- Chapter 48 -

Noise? Frey arched an eyebrow and thought, That wasn't much noise, my dear. He smirked as he thought about the times he would ambush Loki in some corridor, or sometimes in his guest chambers when the boy would come to visit. He would grin a wicked and wild grin. It was one only Loki ever saw. "Let's make some noise," he would say with a little wink, and they would be off to some new adventure. Those were sweet times, carefree and honest.

Though Frigga was certain she was the only one to hear the breathy, "Oh!" that Odin released at the end of the song Loki played, she was certain it meant just as much as if everyone heard it. To many others, Odin's stoic visage was the face of their Lord and King. To her, it was the mask her husband wore. Over the centuries, she'd learned to look past it. She could see the surprise, the love, the cautious hope beneath the mask. As she looked back to the screen Frigga thought, Perhaps there's hope that we can be a family again. Perhaps there's hope that he will forgive.

Loki was playing for him, Odin could tell. He listened to the words; listened and wondered and hoped. How is it you've seen me for what I am, yet I've never seen you? Am I not your father? Am I not supposed to know you? Am I not supposed to have certainty, instead of endless, wretched uncertainty? Odin's thoughts stopped dead when he heard it. It was soft and barely there, but he heard it none the less. "I miss you, father," Loki said. Odin didn't realize he'd spoken until he heard it himself. The surprise of Loki's words momentarily overwhelmed his normal control. Everything that's happened to you because of me, do you still call me father? This was only a few days ago! A wild hope sprang up in him, and he tamped it down quickly. Hope could deceive, it was better to be cautious. A very small smile found its way to his lips. Loki played for him again. It was years since his son did that.

He recalled Loki learning to play the bentsong. His son was so talented, and the music he created was so beautiful. Odin heard the whispers of those in court, that Loki used magic to make his music better than others. He scoffed at their ignorance. Odin could tell that it was talent and not magic that made Loki's music beautiful. He committed each song to memory and pitied the foolish courtiers who didn't know what rare beauty they were being given. He pitied those foolish enough not to hold onto that beauty and keep it for themselves.

When Loki stopped playing Odin was saddened. He always wondered why Loki stopped. In those days the boy's interests seemed to shift so suddenly. One year it was music, the next statecraft, the next reforms to the judicial system. Whatever Loki set his hands to, he exceeded at almost instantly, but swiftly grew bored and moved on to something else. Odin thought he'd have time to sit the boy down and speak with him about what he wanted to do. He was so very proud of his youngest son's ability to exceed in anything. Odin meant to sit him down, to tell him how proud he was and to see what Loki thought of his own future. He'd meant to. Odin regretted that he'd never done it. He regretted that he'd never done many things that he'd meant to do with Loki. How can I set this right now?

When Loki turned towards the device recording him, Odin's hand tightened around his wife's hand. He felt her hand tighten as well. Loki's eyes were bleached white and unfocused. He hadn't wanted to believe when he learned that Loki was blind. It didn't seem like something that he could miss. There was much that it didn't seem like he could miss. Loki's own darkened vision dragged him back to his numerous failures. Even seeing it Odin could scarcely believe. How did I miss this? How was it possible that I didn't see that my son went blind? Odin knew that it happened right in front of him. At that moment, with one eye still perfectly functional, he felt wretchedly blind. You are the one who was blind, yet I was the one who didn't see. How?!

Loki's colorless eyes were a terrible condemnation of his own actions to Thor. Loki's eyes were one of his most recognizable features. They were the mischievous green that tied everything together where his Little Brother was concerned. To see those beautiful eyes set in a washed-out white made it hard to breath. You truly were blind. You took the field of battle alone, wounded, and blind. Why would you do this? Thor couldn't make sense of it. His brother was no fool, he knew that well. To have done what he did, all for people he didn't believe returned his love, for people who laughed at him, was inconceivable. Thor couldn't understand why. He looked at the door and glared powerfully. He wanted out. More than that he wanted his Little Brother back.

There was something very uncomfortable about seeing Lilith with bleached out eyes. While Clint knew that it was Loki, it was still Lilith's face. There was an odd unhappiness as seeing his friend with blind eyes. It was easier to set that unhappiness aside by instead focusing on the mission ahead of him. There were things to be learned and an asset to be recruited. That was more important than his own emotions, but not as easy as he wanted it to be.

Prince Loki truly was blind. Hogun's eyes widened slightly. His Prince was blind and had been blind right in front of him. He'd gone on adventures and camping trips while his Prince was blind, yet he was the one who'd been blinded to this truth. There was a small kernel of shame building in him that his Prince was blind, and he'd done nothing to assist Prince Loki.

As he looked at Loki, Steve's eyes widened some. Beyond the sudden guilt of knowing that he struck a blind man, he didn't know how a blind man could keep pace with him. It was odd and uncomfortable, but he had the sudden urge to apologize to Lilith for hitting her when she was blind. Or him. Hitting him, or her now, Steve thought. It was still a little confusing.

.-.-.-.

"Feeling nostalgic, Madam?" Jarvis asked merrily.

Loki chuckled and asked, "Am I so obvious?"

"Perhaps just a little, Madam," the digital intellect teased her in return.

Loki laughed at that. She loved it when he was in a mood to play a little. "Yes well, don't tell Tony. I don't want another rant. You know how he is."

"Sir is the very soul of calm tolerance, Madam," there was no mistaking the amusement in his voice.

"Hm, indeed. I don't think I want to hear his opinion of my father again. At least not today," she said. A sudden thought struck her, and she told him, "It's a shame you'll never be able to meet my father. He's a great lion of a man. So fierce and proud is he. I think you two would be able to talk. He might even enjoy it." Loki didn't mind the pride in her voice. It was in the quiet moments that she could admit she still loved her father, despite his flaws. It was his flaws that made him real to Loki. They made him understandable as a person. Instead of the heroic but distant figurehead of King of Asgard and Lord of an Elder Realm, she preferred the real man with flaws, quirks, and qualities. That was the man Loki called father; the man she missed.

A little sigh slipped out of her lips, "I suppose I should go get the rose tank out of the way." Loki turned and towards the stairs. She decided to go directly through the living room instead of walking the familiar route. Going directly would let her get to Tony faster. Even with the calming mantra of, "You don't need to be afraid. This won't hurt. This is good for you. It won't hurt. You'll go safely to sleep," she still couldn't get into the tank and to sleep without him. He was the only one who could manage it.

.-.-.-.

Ten days ago, Frey watched the recording carefully, this is how it happened. He could see the skaerevefer-glass statue of Yggdrasil that he gave them last year for the anniversary of their marriage. It was sitting on a low table in front of their L-shaped settee, instead of someplace safer as he'd been assured it would be. He couldn't see enough of the floor around the mortals seated at the front of the table. Frey stood and tried to look around them. Moving around the Truthkeeper, he walked up next to his beloved sister and brother-by-law. A frown crossed his face as he looked at the screen. The table had been pushed into the walkway. "Toys," he murmured. The toddler's toys on the floor where the table should be. The table was moved to make room for them.

"Frey?" Frigga asked, her voice was still a little rough from crying. Her seidr unraveled to spin into a Regenerative Weave for herself. It released into her before her seidr raveled back. She was surprised when he walked up next to them.

Frey watched Loki turn from the bentsong she'd been sitting at. "It was an accident," he said quietly. His breath quickened. He saw Loki walking right towards the table. Any moment now ...

"What was an accident, brother?" Frigga tried asking again. His attention was fixed on Loki. She watched as his breath caught and his eyes widened. He reached forward with one hand that tightened to a fist as he grimaced. Her gaze snapped back to the recording quickly when the construct said loudly, "Madam, be careful!" A crashing noise followed swiftly after.

.-.-.-.

It was too late to catch her balance as Loki went stumbling over something that shouldn't have been there. As she hit the floor the sound of shattering glass was accompanied by a sharp shredding pain cutting through her left elbow. She recoiled quickly but it was too late to stop the warm gush of thick liquid. Loki got up to her knees but didn't go farther before a ringing dizziness hit her. Pain shrieked up her nerves. It's grinding and cutting, not this! She sucked in as much air as she could and screamed, "Tony!" The nerves in her lower arm were somewhere beyond numb. The nerves in her upper arm more than made up for them. They screamed pain at her trying to drown out her thoughts. The growing wetness around her knees was concerning. Loki felt for the vein in her upper arm and pushed her fingers against it to stop the flow. The grinding sensation had already reached her shoulder though. It was too late to stop it.

Garnet red and fiery orange teleportation flames swirled jointly together as Anthony and Rhodey came instantly from the workshop. They dropped their tools and abandoned the armor they were working on when Jarvis informed them that Loki needed help. "Oh crap," Anthony heard Rhodey mutter before he felt a soul song of stillness twine with a soul song of blessings and extend towards his injured wife. The overturned coffee table had thoroughly smashed the skaerevefer-glass statue of Yggdrasil. Loki knelt beside the table at the center of a minefield of children's toys and glass shards sharp enough to cut bone. A slowing puddle of blood was creeping towards them.

The whoosh of teleportation fire near her almost startled Loki. "Stay back!" she shouted. "The skaerevefer is shattered." The dizziness was steadily mounting as the grinding sensation spread through her chest. It took her breath away to replace it with a metallic taste.

The two brothers shared a look. Rhodey issued the order quickly, "Get the glass," before turning and running into the kitchen to retrieve the metal trashcan, keeping the soul songs extended towards her. While he was doing that Anthony held out his left hand. His seidr flickered out of his core and crawled down his arm. It flowed out into the space in front of him to grasp each shard it touched. When it took too long for him to grasp all the shards Rhodey also extended his hand then let his seidr unfold from his core to run down his arm. It pushed forward from his fingertips to grasp the shards that Anthony didn't have. He instantly understood why his younger brother was having difficulty. Each shard was soaking up seidr from him making it difficult to get a hold on and move. A worrying amount of time passed before the two of them had the shards, no matter how small, placed safely into the metal can.

By the time the area was safe again Loki was breathing heavily, listing to one side. Her skin was translucent as the blood flowed over it, thick and hot. Rhodey rushed forward quickly, he knelt behind her and pulled her back up against this chest. Once arm wrapped around her middle to keep her stable while he pushed her hand out of the way with his other hand. The older man instantly mounted a Healing Spell which he released into her arm. Through his spell he shut down the sliced blood vessels to stop the flow of blood. Her head tipped back onto his shoulder as her eyes closed. "It's ok, Loki. I got you," Rhodey said calmly. Her labored breathing was worrisome, so he looked through his spell to see what needed his attention first.

Panic attempted to force its way into Anthony's thoughts at the sight of his wife's blood on the floor. Smooth determination overtook it instead. He ran to her, dropping to his knees in front of Loki. She was whispering something about the glass. "I know, babe, I know," he said. With his left hand on her upper arm and his right on her wrist Anthony let his seidr flicker out of his core to crawl down his arm again. It forged into a minor Healing Spell that he covered her arm with. It pushed against his older brother's spell.

Without missing a beat Rhodey said in a cool and certain voice, "Anthony, Loki is injured. If you get in my Healing Spell's way I will toss you into the hall." The familiar drawing sensation was what drew his attention first. The glass shards in the wound were still drawing from him. They were more difficult to grasp and move in his sister-in-law's arm than they were sitting on the floor. Though he managed to force them out of the open wound the drawing sensation didn't stop. There was no time to contain the dangerous shards, so he surrounded them with his seidr and ignited the seidr to burn them to ash where they lay.

"No, no, no! This is simple, I can do this!" Anthony protested, not wanting to relinquish control of Loki's healing yet. The first thing he noticed when he looked through his spell was an odd drawing sensation coming from the wound. It was still actively sucking up the seidr he was pouring into it. There were no more shards in her arm to cause it. Maybe just a residual effect, he thought as he moved on. Through his spell Anthony could see the extent of the damage. Rhodey had stopped the bleeding by temporarily closing down blood vessels in the wound site. Prompting cellular growth then directing it allowed him to knit the flesh back together; blood vessels, tendons, muscles, skin, and all. Once the first gash was closed he moved on to the second. Fear colored his thoughts when all his work came undone for no discernable reason. It melted back into seidr and absorbed into Loki's flesh rapidly.

"Anthony. Last chance," he growled out the warning when he saw the gash open back up. Rhodey didn't care to see his younger brother waste time when Loki had already lost too much blood. More of his seidr unfolded to marshal in his hand. When his younger brother went back to close the gash again he placed his hand above Anthony's then reached through the link in their seidr. Through that link he mounted an Ascending Circle of Strength in his younger brother's seidr. Aligned over that circle he mounted a Descending Circle of Strength in his own seidr. The moment the circles were complete and aligned he began pouring his seidr through them to give Anthony the control and strength he needed. Ignored fear spread through his brother's seidr. It made an appropriate accompaniment to the quieted but anxious worry whispering out of his own.

The previously closed gash sealed just as easily a second time. As soon as Anthony moved his attention, it opened again. A low moan from Loki distracted him momentarily. She coughed once, then again. There were flecks of crimson on her lips with the second cough. Is that blood? "Loki?" he said. Her eyes were closed as her head dropped forward. A little trickle of blood dribbled over her lip. "Loki!"