The moment he laid his hands on the stones again, Loki became aware of the painful tension his body had carried for months, the yearning it had been holding. Like an old friend, his magic rushed to greet the stones, roiling and pulling. His eyes gleamed wickedly, a brilliant grin spreading across his face. Taking the stones from their vault, he slipped them into what they now felt was their rightful home, his right pocket, and crept back along the corridor, watching the strangely compliant guards let him pass.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, it occurred to him that Thor could return any second. His brother, though, was more of a fool than anyone thought if he placed his unwavering trust in one whose talent for trouble was without limit. Chuckling at the thought, but unsure of what he was actually going to do with his new toys, Loki emerged from the subterranean vault with as much swagger as possible, flashing a passing Lady a dashing, if slightly menacing, smile.
The stones blazed, their energy tugging in the direction of the Bifrost bridge. With intense frustration, he growled aloud and spun on his heel, heading back into the palace. He did not know where Thor had gone, but, given the slight hint of benign fascination on Heimdall's face when they had passed hours before, he suspected it might be Earth.
And he soon found out. Thor's arrival, Jane in arms, carried by his hammer rather crudely through the doors of the palace, left him little time to keep out of the way. Besides, the human girl piqued his curiosity, something powerful about her caught the stones' attention. He followed, keeping a fair distance as they approached a set of disused chambers, until Thor turned sharply back on himself and tugged his brother into the room.
Odin quickly followed.
It was as if humans awoke some primordial instinct of caution in Odin. He eyed Jane in confusion, any wisdom that usually resided on his face fleeing as he lifted her wrist and felt the Aether squirming. His face tightened. Attendants and healers hurried around the uncomfortably small room, clearly not made for nine people to work.
"It is the Aether," Odin said slowly, watching Jane curiously. His eyes never quite managed to find Thor's. "My father sealed it away long ago. Its return to the Nine Realms heralds great misfortune."
"Does she count as great misfortune?" Loki quipped, barbing Jane with a searing look.
"No, foolish boy," Odin snapped in return, "the Dark Elves seek its power. They will return, make no mistake." Absorbed in the impending fate of his kingdom, Odin was oblivious to Loki's stiffening limbs. Thor grabbed his arm and questioned him with his darting eyes. His answer came in the form of a gulp and a tightened jaw. Thor nodded his understanding.
Blinking out tears – false or real, he could not quite tell – Thor put a shake in his voice and petitioned his father to find anything that might be done for Jane. Consenting, Odin strode away, muttering to himself.
As soon as his father had left, Thor said, "what is it?"
"Its power comes from the stones. There's one here," Loki replied, eyes still wide. That same uncertainty had returned, sitting uncomfortably in his throat.
"In her?" Thor exclaimed, eyes widening massively.
"No," Loki rolled his eyes, "in the Aether. Protected by it." Thor shrugged, failing to see how what he said had been any different, and ran a hand down Jane's arm with a sad smile. It wasn't quite sympathy that Loki felt in his soul, no, it was something closer to a dampening on his wicked glee at seeing the stones take over someone else's life for a change. He would go to his grave before it was sympathy.
Minutes passed with no conversation. Normally impervious to the intricate awkwardness of humans, Loki decided it might be best to wait outside, as Thor seemed to have sunk into a terribly morose reverie. His movement seemed to wake his brother, though, and they left together, falling into silent step.
Outside, in the glow of the midday sun, it was almost peaceful. Asgardians milled around, their chatter carrying in the warm breeze, jewel-bright clothes reflecting obscene amounts of light. They were totally unaware.
"So, what now?" Loki broke the heavy silence between them. With mournful eyes, Thor shrugged with such dejection as Loki had never seen before. It disturbed him. Although not as much as the sight that met him as he turned.
Heimdall, with pained breaths, came hurtling from the direction of the Bifrost bridge, resigned terror on his face.
"What's going on?" Thor demanded, then softening his fierce face.
"The Dark Elves, the Aether has awoken them. They are coming."
Thor nodded grimly. "Return to the Bifrost, Heimdall." With a parting grimace, they turned away from each other and Thor met his brother's eye.
"We've got to get the stones away from here," Thor said, grabbing Loki by the arm and dragging him towards the back doors of the palace. "We can't let the Dark Elves take them."
Despite yanking his arm back and muttering bitterly, on that last point, Loki was in total agreement. Grumbling, he headed after Thor. This particular path led them behind a series of gardens, unused at that time of day, around to a great lake with a few couples boating on the far side. The sun struck it wonderfully, a rainbow of colours cascading off every receptive surface.
As covertly as possible, Thor pressed a small urn-like container into Loki's hands and bid him, severely, to seal the stones inside and guard them.
"I'm going after Malekith," he said.
… … …
"The girl is here," a leather-clad colonel jabbed his finger in the direction of Jane's chambers. With a restrained smile, Malekith drew his weapon from its hilt and brandished it, missing the familiar weight of it for all those years asleep. The door flew open as his soldiers ran at it. He stepped inside and chuckled at the sight.
The girl was easy to spot. Smooth and pretty – so painfully human – she stared him down with defiant eyes. Power radiated off her person, her very body resisting the thing in her blood.
"Kill her," he ordered, boredom suddenly flooding him, "and bring me the Aether."
Before the soldier tasked with the murder could take a single step, a bolt of gold struck him backwards. Frigga lifted her hands towards Malekith, wearing a challenge on her face. Reaching behind her, Jane felt for a weapon to assist. With an eye roll, Malekith lunged for Frigga, who side-stepped him easily and struck him down.
Jane pulled a decorative pole from its fittings and batted an elf with it. He fell, grunting, when another grabbed her by the waist. Incredibly determined, Frigga shot a bolt through the offending soldier and pushed Jane backwards. Just in time for Malekith to force his sword into her back, chuckling wickedly as she fell to her knees. Crying out, Jane surged forward to help her, but found her way blocked by two elves, who seized her arms and yanked them behind her.
They both fell silently, life sucked from them by a lightning bolt. Stalking into the room, Thor let another bolt fly, sending Malekith tumbling backwards into a statue, toppling with it. Chest tight, throat burning, he collapsed beside his mother, knees crunching against the stone. A strangled shout wrenched itself from his throat as he touched her arm. A single tear tracked his cheek.
… … …
Loki sat. Sat and stared at the blank walls of a burial chamber in a half state of preparation. His magic held the urn out of view, but the stones' power was still unmistakable under his skin. Eyes burning, he blinked as the door cracked open, casting the room in dull light, and Thor joined him. Sliding down the wall, Thor rubbed his face with his hands and let out a quivering breath. The silence settled heavily.
"We have to- "
"If you're going to say get the stones away from here, then don't waste your breath," Loki was spitting his words, scowling darkly.
"No," Thor admitted, shaking his head, "we have to get Jane away from here."
Silent for a moment, Loki nodded his agreement and stood. His body was crumpled and aching. As much as he wanted to smash things, to burn every last brick of the palace and the celestial ground it stood on, he had learned long ago never to doubt Heimdall's Sight.
"Svartleheim," Loki whispered, an idea forming in his mind.
"What? Are you mad?"
"I think we've had this conversation before," Loki mused, "but no. It's abandoned. And big; it's perfect."
Acquiescing, Thor instructed Loki to retrieve some armour and a sword for Jane and to meet him at the door between the great hall and the servants' stairway. Glad to have something that might assuage the unpleasantness of emotional awareness, Loki agreed and strode away.
To Jane's chambers, where she now lay awake and blinking violently, Thor hurried. Although he had plastered a sickly sweet and benign smile to his lips, she remained unconvinced, pinning him with serious glances at frequent intervals. With little explanation to her or to her attendants, he unceremoniously bundled her from the room. Outside, his apologies came flowing, unloading a rather large amount of crucial information in, reasonably, too short a time for her to comprehend. However, she approved of their trip with no small amount of confidence, pulling ahead of Thor to reach their meeting place.
Loki was waiting, complete with exaggerated foot tapping, when they arrived. Jane watched them sadly as they pried open the door that would, apparently, lead them directly to the Bifrost – noticeably dishevelled, in their own way they both had grief written across their faces.
Heimdall's secluded retreat was far colder than she had remembered. Shivering, Jane grinned at Heimdall, sharing a look of empathy and fatigue at the prospect of an outing with Asgardian princes.
"He's told you where I am to send you," Heimdall asked.
"Oh, yes," Jane replied, exhaling sharply, "never a dull moment." Despite himself, Heimdall laughed and placed a hand on the hilt of the sword, twisting it quickly and sending them into a shower of light.
It dumped them gracelessly onto dusty, empty ground.
Struggling to his feet, Thor reached out a hand to Jane. Surprised he was, then, when he saw his brother helping her up with a bright smile (conveniently, when his back for turned, Loki's hand appeared to slip quite innocuously).
"Oops," he muttered as he felt her eyes burn into him.
"Right," Jane said, assertively, "How do we get this, this Aether out of me?" Thor's face crumpled into fierce concentration. Loki and Jane locked eyes and rolled them together as it dawned on them both that nobody had a real plan. It briefly occurred to Thor that he might be able to extract it himself but discarded it when the fear that he might kill Jane took over. Tricking Malekith into doing it seemed the best of a bad bunch. Thor grimaced.
"I can do it," sighing, Loki pursed his lips and indicated the stones in his pocket. "They seem to call to each other."
Thor nodded slowly. It seemed like madness, but he knew it was best not to argue the point. Instead, he consented and called lightning to his hammer, readying to face the onslaught of Elves that poured from the ships above them. War cries in forgotten languages echoed across the barren landscape, dust kicked up in dense walls. It was time.
For an advanced, if misguided, race of powerful beings, the Dark Elves had an unfortunate penchant for good, old-fashioned steel and iron. Lightning and flashes of emerald light swept through their ranks, shattering each formation in turn. They stopped coming after a while, showing up Malekith's arrogance for all to see – foot soldiers were not match for gods.
From his concealed place of observation, he considered that the human woman was not a bad aim with a sword, but frantic in battle. With a grim smile, he motioned to the Kursed, who, staring straight ahead, followed him silently. Enough with this nonsense.
Growling low, they found themselves face to face with Thor more immediately than seemed possible. He cast a withering glance at his brother and, flicking his eyes towards Jane, gave his instructions. Turning back, he lifted his hammer, relishing the crackle in the air as lightning filled it, and struck it down. Heat rippled over the ground, ripping up mud and lonely chunks of flora, spraying into Malekith's face. Evidently displeased, he charged forward, leaping at Thor with surprising agility. Deflecting the blow, Thor caught Malekith with his foot, flipping over his head and kicking out his feet. The Kursed roared viciously.
Jane and Loki tried to keep their attention away from the fighting. Letting the power stone take hold of his abilities, Loki reached out to Jane, through her, with his magic. Tendrils wrapped her arms, rooting her to the spot. Her breathing heightened to panic but she set her face into stern resolution.
He reached deeper. It seemed impossible in that moment that anything might limit his power, with the supposed exception of the burning starting in his head. Distantly, Jane screamed, but it wasn't close. It couldn't be. No power this incredible, this delicious, could cause that kind of fear.
Power racing, screaming, in his blood, Loki never doubted the integrity of his mind against the stones.
That was a mistake. As he felt the pop of the Aether leaving Jane's body – leaving him feeling somewhat anti-climactic given the magnitude of the situation – realisation dawned on him that the stones' power was not receding. The pulsing red clouds burned away, scattering scorching heat into the air around it, leaving a vacuum of horrible cold around it. There, in the centre of the emptiness, another stone waited.
Unlike its sisters, cool and reserved, fiery and hot, it throbbed with no wild energy. No desperation found Loki's senses as he took it in his hand and admired it, suddenly alone. It hissed at him, whispered in his ear in a foreign voice and language. It shouldn't have made any sense – the words were like nothing that existed that he knew of. There should have been war; bloody, raging, real war, all around. There should be a human body, Aether-less and normal. There should be elves, retreating.
There was nothing.
Closing his eyes, Loki slipped the stone into his pocket, where it hushed its whispers and buzzed in line with the others' energies. Calm and serenity vanished, collapsing as the world as he knew it returned. Svartleheim, dusty and grey, surrounded them once more, Thor clutching Jane as the elvish army dissolved.
Exhaling sharply, Jane pried herself out of Thor's arms and staggered forward, mouth agape.
"Is it… is it over?"
"Yes," Thor said, his deep voice soothing and smooth.
"I should, uh, I should get back." Glancing around, she couldn't seem to pin her eyes on one spot, totally lost as to where she might go to 'get back'. Thor agreed and bid her wait with his hammer beside her. He took Loki aside, gripping his arm.
"I'm going back to Earth with Jane for a while. What are you going to do with the stones?"
Loki shook his head. "I can't go back to Asgard."
"No, that's probably for the best." They stood in silence for a few moments, then Thor screwed up his face in confusion. "You need to tell me where they came from."
Dread, pure and unadulterated, jabbed at Loki's stomach. In the deepest recesses of his mind he knew this moment had been coming, but he had rather hoped to avoid it altogether. Sighing and running a hand over his hair, preparing for Thor's anticipated assault, he began to confess. The sceptre, the Tesseract, the Mad Titan and a barren planet that yielded untold power.
A look fell over Thor that had never shown itself before. A curious mix of anger, confusion and the acceptance of some future fate that his brother was bound to drop him in. But the rage didn't come. The fury melted away to something kinder. Now that was sympathy. Even if he didn't know, Thor suddenly understood, with painful clarity, exactly what his brother was running from.
"Come with us, brother," Thor said, hoping that the phone Jane had given him still worked adequately. "I know of somewhere we can go."
"Where?" he regretted it as soon as he'd asked the question. The concern on Thor's face withdrew, giving way to a certain mischief of his own. "Really?"
Thor grinned brilliantly.
"Do try not to provoke Banner again, won't you?"