Chapter 8
She awakened to the feel of satin beneath her and the scent of blueberries, commonly associated with the blue roses she cultivated.
Her joints were stiff from disuse, her womb barren and yet it didn't register as strongly as it should have. What did register was the fact that her lungs were drawing breath, her heart beating strong in her chest.
She was alive.
She wasn't a shattered crystal corpse lying on the floor of the opera house or dust in the winds, she was alive and breathing, still wearing the black dress she'd been wearing the night she drew her final breath.
Sitting up swiftly, her keen blue eyes took in the beautiful tomb she was in, the stone walls with her roses blooming up them, the smooth marble floors. It was dimly lit and well maintained, fresh candles burning nearby, telling her someone had been there recently.
The bed she sat on was just as beautiful, black satin sheets and a crushed red velvet blanket, the blue roses woven around the bottom of the raised dais it lay upon.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Only one person loved her enough to do this for her, and she could only hope he'd remained off of the radar of Saya's humans. If not, her dearest one was in grave danger.
A voice startled her from her thoughts.
"Good Morning, Queen Diva," It began and she smiled.
Jarvis, her youngest grandson.
"It is currently 2:16am. We are currently in Manhattan, New York, in Stark Tower. Today's weather-"
"Jarvis," She cut in, voice hoarse from disuse.
"Milady?"
"Where is my Rosario?"
Her son's invention hesitated, then responded in a softer voice. "Sir is currently in his private workshop, resting. He fell asleep while working. However, please allow me to inform you that your presence may shock him."
She frowned slightly. She had only been dead for a moments…right?
"Why?"
"You have been dead for over twenty years."
Her eyes widened, a gasp leaving her lips unbidden.
Twenty years.
Twenty years.
Oh, her poor Rose.
She knew better than anyone in the world just how highly her son regarded her. Hell, just looking at the lavish room he'd kept her crystalized form in was telling enough.
Her death, especially at hands of Saya, who he absolutely despised despite everything she'd tried to teach him otherwise, would've destroyed him.
Rushing to her feet, she fought off a spell of dizziness.
"Take me to him."
"Yes ma'am."
The war, as far as she knew, was over and her son was hurting. Her daughters were gone but she knew, she knew that she still had a chance.
It was time to be a mother again.
Everything else, was secondary.
*/*
Finding his labs were easy enough with Jarvis' guidance, and although she had expected to find him sleeping, the sight of him took her breath away.
Her Rosario was wearing the glamour that made him seem like Stark's child, a mess of dark hair falling over his slack face as he dreamed. He was resting with his head on his work table, what looked like a red and gold piece of armor resting beside him and she smiled warmly.
What was even better was the picture sitting on the corner of his desk. It was a small photo of her Rosario with two young women that could only be her daughters. They were in their late teens, one sharing Saya's likeness while the other was more similar to her own, their eyes dancing as they laughed at one thing or another.
Taking a seat beside her eldest, she pulled him into her arms, cooing softly as he stirred and grumbled in discontent at being moved.
"Shh, my love. All is well, just rest." She murmured, and he sighed, one hand coming up to clutch her tighter. Her own grip tightened in response, and she pressed a chaste kiss on his temple to settle him as she had all those years ago.
Then, she began to sing.
All the while, her rose slept on.
*/*
Safe.
For so long, far longer than he'd ever truly admit, he'd yearned for the feeling, for the warmth it brought him. His chevaliers, though they tried, had never instilled the sense of security in him he'd sought, not like his mother and her strong but thin arms, the scent of blueberries clinging stubbornly to her no matter what she was doing.
Only one had managed, and Saya had taken him from him.
Had turned him against him.
He'd hated her for that.
Still did actually.
However, after Ville, and later his mother, had been taken from him, he'd thought he'd lost that sense of comfort forever. That it had vanished in a broken memory like so many other things in his life.
So to wake, feeling safe and warm, a strong heartbeat under his ear and the scent of blueberries in his nose was…puzzling.
A gentle hand stroked his hair, soothing his frayed nerves, and then as his conscious slowly grew he heard it.
No matter how old he grew, how long had gone since he'd heard it, he knew that song anywhere.
Knew that voice.
His eyes flew open and yes.
Yes!
Blue eyes, the color of the roses their owner favored, met his full of warmth and tears and love.
Love.
His queen.
"Mother," he breathed, stunned, heart racing in his chest. The reactor ached in response but he couldn't bring himself to care.
His entire focus was in the woman holding him, staring at him as if he were the most beautiful thing she'd ever laid eyes upon.
A look he knew mirrored that on his own face.
"My dearest one. I've missed you."
He whimpered, tears burning his eyes because- because she was here. She was here and she was real and he was no longer alone.
He was safe.
All the pain and strife he'd endured over the years, all the heartache he'd pushed away broke past the dams he'd built to contain them and he buried his face in her throat.
Neither spoke as the first sob broke free.
Nor the second or the third.
Until he was full-blown crying.
She held him the entire time, strong and unbending as she listened to him break.
He loved her all the more for it.
"Sh, darling. Everything's alright."
He curled closer to her.
Yes, everything was perfectly fine.
*/*
Something had changed.
Dark emerald eyes narrowed as Tony entered the room, the inventor's shoulders free of the tension that normally plagued them, lips curled into a warm carefree smile.
His eyes danced with mischief and happiness, true happiness, and Loki couldn't help but find himself slightly jealous of what could put such a bright smile on the man's face.
Could make the normally exhausted man walk with a spring in his step and a warmth in his heart that had been absent the entire time he'd known him.
"Good morning," the man greeted warmly. Pouring himself a cup of coffee while everyone else stared at him blankly.
"What the hell?" Barton questioned, blinking. "Are you on drugs? Should we be alarmed? I feel like we should be alarmed."
Stark chuckled. "No, no. Nothing like that. I just- I had a very nice surprise waiting for me this morning. It was something I've needed for a long time."
The widow frowned while Miyagusuku blinked. "You're this happy because of a blowjob? Aren't you supposed to be a playboy?"
The inventor's warm grin cooled slightly at the man's words, and there was a flash of malicious satisfaction in his words. "No, but I do have a guest coming to breakfast with us this morning and if anything happens to her, your pet can explain to your organization why one of its senior members is suddenly…unavailable."
The agent scowled. "I don't just hurt ran-
"My, my. I certainly didn't expect you to be in such…poor company, dearest one." Came a smooth voice, and Miyagusuku froze.
Hagi's ever stoic features shifted into a wide-eyed expression, hatred and pain flashing in his blue eyes before they quickly went blank and Loki's interest skyrocketed.
The source of tension was a petite woman, who looked to barely have reached human maturity, her vivacious frame clad in a loose blue floor-length gown. Her hair fell in long black waves down her back, ice blue eyes full of dark amusement.
She seemed harmless.
So why were the two agents staring at her like she were the devil himself?
When Miyagusuku spoke, his voice was full of hatred, anger, and disbelief.
"Diva."
She smirked. "Hello, did you miss me?"
TBC…
