Chapter Text
It had been a long day.
No, Val mentally corrected as she fell heavily into one of the chairs that had been set up in the makeshift bar they (she) had put together at the corner of the ship. It had been a long fucking month.
Between settling half of a once mighty kingdom into a less than mighty cargo ship, coordinating the most efficient route to Midgard (and why Midgard of all places, she hadn’t a clue), and adapting to life in quarters closer that were less than strictly comfortable, with companions who were less than strictly well-adjusted…
Suffice it to say that she needed a drink.
With a heavy sigh, Val reached a hand out to pluck one of the bottles she’d left half empty on the edge of the bar the evening before, and blindly grasped for one of the dusty glasses to her right with the other.
Normally, she considered wryly, she would not have bothered with a glass, and instead gone straight for the bottle.
All things considered, however, she was trying (key word: trying) to limit her intake marginally. For the time being, that was. Supplies on the ship were limited, after all, and if the plan they had set in place was at all accurate, it would be another month before they stopped to refuel.
Val nearly groaned out loud at the thought, though she limited herself to a brief grimace as she turned to pour herself a generous glass of the dark liquor--
Only for a movement from across the bar, near the door, to catch her eye.
Slowly, as not to alert whoever (or whatever) had joined her to her having noticed the intrusion, Val finished pouring her drink, before she moved to set the bottle down on the bartop with a gentle clack.
Out the corner of her eye, Val caught the movement again, and she inhaled a steady breath before downing half of her glass in one go, and turning with a wry smile to face the guest.
She had anticipated Thor, or even Korg, maybe.
What the Valkyrie had not anticipated, however, was for her gaze to fall on a small, sleek looking magpie perched on the edge of the wooden bar, its eyes wide as it cocked its head to study her inquisitively.
Val blinked, shook her head slightly, and blinked again.
When the magpie remained, however, she was forced to concede that this was, indeed, happening.
Somehow, this bright-eyed fledgling had survived over a month of space travel undetected, and was looking as fresh and healthy as if it had been out in the open air that very afternoon.
Not that it would have been the most fantastic phenomenon to happen in the Valkyrie’s life, over the past few weeks. It didn’t even make the top three.
“Glad you’re feeling alright.” Val muttered, and raised her glass toward the bird in mock salute before draining what was left of the drink. “That makes one of us.”
In reply, the bird cocked its head in the opposite direction, before taking a small hop closer.
“Don’t get familiar.” the Valkyrie warned drily, though the attempt was half hearted at best. “I’ve had a long week.”
If anything, the magpie seemed to be able to detect the lack of fire behind her words, for it hesitated only briefly before springing forward another few inches, its wings rustling slightly as it neared.
Val watched the movement out the corner of her eye, and noted with some amusement the way the bird seemed to bristle, ever so slightly, when she reached to snag the bottle from beside it.
“Nothing you’d understand.” she lamented as she poured another glass, then paused and made a face.
If she was conversing with a bird, her week had been longer than she’d initially thought.
The thought firmly in mind, Val allowed herself to pour another healthy few inches of liquor into the glass, and took a long swig, following.
As if taking advantage of her distraction, the little magpie moved so that it was beside her elbow now, and cocked its head curiously when Val placed the glass back down so that it was sat inches away from the creature.
“It’s booze.” she explained with a small shake of her head. “I don’t think you’d like it. It’s pretty strong.”
Her gaze fell away from the bird, then, and she allowed herself a somewhat derisive snort. “The Grandmaster didn’t fuck around when it came to liquor.”
If the words were tinged with just a hint of bitterness, well, there was no one around to call her out on it.
It was still odd, she considered as she took another sip, being off of Sakaar for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. Being here, on a crowded ship with a bunch of outcasts and vagabonds.
Being here, acting as a Valkyrie and a member of the royal council. Exactly what she had sworn to herself she would never do again…
With a grunt, Val allowed herself to slam the glass in her hand down on the wooden bartop with a bit more force than was strictly necessary.
Beside her, the magpie jerked at the sound, and its wings fluttered unsteadily, almost as if it was considering bolting, before it took a tentative hop closer to the drink.
“I told you,” Val snapped, “You’re not gonna like it. Leave it.”
At the words, the bird bristled again, then spread its wings and sprung so that it could land on the corner of her glass, its tiny feet curling around the edge to maintain balance.
“Hey!” Val cried, and raised a hand automatically to wave it at the bird. “Get off! Gross.”
If anything, the magpie seemed almost pleased at her chiding, and leaned forward to sip at her drink with enthusiasm.
“Ugh,” Val wrinkled her nose. “Great.”
For a moment, there was silence as the bird continued to peck curiously at the drink.
Then, inexplicably, it seemed to realize that Val had lost interest, and glanced up with what Val would have almost called a frown, were it not a fucking bird.
“Alright,” Val raised her hand again to bat it at the bird and, this time, it conceded to fluttering off of her glass and landing a few inches away. “Fuck off. I need a break from weirdly intelligent creatures, right now.”
Unsurprisingly, the magpie did not budge. Rather, it cocked its head again, and moved forward in a gesture that might have almost been mistaken as curious.
Val held out another long moment, and continued to eye the bird warily, before she huffed and moved to take another long sip of her drink.
What harm could it do, anyway?
“I’m not used to this.” she admitted. The words came out softer than she had anticipated, and Val growled slightly before continuing, louder now, “This whole…‘Serve the throne, advise the king’ deal. I hadn’t really thought I’d be here again.”
She glanced sideways, and found that the magpie was simply watching her studiously, its features, if possible, slightly more somber than before.
With a huff, Val turned back to face her drink, and bit the inside of her cheek briefly as she considered her next words.
“Thor’s alright, I guess.” she muttered. “A little headstrong, maybe, but…But he’s no Odin.”
The words were entirely true, and Val felt some of the tension leave her shoulders as she spoke them.
“He’ll make a good king.” she continued, and felt more than saw the magpie shuffle slightly at her elbow.
When she turned again, the bird was studying the bottles lining the wall across from them, rather than Val herself, and she got the distinct feeling that it was acting in a somewhat begrudging manner.
Or, she thought with a small huff, maybe that was just the alcohol talking.
“And Bruce is okay.” Val spoke again, more to herself than anything now, as she studied the liquor swirling at the bottom of her glass. “I still prefer the Big Guy, but he seems to like Thor.” she paused, then snorted, “Seems to really like Thor.”
To her surprise, the magpie let out a small, almost indignant sort of squawk, and Val turned to regard it with a small smirk.
“I don’t know if it’s like that.” she conceded. “But I don’t know them well enough to say for sure.”
She paused and, when it seemed that the bird was not going to do much more than continue to watch her, continued, “Know them more than Lackey, though.”
Almost immediately, the bird shuffled again, and hopped back a few steps to regard her with those wide, speculative eyes.
Val snorted again. “I guess I can admit to you that I can’t get a read on him at all.” she shrugged. “It’s not that he’s…antagonistic. Though apparently he has been, in the past.”
She paused, and made a face when the bird screeched again.
“Those are Bruce’s words, not mine.” she told it. “Though I doubt Thor would speak a word against him.”
The bird stilled slightly, before shifting again and taking another small hop back.
“You’re jumpy.” Val commented with a slightly raised brow, before she turned back to her drink and paused thoughtfully.
“He adores him.” she murmured, at length, so low the words were nearly indistinguishable. “Absolutely dotes on him. I--” she huffed, and turned to shoot the magpie a long look. “I don’t think he’d hear a word against him, at this point.”
Beside her, the bird seemed to have stilled almost entirely, its breaths causing its rounded chest to rise and fall shallowly as it continued to study her with almost rapt attention.
“Guess I have to like him.” Val admitted, and managed a slightly dry grin. “They’re pretty much inseparable, at this point. They way they look at each other…”
She trailed off, and shrugged slightly before reaching for her bottle again.
“They have issues.” Val commented, as she began to pour herself another drink. “I--”
Before she could continue, the door to Val’s left slid open, and she had only enough time to turn and face the intrusion before Thor himself was striding into the room, a small, polite smile on his face as he briefly met Val’s gaze, before his own skittered away to survey the room.
“Highness,” Val greeted, and raised her glass again before taking another swig.
“Valkyrie.” Thor greeted with a small nod, “I trust that--”
He cut himself off abruptly, then, as his gaze landed on a spot over Val’s shoulder, before his face brightened noticeably, and his smile widened into a sunny grin.
“Brother!” he cried, and surged forward so that he was stood at Val’s side, his eye not on her at all but--
But on the magpie, Val realized with a jolt. The magpie that was still perched on the bartop at her elbow, its wide gaze trained on Thor, now.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Thor continued jovially, though Val noted with some surprise that the smile on his face was a bit strained, now. “What--”
“Thor,” Val interrupted smoothly, and leaned forward until Thor had little choice but to meet her eye. “That’s a bird.”
There was a beat, wherein which Thor continued to study her blankly, before he huffed another small, weak sort of smile.
“Oh,” he breathed, and shook his head as the smile widened a fraction further. “No. That’s Loki!”
Immediately, the bird squawked again, and flapped its wings almost indignantly, and Val took a moment to simply stare in bewilderment before she turned to shoot Thor a dubious frown.
“He’s a shapeshifter.” Thor declared, as if it explained anything, and raised a hand to gesture at the bird. “He--He just does this. Sometimes.”
Before Val could reply (before she could even think of how to reply), the bird at her elbow flapped its wings, and flew forward to begin pecking furiously at Thor’s face, its tiny body almost a blur in the speed of its movement.
“Ow,” Thor muttered, then, louder, “Ow. Alright! I get it.”
Something about the words seemed to appease the magpie, for not a moment later it settled, and landed on the edge of Thor’s already outstretched hand with another ruffle of its feathers.
“I know,” Thor practically cooed, his attention almost entirely on the bird, now, before he continued lowly, “What’s happened, brother? Why…”
Thor trailed off, then, though he did not need to continue, for the situation to catch up with the Valkyrie.
That look, the glimmer in Thor’s eye…
It was the same she had seen countless times, since the beginning of their voyage.
It was a look he only held when his brother was in the same room.
“Fuck!” Val cried, and staggered to her feet.
Immediately, Thor stilled, and raised his free hand as if attempting to shelter the bird still perched on the opposite.
The bird, that turned to face Val with those round, startlingly intelligent eyes.
Of fucking course.
“Fuck you!” Val cried and, ignoring Thor’s somewhat bemused expression, jabbed a finger at the magpie before striding past the two and out into the hallway.
It was only when she had made it back to her own chambers (the chambers she, unfortunately, shared with the Asgardian Royals) that Val allowed herself to deflate, and felt the righteous anger that had been curdling within her gut ebb, somewhat.
So the crown prince was a shapeshifter. Big deal.
At the back of her mind, Val considered that she had known that, or at least had been informed of it, at some point.
Again, it was hardly the most remarkable thing that had taken place in her life, recently.
In spite of the realization, Val felt something within her gut shrivel slightly at the idea that she had, even unwittingly, shared so much information with Thor’s brother, at all.
With a small sigh, more resigned than she would have liked to admit, Val moved forward to begin preparing her bedroll for the long evening ahead.
She had already drank more than originally planned, though somehow she felt as if sleep would not come easily, that night.
Not with the new information she had ingested in the past hour, at any rate.
---
It wasn’t until the afternoon following the altercation that the Valkyrie saw Loki again, and by that time she had (mostly) made peace with the events of the prior evening, in her mind.
She was somewhat pleased to find that the prince had shifted back to his Aesir form, at some point, and was currently poring over what appeared to be a set of schematics with Thor at the opposite end of the loading bay-turned-throne room.
When Val caught sight of him, she staggered to a brief halt, and hesitated uncertainly for a moment as she watched Thor turn and mutter something to Loki beneath his breath.
In turn, Loki nodded slightly, and leaned almost imperceptibly closer to his brother to murmur a reply.
Something within Val warmed slightly at the sight, though she quickly shook herself of the feeling, and shifted in preparation to continue her trek through the hall--
Only to freeze again when she felt Loki’s gaze land on her, his expression a carefully blank mask, save for the slight widening of his eyes.
And, when Val turned, the barely-there furrow of his brow.
For a moment, the two simply studied each other, Val unable to force herself to move, and Loki simply watching her with that near unnervingly steady gaze.
(And, for what felt like the millionth time since the evening before, Val cursed herself for not having recognized the familiarity of the magpie’s eyes sooner).
Then, after what felt like a lifetime, Loki shifted slightly, and offered her a small nod, so shallow it was more a tilt of the head than anything.
It was something, however, and Val found herself returning the gesture before she had fully registered her intention to do so.
Seemingly satisfied, Loki quirked a ghost of a smile before turning his attention back to the plans Thor held, already nodding along to something Thor was saying and moving slightly closer under the guise of getting a closer look.
With a huff, Val turned on one heel, and continued on her way, unable to quite quell the comfortable sort of familiarity that had lodged itself into the space between her ribs.