The Book of Vishanti was one of the most powerful relics that Stephen Strange had hidden away in the Sanctum Sanctorum. It took Laurel a while to find it, since it wasn't in the library. She figured it would have been with all of the restricted books, those that Wong kept locked up because young sorcerers were not capable of handling the magic inside of them yet. There was no forbidden magic in the Sanctum Sanctorum, but there was limited magic, magic that hey did not want their students taking on until they were ready. Of course, the book wasn't in the library at all. Laurel knew where it had to be, but she had no desire to go there.
They had all agreed on leaving Stephen's rooms the way they had been when he was dissolved by Thanos. The door had been locked, and no one had entered his quarters since then, out of respect and deference to him. But now she had to pick the lock, knowing that Stephen wouldn't have minded. It was for the greater good, the good of the entire universe if the book was as helpful as it seemed.
Stepping into the room, she kicked up a lot of dust. Laurel waved her hand, the dust all vanishing in seconds. She hadn't been in there since well before Stephen had become a victim of Thanos, well before they had had their falling-out. "If I was you," she mumbled, trying to channel Stephen, "where would I have hidden a relic like that?"
She went through the closet, through drawers full of expensive watches, and through piles of papers she found on a desk. It was a locked drawer that attracted her to a filing cabinet, one that had been stuck in a corner. With a wave of her hand, she opened the drawer, pulling out a book that looked older than most of those in the library collections. Cracking it open, she found spells written in several languages, notes written in scrawling hand sin the margins. The notes themselves looked incredibly old, like the book had passed through several generations of Sorcerer Supremes.
Sitting down on the bed, Laurel started reading. "'A Spell to Speak to the Dead', 'A Spell to Contact the Lost', 'A Spell to Move Dimensions'... this has got to be it." Sure enough, she found that, like the legend about the Book of Vishanti said, it kept expanding. No matter how many pages she turned, she would find more written on magic and spellwork in different languages, some rather new and some that had long since gone extinct.
That night, Laurel decided to try out a combination of the spells in the book. She had spent all afternoon writing and putting spells together, cobbling them into a coherent but complex spell that would require all of her focus. She was so close that she could almost feel it. Making sure to lock her door, she sat down on her own bed and began reciting the incantation that she had written herself.
It was fifteen minutes' worth of reading and spellwork, all of the motions that accompanied the spells being perfectly timed. Slowly, a sort of portal began to materialize. Unlike the regular sparks around the edges of the portals that the Masters of the Mystic Arts created, this one was a completely black circle. It was more of a void than a portal. Laurel took a deep breath, stepping into it without looking back.
She had stepped into a kind of bubble between worlds, a bubble outside of her dimension but not quite inside of Valhalla. "Well, this needs some work," she mumbled to herself, about to step out of the portal and back into the Sanctum when she was interrupted by two voices. She took another step forward, the fuzzy outlines of Odin and Frigga becoming visible.
They were sitting in a small room, having what looked like it could be late-night cups of coffee. Frigga seemed somewhat distressed, Laurel trying as hard as she could to hear what she was saying. "We should let him talk to her like we can. I know it is a lot, a whole lot of strain on our worlds, but you should see him, Odin."
"Darling, he would never stop talking to her if we let him," Odin objected. "He would break the boundaries between our two worlds if we let him try."
Frigga was insistent. "He is absolutely miserable here. He keeps isolating himself in that library. He hardly comes to see the gardens, or comes out to feast with us, let alone going out into the rest of Valhalla. Even if we could just let him see her, let him know she is still doing well…"
Odin shook his head. "I wish I could allow it, but it would only hurt him more, seeing what he once had, but not being able to touch it. Seeing her still in mourning, trying to find a way to contact him… it would not be right."
"You should have seen him," Frigga sighed, getting up and starting to pace. "He was out on the terrace… he'd created an image of her out of light. They were dancing, darling. To some old Midgardian song. He would spin her around and smile to himself, and send showers of sparkles everywhere as they moved. It was the only time I've seen him happy here. When the song ended, she disappeared, and he looked just as miserable as before. He needs to be able to see her, to know that she's alright."
Odin was adamantly against the idea, turning to look at his wife as she walked to the window. "It would crush him. You have seen her, you have seen what she keeps trying to do. Every time I look in on her, she is busy trying to find a way to contact him. If he sees that she keeps getting so close, he will try to bring the two dimensions together, and would inadvertently cause a catastrophe. He is still young and naive, and you know he would not go about it properly. It is a very careful balance of spellwork, one he cannot handle."
For her part, Frigga had taught him a lot of the magic he would need to cross between worlds. But deep down, she knew that Loki would try to do the work as quickly as he could. He would cut corners for this Midgardian girl, and if he messed up, he would end up mixing Valhalla and Midgard together, two worlds that, if they collided, could bring about something similar to Ragnarok, a complete destruction of one or both of them. "He has so long to wait," she frowned. "But he will have to. I am going to go check up on him, and then I do believe I should get some rest."
As Frigga moved towards the door, Laurel followed, finding that she could move around alright in Valhalla, seeing everything, even if she could not be seen or heard. She followed her down the hall, down a flight of stairs, and through several magnificent archways until they reached a heavy wooden door. Frigga knocked twice before walking in, finding Loki reading a book out on the terrace by the light of the moon. He looked up, seeing that it was his mother. A tiny bit of the hope in his eyes died out. Every time someone walked in, he hoped beyond hope, for a brief second, that it would be Laurel. It never would be, but he had hoped. "Good evening, Mother."
"How are you, dear?" she asked, leaning on the doorframe. "You should get some rest. Staying up this late will do you no good."
Loki closed his book with a sigh, confessing that, "I haven't been able to sleep properly. You know that. I miss her. Terribly. It hurts to even think about her, but it's a horrible heartache if I don't. I know I have to wait, but… I wish I could see her one more time, just to say goodbye. She'll be here soon enough. I can wait fifty, sixty years. But it's her entire life."
Frigga frowned, reminding him that, "Dear, she is a goddess. It will be a lot longer than that. It will take her longer to get here."
"Oh." Loki's shoulders visibly sunk, his mother coming to put a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, darling. I wish you could talk to her too. But she understands that you sacrificed yourself for her. She understands that you wish you could have had more time with her, and she must know how much you love her, even now. I can feel it, even here. I am the Goddess of Marriage, after all," she said, hoping that it would offer some sort of comfort.
"You're right. I should be getting some sleep." That was Frigga's cue to leave, so she said goodnight, kissing her son on the top of her head before taking her leave. Loki reamined out on the terrace, staring up at the moon. Laurel moved forward, coming to stand next to him. "I love you," he mouthed, still staring up at the stars. "I miss you, and I wish I could say goodbye. Goodnight, Laurel." It sounded like he said the same goodnight, the same goodbye, every night before he went to bed.
Laurel reached out, putting her hand over his, even though she knew he couldn't tell that she was there. For a fleeting second, he looked over to her, sure that he had felt something. "I miss you too. I love you so much," she whispered, Loki looking away. It must have been the wind. She couldn't really talk to him, no matter how much she wanted to. She couldn't reach out and hold him, no matter how sad he looked, no matter how much it broke her heart not to be able to let him know that she was there. "I'll find a way to get here. I'll find a way, I promise."
She had to leave him as he went inside, since the spell could only hold for so long. Appearing back in her own room, she realized that she had only been gone for a few minutes, even though it had been a lot longer in Valhalla. She would need Odin or Frigga's blessing to remain there for longer. And these spells would need some work, but they could get her to Valhalla. There was hope for sure. If only she could figure out how to completely cross into the halls of the dead and come back out alive.
A.N.: Sorry if my updates aren't as regular as they usually are this week... I'm going on vacation, and I won't have a lot of time to write. But I've got some great things in store, so stick around!