Chapter 25: Magic
"After work we need to go to the store," Ellie calls from the bathroom as she dries her face. Loki continues to lounge in bed. He is not a morning person and frequently lingers long after the alarm goes off. Several times a week he makes her late and Eleanor teases him about being a spoiled prince. "Former prince," is his usual irritated reply.
"I hate the market," Loki grumbles from the bedroom. His grumpiness is far more appealing than it should be.
"We're out of ice cream. You finished it last night," Ellie reminds him. There is a beat of silence.
"Eleanor, after you complete your menial tasks for the day we must venture to the hellish place known as the grocery," he says. Ellie giggles and shakes her head, selecting her toothbrush and coating the bristles in a liberal amount of toothpaste.
She hums to herself as she brushes. The growing ease of their routine makes her feel something close to happiness, although that's not quite it. Contentment, she decides. She's content with Loki, as bizarre as it sounds.
But it won't last. She isn't fool enough to think the peace will last, not with Loki.
Ellie rinses, not paying much attention as she runs the brush under the water. Satisfied with the cleanliness of her mouth, she attempts to return the brush to its proper place next to the skin, but she is unable to do so.
Frowning, she watches without comprehending as the toothbrush becomes pliable. It slips through her fingers, slithering down the back of her hand to wrap itself around her wrist.
Beady little eyes blink up at her and she lets out a shrill squawk as she violently shakes her wrist, trying to dislodge the tiny serpent that was once her toothbrush. The snake even bears the same markings, white with blue accents.
"Ew, ew," she chants. The shaking is clearly not working and she abandons this tactic in favor of prying the thing off with her free hand. It comes away fairly easily and Ellie holds it just behind the head between her thumb and forefinger. It wiggles as Ellie holds it close to her face, observing as a tongue darts out between fangs that appear to be bristles.
"I anticipated screaming at the very least," Loki says, his voice in her ear. She jumps slightly, shocked by his sneakiness as usual, but she just keeps looking at the toothbrush sized snake.
"God of Mischief, indeed," replies Ellie. "Aw, it's kinda cute."
"Do Midgardians not fear snakes?" asks Loki, sounding genuinely confused.
"Most do," Ellie explains with a shrug. "I'm a country girl at heart. These little guys were every where when I was growing up."
"Damn."
With laugh, she turns around, only slightly surprised to see Loki standing so close.
"I truly thought there would be screaming at the very least," he says again, pouting. "Even the stoic and strong beauties of Asgard fear the serpent."
Ellie has no desire to talk about the beauties of Asgard.
"Can I keep him?" she asks. Before Loki can answer Ellie has a startling revelation. "This is magic," she observes.
"Oh no. I believe this can be explained by Jane Foster's beloved science." He is such a sarcastic motherfucker, but Ellie will not be distracted.
"Loki, you used magic!"
"Yes," he says slowly, as if he is speaking to a moron.
"Magic!"
"Obviously," he drawls.
He isn't getting her excitement so she throws herself at him. The snake falls to the floor with a thud, indicating it's back to being a toothbrush, as she wraps her arms around his neck, yanking him down into a hug. Although the tension in his frame is apparent, Eleanor is too happy for him to care about his discomfort.
This is progress, the first concrete evidence that he is better off here with her then alone.
"I am thrilled for you," she murmurs into his bare chest. She looks up at him, feeling strangely misty eyed. "Magic," she whispers, resting her hand over his heart.
The beat of it is fluttering and frantic.
Loki is frowning at her, his eyes darting as he looks randomly at each of her facial features. Lips, eyes, ears, cheeks all get a glances as he struggles with something unknown to Eleanor. Her mouth gets the most attention and when she licks her bottom lip he comes to a decision.
Bruising hands latch onto her hips and Ellie is airborne, pushed back into the counter and lifted to sit there. There is no time to breathe or register her sudden change in location because he is kissing her, wild and unrestrained and desperate.
She gasps and Loki's fingers dig into her hips when it takes her a beat too long to respond.
Her whole body lights up, remembering this, and now that she's allowing herself to want this again – she spent a lot of time studiously not thinking about it since his return – it is everything.
He kisses her dizzy, stealing her air and coaxing needy noises from her chest. Wanting this much hurts, as does the way he sinks his teeth into her lower lip, and Eleanor loves this, needs this in a way that is all consuming.
He kisses her as if he is punishing her for something and her fingers tangle in his dark hair, punishing him back.
It's her current job, after all; punishing him.
Ellie loses ground as he leans her back over the sink, her head eventually hitting the mirror. Something cracks, but it is not Ellie so she can hardly be bothered.
Legs spread to accommodate his hips, her feet flap around uselessly for a moment before she manages to steady herself, digging her heals into the back of his thighs and making him groan.
"Fuck." It's a hoarse moan as he grinds into her.
"Language!" Those fingers are definitely going to leave bruises, but Eleanor is far past the point of caring.
It's been so fucking long. Since doing her high school boyfriend at age sixteen, Ellie's never gone more than a few weeks without sex. It's been months and months and months. Without him she built a mental fence around the part of her that needs to be touched like this, but it's gone now and she groans in frustration and desire because she can't get close enough.
The position on the bathroom counter is awkward as they pull and rip at each other, but Eleanor doesn't even consider retiring to their bed. Anything might ruin the moment, might remind Loki that she holds this power over him and that he is faintly disgusted by the mortal part of her flesh.
There is unwanted space between them and Ellie gets yelled at once more for her language before she realizes that he is tugging at the waistband of the leggings she slept in last night.
"Hurry," she manages. She scrambles around, trying her best to help him get her naked even if finding the leverage is difficult. "Loki, hurry."
A shiver goes through his whole body at the sound of his moaned name. Her panties get pulled off along with her leggings, leaving her only in an over-sized t-shirt, and Loki catches her jaw in his hand, forcing her to look him in the eye.
They are green. They are still green, feral and angry and needy, but still green.
"Say my name."
Ellie closes her eyes, trying in vain to compose herself. At this point it seems possible to get off on his voice alone, but then his hand is between her legs.
"Loki."
He grunts and Ellie watches him watch his own hand work for a moment. It's too much and not what she wants.
"Loki," she says again, tugging his wrist. He snarls at her and Eleanor's feels like her every muscle is pulsing in time with her frantically beating heart. Blood rushes in her ears and it is frustrating because she'd rather hear just him. She leans back and uses her feet to pull at his sweatpants. "Loki, please. Hurry, hurry."
And he finally understands, pulling her hips to the edge of the counter. The noise Eleanor makes when he finally slides into her is so fucking desperate it might be embarrassing, second only to Loki's own cry of pleasure and pain.
"Fuck," she hisses, her head falling back to hit the mirror. He hitches her legs higher up on his waist and Eleanor cries out again. "Move," she insists.
He does.
It is brutal and perfect. He demands that she looks at him but it's hard with her eyes rolling back in her head with every thrust. He tugs on her hair when she forgets to maintain eye contact. She doesn't know where to touch him, finally setting her palms on the spot where neck meets shoulder, holding on.
Loki's grunts are beautiful. So is the way his hair falls in a curtain around them. His eyes are green and pleasure twists its way through Eleanor's limbs.
He's gone just as long without this and far too soon his thrusts get erratic so she knows the end is near. For now.
When she touches herself where they're connected, Loki watches for a moment. The expression on his face does it for Eleanor and she goes willingly over that cliff, muffling her screams in his neck.
He joins her. Eleanor's never heard her name sound so beautiful as it does in this moment. There is reverence and fear in his voice. Loki is shaking in her arms and Eleanor shakes too. She lets her legs fall from his waist as he stands a bit straighter, but refuses to stop hugging him. Maybe if she holds on long enough they'll both stop shaking.
Loki whimpers into her skin and Eleanor turns her head to kiss him, but he's gone suddenly. Without him propping her up, she slides off the counter, landing in a heap on the bathroom floor. She looks up to see him angry, his back pressed against the closed bathroom door as he regards her with such distain.
"Loki?"
"No." He is shaking his head at her, glaring. Eleanor doesn't understand what she did wrong. "No. No, you will not do this to me. It will not happen again."
And then he turns on his heel, opens the door, and flees, leaving her horribly confused, still sitting alone and shaken on the bathroom floor. Her body hasn't quite managed to catch up to this stunning turn of events, and little tingles of pleasure plague her system, reminding her how good it was only moments before.
Ellie gives herself another few moments to catch her breath and clear her head before searching him out once more.
He isn't in the house and Ellie wanders through her little garden, moving around back. She knows exactly where he'll be, but feels the need to make sure anyway. Loki always goes to the same spot when he needs distance from Ellie.
Shielding her eyes from the sun, Ellie makes out his dark silhouette in his usual position on top of the rocky outcropping that backs up to their cabin. After particularly quiet days, Loki climbs to the top of the bluff, staring determinedly at the stars.
Now he sits still as a statue, despite the intensity of the morning sun.
She returns to their bedroom, crawling across the mattress to retrieve her cell phone on the bedside table. Frowning and staring out the window at Loki's rock, Ellie dials Jane.
"You're late," says her boss in lieu of greeting.
"I know," Ellie replies. She curses herself, hating the tremor she hears in her own voice.
"What happened?" Jane asks, reacting to that damn tremor. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you? We're coming—"
"No!" Ellie manages to interrupt Jane's rant, horrified at the prospect of Jane and Darcy showing up to find Eleanor such a mess and Loki so fragile. "I'm fine. He didn't hurt me."
Not physically anyway.
"Eleanor," Jane says, seriously concerned.
"I'm just not feeling very well," she replies. "I'm going to need to take a sick day."
Jane is silent for a very long time. Ellie tires not to ruin it with her tears.
"Ellie," says Jane, talking quietly. "You can talk to me. You know that right? I'm not going to judge you or try to convince you to send Loki back to Asgard. I'll just listen. That's it."
Ellie takes a shuddering breath, unable to hide her little sniffle. "I'm fine," she repeats. Jane sighs again.
"Text me every hour to ease my worry or Darcy and I will be knocking down your door quicker than you can say mischief," Jane continues.
"Okay, Mom."
"Do you have your panic button?"
"Yes," she snaps, losing patience.
"Good. Text me. And we love you, Eleanor."
"Yeah!" Darcy yells so loud Ellie can clearly hear her thought the phone.
"Thanks," she replies, pleased for a moment. "See you tomorrow."
Ellie let's herself cry into her pillow, understanding nothing at all. Not his reaction. Not what she wants from him. Nothing.
Nothing at all.
Eventually hiding under the covers just feels way too pathetic, so she gets up, pulling on a ratty pair of cut off shorts, a yellow sports bra, giant straw sun hat, and aviator sunglasses. Lugging along her iHome, Ellie posts up in the garden for the day.
She weeds and tends and waters, letting the smell of the soil soothe her.
Loki finds her hours later, laying on her back in the dirt between raised beds of spinach and onions. Her eyes are closed as she smells a basil leaf and absently sings along with her stereo, enjoying the warmth of the late afternoon sun.
"No wonder you are currently so brown," he murmurs.
As usual, his silent approach terrifies Ellie. Her surprise has her scrambling into a sitting position, squeaking slightly as she does so.
"Dude, you're going to give me a heart attack," she mutters, pushing her palm into her chest in an attempt to calm the frantic fluttering of her heart. "You could walk a little louder or something.
"And spoil all my fun?" he replies, continuing to meander through her garden, intently observing her crop. "I think not."
Silently sitting in the dirt, Ellie waits for him to explain what the fuck is going on with him today, but he continues to wander amongst the veggies. Sighing heavily, she hauls herself up, brushing dirt from her skin. Loki is suddenly standing directly in front of her, eyes raking over her dirty, sweaty exposed skin.
"You wear so little," he says. As she searches his face, he averts his eyes.
"It's hot," she explains.
"I am aware," Loki replies dryly. At some point he changed out of his PJ pants into leather attire, a ridiculous getup for the summer in New Mexico. She's never seen the green and black outfit before. His wardrobe must have returned with his magic. "You perspire extensively," he observes, seeming to actually resent the moisture on her skin.
"It's hot," she repeats.
Loki reaches up and after a moment's hesitation, he lays his cool hand across her forehead. She sighs as the chill runs through her. The sweat seems to evaporate right off her and upon further inspection, Ellie finds the dirt gone too.
She grins, fully prepared to gush about his returning magic but then his palm moves from her forehead to cover her mouth.
"Do not start that once more," he says. "It is difficult enough to refrain from fucking you into the earth when you wear only that."
Loki said a curse word. It shouldn't be as hot as it is. Eleanor is speechless.
"Eleanor."
"Humm?"
"Eleanor."
She shakes her head, trying to clear it.
"Are you going to explain why you left me alone on the bathroom floor after some of the best sex of my life?" she demands.
Loki smirks. "Some of the best?"
"That thing in hallway in the bunker was definitely up there. And the bit with my hands glued to the headboard. And from behind with me on my knees. Or when—"
"Enough!" Loki might be blushing. Or maybe it is the sun.
"Do you not like it as much as I do?" she asks, pouting. "Is that why it will never happen again?"
Loki winces. "I might have been a bit hasty with that declaration."
"So, it's happening again?" She brightens immediately. "What changed your mind?"
Loki shakes his head. Eleanor gets close, letting her hand trail down from covering his heart to palming his cock.
"When is it happening again?" she whispers. Pointing her chin to her chest, Ellie looks up at him from beneath her eyelashes.
Loki sweeps her off her feet, slinging her over his shoulder, and marches off in the direction of their bed.
"Guess this is one way to answer the question," Ellie says as he tosses her on the mattress.
And then there is no reason to say anything at all for a very long time.
He wakes before Eleanor and takes the moment to observe her free of consequence and without her knowledge. The vigor of the previous night's activities leaves the songbird in a deep sleep, and Loki smirks, pleased to have exhausted her so thoroughly.
In sleep, her youth is evident, all her edges going soft and the strength so apparent during waking hours is muted into a vulnerability that will never fail to stun Loki.
She trusts him enough to sleep at his side.
As misplaced and foolish as this trust is, it makes him feel no less honored and terrified in equal measure.
There was a time not so long ago when he had nothing to lose. But now he has Eleanor.
She is pressed into his side as he lies flat on his back. Her nose is against his shoulder, her hand wrapped around his wrist and her leg thrown over his hip. The closeness and clinginess should be stifling, but instead Loki turns towards her.
He revels in the very slight ache in his disused muscles. Languishing in his white cell and doing nothing but sitting at Eleanor's side day by day, Loki allowed his form to lose its strength. Inactivity makes him weak and the twinge in his limbs might be a reminder of nighttime pleasures, but overall not a positive.
Perhaps he will join Eleanor in her ridiculous running about with no destination as a means to "stay in shape."
But no. There will be no time for that. His magic is in his control now and according to the plan that is written on the neatly folded paper tucked in the pants Eleanor pulled from his hips and discarded on the floor somewhere between the kitchen and the bed, it is now time for Loki to make his retreat to the Isle of Solitude.
There will be no "jogging." There will be no boring days spent watching Eleanor. There will be no Eleanor at all, not until he can manage an escape.
This plot that was a foundation and a comfort yesterday, is daunting now that he spent the majority of the passed fourteen hours buried inside Eleanor.
He knew from the moment he left her in the bathroom after that messy and embarrassingly brief coupling the morning previous that he's ruined his own plan once more.
Being with her is dangerous and addictive.
Worse still, it strokes the minuscule ember of hope in Loki's chest that perhaps her affection is genuine, that perhaps her affection is true. Perhaps she is not currently plotting her own revenge that will leave him devastated, turning his heart harder and colder than it was when he let go of the bridge.
The majority of his previous day was spent on the rocks, desperately trying to hate her once more. Hours spent alone in thought did nothing to kill the hope and he returned to her resigned to the miserable fate of leaving her here and still hoping in conjunction.
Finding her half clothed and earthy amongst her vegetables, his resolve fractured with the memory of her touch so recent and her more than willing to give once more.
Throughout the night he woke her again and again. The long hours ran together in an endless stream of sighs and groans. Her laughter surprised him. Her willingness to indulge his every suggestion and desire did not.
With her the lines of control were blurred. Although she acquiesced to his every request, she did so with a smirk that made Loki question who truly held the power in that moment.
And then it no longer mattered.
He hoped that if he filled every nighttime hour with Eleanor that he would awake in the morning, his need gone. After so much time spent lying with Eleanor, surly he should be bored by now. Surely he should be cured of this desire that torments him so.
Instead he finds himself holding her closer, reassuring himself that she is here in true, that she is no vision from the Tesseract or a delusion bred by the Mad Titan.
Still, the plan must stand but he will not be hasty.
Before the removal of their bond he must be entirely certain that he will indeed be able to escape the Isle. Where the risk of remaining trapped there, enduring his punishment, was once acceptable, it is now not.
Eleanor's aging is erratic but she could be dead and gone long before Loki sees his freedom. More likely, in his long absence, she will find another to bestow smiles upon.
The Captain of America, the man out of time, he is more than willing to receive Eleanor's smiles and more.
No, he must have no doubt that a speedy escape is inevitable and to do so will require much practice and experimentation.
"Loki?" The sleepy murmur has his eyes opening.
"Eleanor."
For a long moment they stare at one another in a way that is most uncomfortable, but then Eleanor's grinning makes Loki grin in turn.
The whole situation is painfully unbecoming.
"Good morning," she says, shuffling closer to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
His grip tangles in her hair, prolonging the kiss and Eleanor groans against his lips, huffing slightly in surprise as he abruptly rolls her on her back. There was no excess energy to spare to clothe themselves before falling asleep last night and Loki is thankful for their nudity now.
She is warm and moving beneath him, arching off the bed to close the miniscule distance separating them.
Although she is a skilled actress, this Loki believes to be genuine need. Eleanor's history is proof enough of her sexual nature and Loki could be any of her faceless lovers.
As delightful as Eleanor's adventurousness proved last night, it meant that they did not spend nearly enough time in this tradition position. He quite likes her like this, trapped by the cage of his body, unable to leave him without extreme effort.
Loki pushes her hair from her face and Eleanor giggles.
His first reaction upon hearing that giggle on this night passed was anger. The laughter seemed mocking, but Eleanor is the only woman he's ever encountered to smile her way through intercourse and it became quickly apparent that the sound she produces indicates her joy in this.
He asked her about the laughter somewhere between giving her orgasm three and five.
"Sex can be fun," she replied as she attempted to catch her breath. "The dark, intense thing we've done is fucking hot, but it can be fun too. Lighten up."
He tried to lighten, even if it was only for one night.
And the following morning, apparently, if his current position and desire is any indication.
He's grown to covet her laugh, but the sound she produces now is a rumble.
"Is that your stomach?" he asks, frowning down at the songbird trapped by his arms and weight.
She does not acknowledge his inquiry as she locks her ankles behind his back.
"Eleanor, you have not eaten in sometime." There was an attempted midnight indulgence in ice cream. They stumbled out of bed only to find the freezer empty. Eleanor pouted for a moment and was delighted to find that his magic extends to the culinary arts. She ate his ice cream but that was hardly substantial. "Did you have supper? Luncheon?"
She scrapes her teeth against his collarbone and the sound she draws from his mouth is foreign and embarrassing.
"You are half mortal. There is no shame in your lack of stamina."
Loki finds himself on his back once more and the protest dies on his tongue.
"I'll show you stamina," she says, smirking.
She lets out a birdlike squawk that fits with her pet name as he flips her onto her back again. He'll forget her need for food and rest, but it will be on his terms.
Inside her once more, he finds he cares little about anything else.
They are forty-five minutes late to work. Against her better judgment, Eleanor hands over her cell as she drives, letting the God of Really-Hot-Morning-Sex text Jane and Darcy to assure them that they are on their way.
She does not really want to know what he ends up saying especially given the way he is smirking in the passenger's seat.
Loki does not even enter the lab when they arrive, stalking straight to the tree in the courtyard without a word. It's an abrupt change from the willing lover in her bed and the mischievous little boy sending texts to Jane.
Eleanor swipes her card, the glass doors open before her, and both her bosses stop their work to stare when she enters.
"Sorry," Ellie murmurs.
Even as she apologizes for her lateness she grins. Her legs are Jell-O and her heart is full and she will probably not be able to stop grinning at any point today.
"Orgasm induced coma?" Jane asks, brandishing her cell. "Is this a joke?" She looks at Ellie for a few beats. "Apparently not."
Despite her shower and her tamed hair, Eleanor feels like she must have that well fucked, glassy-eyed look about her. She is moving like an old woman, not used to being the partner with less stamina, but it's the best kind of ache.
Although sitting is not going to be pleasant.
"Oh, I hate you," says Darcy mutters, turning away to tinker with some bizarre looking machine.
"Are you okay?" Jane asks, frowning.
Eleanor nods enthusiastically and Jane rolls her eyes.
"Here's all the work you missed while you were banging your megalomaniac. Get on it."
"What the hell is he doing?" asks Jane, speaking for all of them.
It's a very good question.
"That's a very good question, Jane," says Darcy, slurping on a smoothie. Her feet swing from her seat on Ellie's desk where they've all gathered to eat lunch and watch Loki act weird.
Eleanor nibbles on a carrot, her eyes following Loki as he circles his tree, over and over.
"I mean really, what the hell is that?" Jane waves a hand in Loki's general direction. Eleanor doesn't even bother to turn her head away from the sight outside at the sound of folders spilling to the floor. "Sorry, Ellie," mutters Jane.
"Should we tell someone?" asks Darcy.
"Tell them what? That the God of Lies is pacing around a tree like a zoo animal? It's not exactly threatening," says Jane, leaning to sit on the edge of Eleanor's desk.
"It is threatening to the grass! He's going to kill it all and leave a path of dirt around that tree in our lovely courtyard."
"Is this a good time to mention that he can do magic again?" Ellie asks.
"What?" shrieks Darcy.
"Since when?" demands Jane.
They are not nearly as happy as Ellie was when she heard that magic returned, although this is probably a good thing because Eleanor is extremely jealous.
"A day ago," she admits.
"Is that why you called in sick?" Jane asks.
"I thought all the sex was why she called in sick," says Darcy.
"How much magic?" asks Jane. "Like, is he up to destroy the world power here or what?"
"I don't know how it works, Jane."
"Guess, Ellie. I need to know."
"He is up to enough power to turn a toothbrush into a snake and assist in some really weirdly awesome ceiling sex."
Darcy cackles and nearly falls off Ellie's desk.
"Also, he makes really good ice cream."
Darcy is doubled over in laughter, muttering things like "iced cream," "oh my God," and "Frost Giant." Eleanor realizes how her words sounded and chuckles a little herself.
"That's it!" says Jane. "I'm calling Fury."
Ellie doesn't listen to Jane's call or Darcy's slurping. Loki's circular pacing gets all her attention.
He is taking powerful, measured steps and he never looks away from the little green bird perched on top of the tree in the center of the path he's carving. Loki's lips are moving as if he is muttering to himself. On occasion his hands will move in graceful arches at his sides.
This is by far the most suspicious thing Ellie's seen from her god yet.
Suddenly Loki's footsteps falter as the bird takes flight. Ellie's eyes go wide as it hits a barrier, lighting up a dome of bright purple energy that surrounds the tree along the line of Loki's pacing.
Loki tugs at his hair and seems to curse at the bird that lies twitching in the grass, but he keeps on pacing.
Ellie looks at Darcy, expecting the engineer to be gaping and marveling at the magical display, but she is unbothered, continuing to swing her legs and sip her smoothie as if nothing happened.
"Did you see that?" Eleanor asks.
"See what?"
"The bird?"
"What bird?"
Ellie is pretty freaked out at this point.
"There was this sort of purple glow," she mutters.
"I think all that sex is making you see things. Shit!" Darcy notices Loki's noticing of their avid staring and leaps off Ellie's desk, trying to hide on the far side. Ellie gives him a shrug and a little wave when they make eye contact. He takes up his pacing once more, but it is slow, casual, and totally different from the muttering, magical thing he was doing before.
When he starts freaking whistling Ellie's had enough. She finishes her carrots and gets back to work.
"What was all that today?" she asks when they pile into her terrain vehicle to make the trip to her shack at the end of her workday.
"I know not what you mean," Loki replies, lying through his teeth.
Eleanor rolls her eyes.
"You were making me dizzy with that pacing," she says, eyes fixed on the dirt road before them. "Round and round and round."
"Ah, that was what you delightful mortals call 'exercise,'" he explains giving her his most charming of smiles.
Eleanor rolls her eyes once more.
"I saw the bird," she continues. "And the purple glow when it hit the weird bubble thing you had set up."
In his genuine surprise he forgets to lie.
"Did you?" he asks, impressed. Perhaps there is more magic in the songbird than the protection wrought by her wayward father. "Interesting."
"So what were you doing?"
In truth he was attempting to free the bird from spells he could expect to find on the Isle. It was a dismal failure and he glowers thinking on it. For reasons that are obvious, Eleanor must not know this.
"Not all exercise is physical, my sweet songbird," he murmurs. "It has been quite some time since I've used my magic."
Eleanor nods as if she understands, but suspicion stays in her gaze.
Perhaps Loki will be able to fuck it out of her.
"You need to be nicer to Jane and Darcy," Eleanor declares one night after dinner. Loki sits on a stool at the counter, watching her clean and rolling his eyes.
Since the return of his magic he's been much crankier. Although he seems unwilling to take out his foul mood on Eleanor, the same cannot be said for his bosses.
Today, after doing the same pacing around the tree, he spent nearly half an hour hovering menacingly over Darcy's workstation. The poor girl's hands shook so badly she couldn't hold a tool.
He is definitely up to something, but Eleanor thinks it's not going well and he seems to be venting his frustrations on her bosses.
"No."
"Dude, come on!" Ellie groans. "They shouldn't have to deal with a hostile work environment because you might be cranky on any particular day. Quiet and sullen is one thing, but there is no need to terrify them."
"But I enjoy terrifying them. It is highly amusing to see how easy it is to startle your cohorts," he tells her, grinning like a mischievous little boy.
Ellie sighs, the knife she is cleaning slips, and she nicks her finger.
"Fuck," she mutters. The blade clatters into the soapy water as she studies the tiny drop off blood pooling at the tip of her finger.
"You are hurt."
Eleanor jumps about a foot in the air when he appears at her side. Now that she no longer can feel his every movement, he is back to his old tricks of sneaking up on her.
Only this time, startling her doesn't seem to have been his intention. He gently takes her hand and studies her extremely minor injury, frowning deeply.
"I'm fine."
"You are bleeding."
"It's fine." She pulls her finger away from him and sticks it in her mouth in an attempt to stop the bleeding.
"That is highly unsanitary." He takes her hand, pulling her finger out of her mouth with a pop, and sticking it in his own mouth.
"That's gross!" Eleanor says, shrieking and giggling. She yanks on her hand but he doesn't let go until he's good and ready.
"I am a god," he informs her when he gives her, her finger back. His smile is light and teasing. "Surely my mouth is more cleansing than yours."
Ellie rolls her eyes. "Do you know what is really not clean? Dirty dishes. Why don't you finish them?"
Loki lets out a barking laugh.
Ellie stares at him, raising a single eyebrow.
"This suggestion was surely a jest," he says in a flat voice.
Ellie shakes her head.
"I will not do this. It is servants work."
"You think I'm your servant?" Eleanor demands.
"Well, not entirely. You are practically of Asgard. Perhaps I will force your mortal companions to do such unbecoming labor," he suggests, totally serious.
Eleanor stares at him blankly.
"They are more suited for this sort of mindless task than the work they are attempting to accomplish in laboratory, I assure you," he says, scoffing.
Eleanor stares at him blankly.
"Remove this expression from your face," Loki says, shuffling. Her gaze makes him uncomfortable. "It is simple fact."
"So I am more suited for mindless tasks?" she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.
"My sweet songbird," he says, chuckling and shaking his head. "You do nothing but perform mindless tasks."
She opens her mouth to yell at him before realizing that he's right. Her job is not particularly taxing.
"And to answer your original question, you are suited for something slightly higher in caliber," he continues. "Your voice and birth distinguishes you from your fellows."
"Okay, okay," she says, interrupting him. Although Ellie has never been one to pay much attention to his ludicrous insults, he seems to really believe all this superiority crap and she is supposed to be helping him change, so she freaks a little. "Let me get this straight. In Loki's Misguided Scale of the Inherent Superiority of Various Beings, the Aesir are on the top." Eleanor holds her hand up, indicating the position of said imaginary scale.
Loki's eyes narrow in suspicion as he nods.
"Half breeds are just below that." She moves her hand lower.
"Never again refer to yourself as such," he snaps, sounding deadly serious and totally missing the point, as per the usual.
Ellie takes a deep breath, trying to keep her extreme frustration at bay.
"Just below the Aesir are half mortals, correct?" she rephrases.
"Better," he says, nodding. "And yes, although I must say you are the only known half mortal."
"And below that," she continues, moving her hand even lower, "are the humans, mere mortals, right?"
"Indeed."
"So tell me, my dear, dark god." She matches his speech patterns and he cracks a smile. "Where do the Frost Giants fall on your little scale?"
His eyes go wide in shock as she points out a glaring flaw in his fucked up ideology, but then his expression hardens into a scowl so intense it has goose bumps raising on Ellie's skin. She shivers despite the heat and takes a step away from him, forgetting for a moment that he is physically incapable of hurting her.
"Thank you, Eleanor," he says, tone nothing but polite. "You make an excellent point. Excuse me." Loki turns on his heel and slams out of the house.
Ellie blinks in surprise before rushing through the door, moving around to the back of the house. She watches him climb the bluff behind her cabin with impressive speed and grace given the steep, rocky terrain. He reaches the rocky outcropping at the top of the ridge and she can barely make out his figure settled on a rock.
He'll probably sit there for a long time.
The guilt she feels for upsetting him is somewhat unreasonable, but somewhere along the line his pain became hers. Now that his magic and mental clarity have returned, she has to push him. If she allows them to exist in this little bubble, Odin will see that this isn't enough of a punishment and take him away.
Still, knowing that doesn't make hurting him suck any less.
When the sun goes down, Eleanor scrambles up the bluff to Loki's rock. The dress and Birkenstock combination proves ill-suited for the steep climb, but eventually she reaches him. Loki's gaze never leaves the stars as she hands him a carton of Phish Food and a spoon. Ellie sit cross-legged on the rock next to Loki, looking up as well.
They pass the carton back and forth until the ice cream is gone. She wonders if he takes this for the silent apology it is.
"I spent a lot of time looking at the stars when you were locked away," she murmurs after several minutes of silence.
"Did you?"
"They reminded me of you. You are the guy that came from outer space, after all."
"You thought of me?"
"Oh, yeah."
Loki makes a sound like he doesn't really believe her and Eleanor forces herself to say what she really came up here to talk about.
"Do you understand what I was even trying to say earlier?" she asks.
"Yes," he replies. "You argue that my belief in my superiority over the Midgardians is false. I am Jotun and therefore inferior to other races, including these fools who raised you as their own. The Midgardians may be unintelligent, but they are not monsters. Not like me."
Eleanor groans and slaps her forehead with her open palm. "You stupid, ridiculous god," she mutters, shaking her head at him. Loki frowns at her in confusion.
The fact that he doesn't respond to her insult is telling and Ellie gets up to sit facing him on his rock. He lets her take his hand, but he refuses to look away from the sky.
"You are the smartest being I've ever known," she says. "It amazes me that there are just some things you so do not get."
"I am not stupid," he mutters petulantly. "You, my dear, happen to fall outside my area of expertise. Even without the presence of the Tesseract clouding my mind, I find you extremely baffling."
Ellie smiles at this. "Your little scale of who's better than who is stupid and just not true," she says.
"I am Jotun and therefore the lowest of the low. How can you let such a monstrous being touch you?" The self-hatred evident in his voice breaks her heart.
"Stop that," she snaps, keeping up with this rapid shift in his demeanor is difficult. "The scale is dumb. You are no better or worse than me or Darcy or Thor because of what you are and what we are."
He opens his mouth to argue but she talks over him.
"You are not inherently better or worse than Odin or your mother or Captain freaking America." He growls but Ellie isn't sure at what and she keeps going. "Loki, what you are is irrelevant. There is nothing inherently monstrous about being a Frost Giant and nothing inherently divine about the Asgardians. Does this make any sense at all?"
Loki looks genuinely confused and Eleanor reminds herself that Loki spent millennia as a pampered, entitled prince, his head filled with a lot of weird interplanetary racism. Despite this, he is listening.
As amazing and unlikely as it seems, Loki is absorbing her words.
"You believe you and Odin are equals?" he asks. "That he is not your better?"
"Well, he is certainly better at the magic and the ruling, but I'm not nearly as big of a douche bag. No, Loki. He's not my better."
"Insanity."
Eleanor laughs, but the sound is slightly sad. "Welcome to America. We got rid of that divine rule thing a couple centuries ago," she tells him.
Loki gets quiet again and looks up at the sky. Ellie lays her head on his shoulder and enjoys the little moment of peace.
"What would you have me do?" he whispers.
"Just stop being such a dick to everyone," she requests.
"Everyone?" Loki obviously is skeptical of his own ability to do such a thing. The chances of him suddenly making nice with Steve or Thor seem pretty much nonexistent.
"Start with Jane and Darcy, maybe?" she suggests. "Focus on what they are actually doing, not just how you think they should treat you. I think you could really be interested in their work if you get over yourself," she says.
"Get over myself?"
"Yeah. Also it would be nice if you filled me in on whatever you are doing outside the lab every day."
"I've told you, Eleanor. Exercise."
"Yeah, whatever, Loki."
Loki sighs and stands, signaling the end of the conversation. He offers her a hand up, but Eleanor shakes her head.
"No way. I don't want you to disappear me down the hill. It makes my insides feel all wiggly," she says.
Loki scowls. "If you attempt this decent on foot you are sure to break your spine," he comments, picking at his left hand. It is always the left hand.
"Not if I've got you to hold onto."
This time when Loki offers his hand, she takes it.
The next day at work, Loki makes the coffee himself, asks Darcy questions about the machine she is constructing, and assists Jane with a problem.
He's not particularly nice, but the change is apparent and startling.
The women gape at the dark god and shoot questioning looks at Ellie who does nothing but grin and hum to herself as she continues her work as a glorified secretary.
She pushes down the suspicion and insecurity, hoping that this is real. That maybe he's trying.
But maybe he's not. Maybe it is just the opposite.
Y'all are so damn lovely. Seriously, I am glad there are people out there who enjoy reading this baby nearly as much as I am enjoying writing it. And you steady, steady reviewers out there! Words can not describe how much I appreciate you taking the time to leave some support or criticism or ranting or whatever.
This was betaed by the awesome Marie Allen but I messed around with it a bit after she got it back to me (in record time!) so any mistakes are on me.
Next one should be up before the weekend is over.