her direction.
I'm joking.
The morning had passed with a series of interviews after Heimdall had unexpectedly chosen to step down from his position as Gatekeeper. Thor and Loki had seen to the reprieve from power Odin so desperately needed, Loki had explained, and with his sister soon to pass onto the next realm - it was only merciful that he be allowed an extent of leave.
Loki had made the selection of Heimdall's successor his first course of action in his new position of rule and Reagan had thought it all sounded very exciting and had insisted upon tagging along. And so she found herself seated in the Throne Room wearing the face of a stranger - a delegate from Vanaheim here to review peace treaties, Loki had explained to his council members while wearing Odin's face.
Only Reagan was privy now to Loki's true form. Initially, it had been concealed from her also but when she had first looked his way to say something and visibly shuddered at the sight of Odin's face in place of Loki's-- Well. Loki had clearly not cared for that in the slightest. And so, he was making the extra effort to allow her to see beyond his glamour.
You needn't stay, he told her at last. Go find something of more interest. I'll join you when I can.
You could just come with me.
I told you this was important, he reminded her gently.
I know, she grumbled, folding her arms. One more. Maybe the next one will be good. Then I can have you back to myself.
I should probably inform you now that this is hardly the only duty to attend to today.
Ugh! This is the worst! Okay, fine. Just send the next one in.
Loki waved to his guard to usher in the next applicant. I never envisioned being ordered around this much as King.
I'm just trying to make an effort to keep you grounded.
Well, thank you so much but do you truly think it's necessary? I've been in power for little more than a day.
Loki... have you met you?
It was then that Skurge came marching into the Throne Room. The clatter of his armour resounded through the cavernous space. And his face was an expression of sheer determination.
Reagan perked up in her chair at the sight of him.
Loki spotted it.
No, he said adamantly.
Please?
No.
Loki--
The man is a buffoon.
You've never even spoken to him before. I really like him.
Reagan, we can't make him the protector of the realm just because you like him.
Sure, we can. He means well.
I didn't realise that was on the list of qualifications required to guard our entire Kingdom.
Well, if it's not then it should be. Go on, please just give him a chance?
And when it all inevitably turns out to be a catastrophe and I need to find yet another replacement?
Well, then you'll get to say 'I told you so,' and you always enjoy doing that so much.
Loki heaved a weary sigh.
Loki... it would make me really happy.
And that was it; the nail in the coffin.
Reagan smiled as she felt the begrudging defeat sweep along the bond.
Thank you, she told him sweetly before he even had the chance to actually concede. I'll wear that green thing you like tonight.
Yes, I should hope so, he replied stubbornly. ...The horns, too?
Well, of course. It just looks silly without the horns.
Alright, enough of your mockery.
No, really. It's the thing Earth seems to get wrong about lingerie - very little focus on oversized metal headpieces.
Do you want me to appoint the role to this friend of yours or not?
Yes, please.
"Your Highness," Skurge said then with obvious false bravado. "My name is Skurge. And I've come before you to explain why I am the best man for the role of Gatekeeper. Now, you're probably thinking to yourself; 'what makes this nobody think he's qualified for such a distinguished position?' Well, Your Majesty, that question has one simple answer... In fourteen parts. Number one--"
"Leave us," Loki commanded then in Odin's voice. "All of you."
Skurge's face fell as he stared up at the king. He stood there for only a moment before he allowed his head to hang in disappointment and he turned slowly on his heel. Reagan, reading the misunderstanding just a little too late made to reach for him but then stopped herself.
Upon the Throne, Loki rolled his eyes rather dramatically.
Oh yes, this is going to go marvellously, he said to her dryly.
Reagan just waved the comment away impatiently.
"Pssst... Skurge," she whispered.
Skurge stilled, turning towards the strange woman. His brow furrowed, perplexed.
Reagan opened her mouth to say something but then thought the better of it as the Throne Room had not yet emptied entirely. Instead, she beckoned him back to where he had been standing before the King.
Skurge, obviously confused, eyed her suspiciously for a moment before edging back to that place. He raised an eyebrow at her for confirmation.
She shot him a quick wink and a nod.
They waited in silence for the Throne Room to empty. The moment it did, Reagan leapt to her feet, bursting with excited energy.
"Congratulations," she said as she approached him. "You just became the newest Gatekeeper of Asgard."
Skurge openly frowned at her, in a deep state of confusion.
"Why?" he asked.
Reagan shrugged a little. "I guess, it was just a really strong pitch. Also, I believe in you."
"You do?"
"Of course."
"...why?"
"Oh, right," Reagan laughed, realising she was still glamoured. "Skurge, it's me."
"Who?"
She looked back over her shoulder toward Loki.
"Show him," she insisted.
Dutifully, Loki waved a hand the glamour he'd cast over her fell away with a flash of green magic, revealing her true face to the warrior before her.
Skurge paled, his mouth falling agape.
"Reagan?" he choked. "Wha- I thought you were--"
Skurge cut his own sentence short as he strode towards her and wrapped her up in a bone-crushing hug. Reagan let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a wheeze as the Asgardian lifted her up off the ground in something akin to a death grip.
"Skurge, I can't breathe," she managed to say, attempting to hug back what was, essentially, a hulking mass of metal with a person somewhere inside of it.
"Shit-- sorry, love. Sorry," he said quickly, placing her back down on the ground and watching her gulp in a deep breath in amongst a fit of giggles. He took hold of her shoulders drinking her in. "I can't believe you're here. After your escape, word reached us that you'd-- you were... Fuck. Reagan... have you heard about Loki?"
He asked the question so solemnly. He had such sincere concern in his gaze.
It warmed Reagan's heart. She hadn't realised how much she'd missed this strange, gruff warrior who had a fondness for Midgard, mead and even numbers.
"Oh, Loki's fine," she assured him, gesturing her head in the direction of the Throne. "That's him right there."
Loki closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose frustratedly.
Reagan, you cannot be serious.
She just looked his way expectantly.
"Go on," she insisted.
With a glimmer of green magic, the illusion fell away to reveal Loki, now slightly slouched, upon the Throne looking thoroughly displeased.
"Fuck me," Skurge breathed, his face paling as he stared up at the trickster sitting atop the Throne.
Good. At least he has the sense to fear me.
I don't know why. I've invested a lot of time explaining to him that you're actually a sweetheart.
You take that back.
No.
"Is Odin dead, then?" Skurge asked, swallowing thickly, visibly shaken.
"No, no," Reagan assured him. "He's... on a sabbatical. It’s alright though, Thor's watching over him."
"Prince Thor knows about all this," he clarified.
"Yeah," Reagan confirmed simply. "It was actually his idea so that he could stay back on Earth. But enough about us. Do you want the job or not?"
"I mean-- Yeah, course I do. And this isn't a joke?"
"Unbelievably, no," Loki muttered.
Reagan turned back to Skurge with a wide grin.
"Congratulations," she said simply.
After a beat, Skurge let out an excited laugh as he pulled Reagan in for another mildly painful hug.
And Reagan sensed the way Loki prickled at the sight of it. Much more of this and it wouldn't be long before he was sulking like a petulant child.
Skurge let her go at last, thumping an affectionate pat down on her shoulders.
"Thank you," he said sincerely.
"I didn't realise that the two of you were so familiar," Loki drawled, still glowering at the heavily armoured man. "Darling, you never explained to me how very fond this one is of you. Is there something more to this relationship than I'm aware of?"
Loki, don't torture him.
You're the one who said you wanted to do something fun.
Beside her, Skurge seemed to blanche. His eyes followed Loki's frosty gaze to where his hands still rested upon Reagan's shoulders. He snatched them back as if she had burned him and staggered back to what he deemed a respectful distance - several yards away.
Clearly panicked, Skurge pointed an accusatory finger in Reagan's direction. She couldn't quite manage to suppress her smirk.
"What did I fuckin' tell ya? I told you to make it crystal clear to His Majesty that I haven't got any interest in ya, didn't I?"
"Watch how you speak to her," Loki warned, his tone suddenly deadly.
"No, he's right,” Reagan insisted. “He did ask me to do that."
"An obvious rouse to have you lower your guard. Why else would he insist upon such a thing so adamantly?"
"I don't know, Loki," Reagan mused. "Maybe it's because of the jealous murder vibes you're giving off right now?"
Skurge gestured at her in enthusiastic agreement.
Loki glared pure daggers at him.
Reagan moved to pat Skurge's armoured chest reassuringly but the warrior made every effort to remain well and truly out of arm's reach.
"Why don't you remove yourself from our presence while opportunity presents itself--"
"Loki will fill you in on the details of the position when he cools off, I promise."
"--before I change my mind."
"I'm really proud of you, buddy."
At that, Skurge shot Reagan a desperate look that could only be interpreted as one thing; please, stop speaking to me in front of him. He offered Loki a stiff bow before turning on his heel to retreat from the Throne Room.
"And Skurge," Loki called, almost as an afterthought.
He turned, looking nervous.
"Yes, my King?"
"If you ever place a hand on my mortal again, I'll have it cleaved from your body."
"He's kidding," Reagan insisted, waving her hand as if Skurge had nothing to worry about.
"Am I understood?" Loki continued.
Reagan rolled her eyes dramatically.
"Of course, Your Majesty," Skurge insisted, clearly flustered at this point, as he swept into a low bow, simultaneously making his way toward an exit.
When the doors sealed behind him, Reagan folded her arms as she spun on the spot to eye Loki.
"That was so mean," she told him.
Loki looked thoroughly delighted.
"Yes, it was, wasn't it?"
Shaking her head with a smile, she ascended the stairs to the Throne and sank herself down onto his lap. His hand settled on her waist securing her there.
"You're going to try and be at least a little nice to him, right?"
Loki tapped a finger against his chin, pensively.
“That doesn’t sound like me.”
And Reagan giggled, nudging her shoulder against his chest.
"Can we do something a little more interesting now?" she pleaded.
"What did you have in mind?"
Her face brightened. "Well, it only just occurred to me that the whole city thinks you're dead, right?"
"Indeed, they do."
"So, I have some ideas."
"Go on."
"I thought maybe it would be kinda funny to host a vigil for you. Force all the people you don't like to get up and say super nice, respectful things about you."
The very thought of it caused a mischievous grin to spread its way slowly across his features and Reagan couldn't resist but to lean in and press a kiss to his cheek adoringly.
"You have my undivided attention," Loki insisted.
"I was also thinking we should build you a statue."
"Oh. How big a statue?"
"Did you happen to see the one we have in New York?"
Loki beamed.
He traced his fingers along the iridescent cuff adorning her forearm.
"I'm beginning to suspect that you and I were destined for one another," he mused.
"Eh," Reagan teased. "I give it a month."
"Come now, it'll be at least three."
"You sound pretty confident. Care to place a wager on it?"
"Certainly. How does two hundred thousand dollars and a stolen aircraft sound?"
Reagan grinned. "You have yourself a bet, Mischief."
Notes:
So something WILD just happened to me. I've been learning to read tarot cards for a few months for an original fiction piece I've had in my head for a really long time and I just drew a card to take a break before my final read through and edit before uploading. Guys. It was DEATH! For anyone who doesn't know, its a card that can represent a lot of different things, but BIG interpretation of it is usually endings and beginnings. On the day I'm posting the final and first chapters! So now I'm sitting here feeling like I've got the Shining.
To absolutely every last person who read, followed and/or commented on this story, thank you so, so much. It's been such a pleasure writing this fic and I've loved chatting with everyone in the comments. Plenty more to come so I hope you join me for the sequel.
I love you all x
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