Chapter 10: A Dream of You and Me
The velvet sheet and featherly pillow comforted his body as he slept in his new chambers. In the void he slumbered on the average beds, missing the space and solace of his former chambers while watching Eira rest in the bed beside him. Then came the flat terrain of his prison cell, the lack of a mattress creating distress in his spine. The kindness of his mother arrived and with it furniture, but his royal instincts were stubborn. Loki went on missions where he laid to rest against the uneven dirt, expecting his current situation, but he was eager to return to his home.
Disguised as Odin he retired to his adoptive father's chambers for the night. Loki remembered the first night, laying his body against the bed and awaiting for the mattress to swallow him whole. If he was not planning to visit his daughter the next morning, perhaps he would have slept for an entire day.
A month and a half was enough time to adjust to his new sleeping arrangement, yet his hands clenched the fabric whenever he awoke, as if wanting one last embrace of the feathery atmosphere if, perhaps, it were his last time to do so.
The behavior repeated a few moments after midnight, the signalling of Heimdall ringing through his ears.
The minutes it took to walk to the bridge prepared Loki to act as the All-Father; he would speak with respect and soft confidence instead of retaining his angry annoyance. Still worried about departing from the character, his inner expression softened upon seeing Eira talking to Heimdall.
"I never realized that there was a time difference between here and Midgard," her inquisitive voice became clearer with each step.
"The difference is rather unspoken of," he interrupted. "Only those who travel the realms feel the effects of time."
"Your majesty," Heimdall's strong tone echoed through the Bifröst. "I thought you would want to escort your granddaughter. The situation on Midgard is rather tense."
Odin nodded, holding out his hand for Eira to take.
"Thank you, Heimdall," he said as Eira grabbed his hand.
He guided her to the bridge, trying his best to not grasp her hand too tightly. Eira looked up at the fake form of her grandfather, seeing his glance between her and the Bifröst behind them.
Halfway through the bridge he changed into his original form, immediately kneeling down and pulling his daughter into a hug.
"Eira," he whispered. "I'm so happy you're safe. When I saw you at the Bifröst, I thought… I thought you were hurt."
"I'm fine, Daddy," Eira responded with confusion, perhaps surprised by the sudden embrace. "I don't have any scratches or injuries. Daddy, are you okay? This is a long hug."
"I am alright, Eira," he pulled away, though his knees were still bent and his hand cupped her cheek. "I was worried. We sent you to Midgard for your safety, and seeing you without knowing why you returned, I thought something may have happened. Why did Heimdall send you here? What happened?"
"Well, Steve and Natasha found out that SHIELD is corrupt. This evil group called Hydra was secretly forming for years. It looks pretty bad. Steve and Natasha should know that I'm here. I was with them when I told Heimdall to send me back if it got dangerous."
Hydra. Loki remembered Barton referring to the criminal organization when explaining the origins of Captain America. They discovered the hidden location of the Tesseract - a failure on Odin's part - and planned to utilize its neverending power to win the second World War. The foolish, mortal Red Skull, with all his diabolic passion, could not wield the potential of the Space Stone.
The organization was fickle, Loki first thought after Barton briefed him a year and a half ago. Although high in its soldiers, its leader was the only reason it maintained some fear, perhaps a major contributor in aiding the Axis powers. Despite resenting the soldier and spy for ruining his intention to conquer and rule, Loki knew they would vanquish the terrorists.
"Natasha and Steve are capable of defeating them," he reassured. "Their fighting talent is unprecedented."
Eira looked down at the rainbow bridge, her weight depending on the balls of her feet. "I don't know, Daddy."
"I understand why you are worried," he comforted. Loki looked at the purple sky and the fluctuating brightness of the stars. Probably past her bedtime. "Let's get you to bed. I'll take you to your chambers."
Without looking up, Eira sensed her body being lifted from the bridge, the wool of her father's clothing making contact with her neck. Loki settled her on his hip, her head the same height as his shoulder.
"Daddy!" she complained, exaggerating her frown (Loki hid a giggle upon seeing her expression.) "I'm seven! You don't have to carry me."
"I know, my little one, I know. But you look tired. Just humor me."
"Fine," Eira sighed.
She attempted to prove her father wrong by not laying her head on his shoulder. Succumbing to her fatigued self was more different than expected. It was certainly the time of night where her caretakers would guide her to bed, helping her choose her pajamas or aid her in falling asleep if her mood required such actions. The texture of his shirt appeared smooth, pillow-like; the perfect place to rest her head.
Father and daughter entered the dimly-lit palace. The guards were placed scarcely in the halls, though their pattern effectively protected the residents of the castle while locating possible threats. With his above-Asgardian speed, Loki managed to carry his daughter to her chambers undetected.
Loki settled Eira on her bed, rubbing the top of her head before walking to her drawers.
"Daddy, I'm not a baby," Eira complained with pouting. "I can get my own clothes. You don't have to do everything for me."
"It's the paternal instincts in me, and they will never go away. Even as you grow older."
Loki grabbed an underdress from her drawers. He turned to face Eira, though her head was tilted downward, her expression troubled.
"It's okay to be worried for them," said Loki as he sat next to his daughter. Her head spiked up, startled by the observational skills of her father. "But if you let your worries affect you too much, then you will not get any sleep, and nobody wants that. Nobody wants a grouchy Eira."
"I'm not that grouchy," she responded. "But I am scared. I know I said to stop treating me like a baby, but can you stay with me until I fall asleep? I don't have Hati with me."
"Of course. Anything for you, my little one." Loki glanced at the nightgown, moving his hand so it was in Eira's vision. "I trust that you can put this on yourself."
Eira nodded while removing her jacket. She seized the nightgown and moved off the bed. Loki grabbed the jacket and folded it, repeating the action with each piece of clothing Eira discarded from her body. Placing her clothes on a table, he then diverted his attention to his daughter, now wearing the underdress and untying her braid. Her curls were situated in varying directions, some almost landing on a straight line.
"That unruly mane of yours has existed since the day of your birth," Loki commented. "You were born with a full head of curls. According to the healers, it was unprecedented."
He evened the tangles of her raven locks while guiding her to her bed. She placed herself under the multitude of blankets, laying her head against the pillow, maintaining eye contact with her father.
"You said I got my curly hair from Mummy, right? How did she handle her hair?"
"She complained about it, but she often styled her hair so that it was away from her face. However, the weather and even simple physics caused some issues."
"You're really good at brushing and braiding my hair," she said, a yawn deep interrupting once. "Uncle is also good at braiding. Natasha does a braiding style from Russia, and Steve looks confused looking at a hair tie."
"Braiding is a skill and valuable to many cultures. Do you want to go to the waterfall tomorrow? We have not been there in years. It will probably ease your mind."
"I'd like that, Daddy."
Her voice lazied as she answered Loki. Her eyes closed for seconds at a time before opening, the length between shortening during each occurrence. Young hands grasped the firm fingers of her father, her grip tightening whenever she opened her eyes. She was fighting sleep, Loki realized, but he recognized the heavy fluttering of her eyelids, so slumber would manipulate her body soon. His mouth was closed, choosing silence as her guidance to sleep. A singular finger stroked strands of her hair.
Even breathes departed from her mouth, her hand less curved around his finger, and her head deepened into the softness of her pillow. Loki's position remained: observing and comforting the most perfect being in the universe.
The week was a whirlwind. Watching the emotions of the nobles becoming aware of his lover's pregnancy, some cognizant of their unmarried status, and analyzing the best method and opportunity to alert the common folk.
The mind of Loki was both focused and in a daze.
His parents gave themselves of informing others about their growing families. They told him to continue his typical royal duties and prepare for fatherhood. He was too young to manage the opinions of the citizens, his mother knew his temper could cause trouble, so she wanted him to maintain his strengths.
But being aware of the conversations but unaware of the opinions within the whisperings distorted his focus. Loki tried to divert his thoughts into his work and personal life. The thoughts refused to leave, however. His feelings were not discussed with others, an indifferent facade not concerning to others, putting off any reasons to converse about his well being. Runa was already going through rapid changes: a new place to call home, an indefinite time not spent working, the circle of friends composed mostly of nobles. Loki decided that talking with her about his troubles would add to her distress, so he said nothing.
He couldn't stay in the palace if he wanted to ease his distraint. A mission would temporarily deter his mind and prove ineffective.
In his childhood, during his most stressful moments, Frigga took him to a cabin by a waterfall. Its location was only known by Asgardian nobelity. The wooden house was settled by the fall of a river. Flowers of diverse colors and structure surrounded the parameter.
Loki had not traveled to the cabin in hundreds of years. Sometimes his mind distracted himself from boring meetings with visions of the light taps of the water. He considered going back after missions to heal and relax, but the thought felt strange. The spacious cabin and its many luxuries meant to be utilized by a family. He maintained his composure by traveling through the woods on his house, discovering rivers and ponds, perhaps encountering an exotic animal or two.
He introduced the idea to Runa who was immediately intrigued by the vacation spot. She accepted the offer. They packed a bag of clothes for the night and morning - they planned to go away for just a day - and prepared a horse.
Minutes before midnight, Loki settled the horse in a stable by the cabin for the night. He laid a bucket of water by the mane's side. The thick, leather fabric of his attire weighed heavy on his depleted body.
Runa lay on the bed, her body facing the ceiling. Her nightgown was slightly pulled up as she observed her slimly curved stomach. Her thumb stroked the forming bulge, curious as to its sudden appearance.
She heard the footsteps of her lover and their sudden stop when he reached the doorway. A hand against the doorway, Loki stared at the position of Runa before his gaze focused on her roundish stomach.
"During our ride to the cabin I noticed that my stomach appeared puffy," she spoke. "I realize that I'm just a few days away from being three months pregnant, but I didn't think it would happen this soon. Maybe it is because we only found out about the baby last week. It is too soon to start showing though?"
"That I do not know," answered Loki, approaching the bed and settling next to Runa. "It feels more real now, however. Undeniable proof that the baby is here."
"The healers said they can determine the gender next month. The baby also may be kicking soon."
"Really?"
Loki's hand twitched from its place on his hip. Her sight fell toward the hand, seemingly eager to hold something.
"You can place your hand on my stomach. You are the father, after all."
His arm leaned forward toward her belly. His fingers stretched as they cupped her stomach, his skin touching the texture of her ripening stomach. It eventually settled, his arm relaxing. Runa leaned her head against his chest, the top of her head below his chin.
"I feel so helpless," Loki said. "I impregnated you. I forgot to use protection. I did this, and yet the burden of carrying our child has fallen onto you. All I can do is watch."
"I gave consent to the sex, Loki. I agreed to carry our child and raise it with you. You do not have to feel useless. For the past week you have been making my transition to living in your chambers uncomplicated. You introduced me to your friends, gave me hope that I can have a family again. Loki, you are the best being I have ever met. You proved that I can love again. Although the news itself was sudden, the baby might be the best thing to ever happen to me. Thank you for that, my love."
Loki kissed her forehead. "My darling, you have also done so much for me. This relationship is the deepest love I have felt. Runa, you have granted me indescribable happiness. I don't care that we are much younger than most expecting parents, I will continue to love you and our child. I am glad that you will have a true family."
Loki felt Runa smile. She placed her hand above his, still located on her growing stomach.
"You can help me, Loki. I will start throwing up in the morning. You can rub my back and move my hair back. Provide me comfort and assist me in preparing for the baby. That is what you can do."
"I'll do whatever I can for you and the baby."
The pants of her jumpsuit were rolled up to her knees. Eira put both of her braids behind her back, not wanting her hair to make contact with the stream of the river. She sat on the edge of the grassy plains, placing her feet in the water. Her feet relaxed in their bath, kicking without feeling the force of the air.
"Enjoying the river, are we?"
The braids bounced as Eira turned her head toward her father. Loki wore a more relaxed gardment: a polyester cyan undershirt with a midnight overshirt and pants. His hair lacked the control of gel, his waves in full effect. No boots were on his feet; he relished the feeling of the emollient grass, not contained in the palace of Asgard.
"Yes, it feels nice," responded Eira, watching Loki adjust the heights of his pants. "This was a good idea, Daddy. I've been very stressed lately."
"Why is that?" concern entered his tone.
His feet entered the water as he put a hand on his daughter's shoulder. Eira sighed and looked down at the stream, moving her legs.
"I think I'll be going to a school in a few months."
Loki hated the thought of his above-perfect daughter interacting with nimble, impotent humans. If she needed to stay in Midgard, then school was an imperative. But his vanity was unyielding, and he reflected it toward Eira, who probably had no comprehension of an ego.
"I realize that you are scared of interacting with other children, but you are such a courageous girl. So many people will aid you in easing your social anxiety. I can comfort you along the way, my little one. I want the best for you. Your uncle, Steve, and Natasha want the best for you."
"It's not just that, Daddy," she sniffled, her shoulders lowering in assertiveness. "I have to blend in, but I don't know if I can do that."
She lifted her hand, rotating it as her fingers twitched. "It's my strength. It's growing too quickly. I broke a chair a few days ago."
His eyes widened. An Asgardian does have a much higher level of strength when compared to most humanoid races, but the resiliency itself does not begin developing until late adolescence. How could a seven-year-old break a piece of furniture?
Then Loki remembered her mixed blood. The Jötnar had the same level of strength as the Aesir, but the durability when the genes intermingled was unidentified. A half-breed of those two races was biologically impossible. The frosty skin of a Jötunn would burn the skin of a lover of another species. But Loki was the only Frost Giant disguised with Asgardian magic, and his daughter was the first, and presumably only, child of both Jötnar and Aesir blood.
There was evidence of a prolonged interaction between the enemy species when Runa carried the half-breed in her belly. Her cause of death was written as blood loss, but hypothermia might have been a contributing factor.
Perhaps Eira's status as a halfling explained her heightened senses when she was a mere infant, or her advanced flexibility. Maybe, when she becomes a woman, her strength will surpass all known races. Could the opposing genes create health issues for her later in life? Loki didn't want to consider that. He already lost the love of his life, he could not lose his daughter as well. He did not want his family to be erased from existence. The mere thought was…
"I'm a monster," Eira sobbed, her hand shaking violently, her head on the verge of twitching. "Half-breeds like me don't exist. What if more things happen? I could hurt someone."
She choked on her cries, her back curling into legs, now removed from the river. Loki quickly lifted her into his hold, placing her on his lap and hugging her tightly.
"Eira, you are not a monster," he comforted, feeling the tears in the corner of his eyes. "You are a special little girl. You are the only being of both Jötunn and Asgardian descent. No one can compare to you. Your strength makes you more unique then you already are. You will be powerful, unstoppable, and respected. I can teach you to control it, and I am sure that your uncle will too."
The princess breathed heavily against his chest, her snot lightly staining his shirt, but Loki did not verbally comment. Some curls freed themselves from her braids, each strand laying in different directions.
Her tears finished falling though her cheeks and skin under the eyes remained red. She attempted to move the strands behind her ear, but her non-sentient curls were stubborn.
"I like my hair," she said after sighing. "But sometimes it can be too much. I know that it's against tradition, but I want to cut my hair like some women on Earth."
"Women on Asgard do cut their hair."
"I know, but I want my hair cut above my shoulders."
"Above the shoulders? Are you sure you want that?"
"I think so. I like the curls, but I can handle it better if it's shorter. I can still braid it. What do you think, Daddy?"
Loki hated the idea that his daughter was adapting to Midgardian customs. Even if she was living there, he wanted to be respected as the princess and goddess she was. But after her sudden show of distress followed by her enthusiasm of changing the length of her hair, he could not deny her. Additionally, it was not his hair. Eira could make her own decisions.
"The choice is determined by you," responded Loki. "If it makes you joyful, then I will be content."
Her warm smile returned. She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her head against his collarbone.
"Thank you, Daddy. Thank you for making me feel better."
Loki returned the gratitude with a smile. He rubbed her back as she encased his arms around her back.
"Anything for you, my little one. Anything for you."
The Dwarves in Nidavellir were capable of protecting themselves. Defense was essential for the blacksmithing race, as their powerful weapons were eyed by savage, foreign observers. But when the threat was unpredictable and one of its unexpendable rings was in need of remedying, Asgardian assistance was needed.
Thor had not slept for twenty-six hours, stubborn to observe for threats possibly wanting to damage the weakened ring. The fight itself was not difficult, but his lack of rest lengthed the duration of the battle.
With the battle finished - including a victory for the Nine Realms - Thor desired nothing more than to recuperate in his chambers.
He was excited for rest as he traveled through the Bifröst. Stepping onto the bridge, he initially guided himself toward the palace, but Heimdall interrupted his pacing. Eira had abruptly returned to Asgard, and SHIELD had fallen soon after.
He lifted Mjolnir and flew to the castle, leaving behind Sif and Hogunn. Marching past the servants and the greetings of nobles, he was in search of Eira's chambers.
"Eira!" he shouted as he opened her door without knocking. "Eira! Where are you?"
His gaze rebounded to his niece, sitting on her bed. Her stance straightened when he accosted into her chambers, the book she held fell onto her lap, the bowl of lefse traveled a centimeter in the air before settling next to her. The black braids, once behind her back, leaped and descended on her shoulders.
"Oh, thank Valhalla," spoke Thor with relief, rapidly approaching Eira and lifting her into an embrace. "Heimdall told me what happened. Excuse my brash behavior, I was thinking of the worst. I am beyond joyful that no harm has come to you."
"Uh, I'm okay, Uncle Thor," she responded with hesitation, the awkward stance of her body - her back curled, her weight supported by her toes - causing difficulty in her ability to speak. "Um, can you please put me down? I'm uncomfortable."
Thor lifted her and settled her on the bed. She adjusted her stance, putting her leg on the ledge.
"Heimdall rescued me right before a boogy hit the building we were in. Did he tell you if Steve and Natasha are okay?"
"He said that SHIELD has been disbanded. Steve has been injured but is being healed. I don't know if the Avengers are still in formation. We operated under SHIELD authority though we did act without their permission during our first mission."
"You and your team can still fight without SHIELD. Who else will protect the Midgardians?"
Thor grinned proudly. "Glad to see how passionate you are about defending the Realms. Such a compassionate princess."
She tilted her head with her mother's smile. "It's my duty as a princess. You really shouldn't be surprised."
"That I should not. Well, I have to report to the All-Father. Probably have to apologize to Sif and Hogunn for leaving them without reasoning on the Bifröst. I'll pester you later."
Eira sighed. "Of course you will. Every adult does that with me. Do you want a piece of lefse before you go?"
"Why not. I haven't eaten in hours, so it should not quell my hunger, but some form of food would soothe me for an hour or two."
"You didn't have to explain. I was just being nice."
"You really did inherit your father's personality."
"How is my favorite fossil doing?"
Steve sighed from his hospital bed as Natasha walked into the room. Sam extended his arm toward the speaker, turning down the volume, "Life is a Gamble" by Marvin Gaye playing at a lower intensity throughout the room.
"This young fossil is healing. How was your trip to Capitol Hill?" Steve questioned.
"The politicians on the committee suggested that my history makes me a criminal, and maybe my imprisonment would create relief.. I may or may not have told them the equivalent of 'fuck off.'"
"I was hoping you would do something like that," commented Sam.
Steve laughed before sobering. "Did they want to know where I was?"
"They did, but I told them it shouldn't matter. You'll make a public appearance when you are ready."
"Thanks, Nat."
The soldier shifted his head and leaned toward the table to his side. He grabbed a note, holding it up for Natasha to grasp.
"Eira made it back safely to Asgard, and apparently Loki heard about what happened. He sent us a letter while you were at the Capitol."
Natasha raised an eyebrow, curious to the contents of the note. The beige, bamboo-like texture hit her fingers. The letter was folded but it strived to stay open, probably unsealed unsealed and read by Steve earlier. The smooth strides of the pen caught her attention - the penmanship of Loki was remarkable - her focus then translocated to the words themselves.
To the Midgardians caring for my daughter:
Remember the time where you and my family agreed Midgard was the safest place for Eira. Maybe they should have considered the possibility that the very organization you work under has been corrupt since its origin. Perhaps all creatures are inadequate.
Excuse my short tangent; I was jesting to myself.
Disregarding my bitter sentiments toward you Avengers, I must thank you for protecting my daughter. You choose not to leave her behind in the clutches of your compromised organization. She can protect herself, but I sleep better at night when I am certain that her safety is secure. You took every precaution for her wellbeing. If you had not, you would have assuredly felt my wrath.
Eira is residing in the palace, concerned if you succeeded in defeating Hydra. Thor spent most of his afternoon comforting her and eyeing her for any scratches. He will probably visit you sometime soon, as Eira will presumably return to Earth in a day or two. Despite the recent events, Midgard is still the safest of the realms. Know that the moment her safety is threatened, I will take her with me.
Continue to care for my daughter. She eagerly awaits seeing each of you in good health.
This will be the only time I will thank you.
"Loki does a good job at being threatening in his letters," Natasha spoke after reading. She folded the letter and put it in her pocket. "Who will she be staying with?"
"I'm letting Steve stay at my place," interrupted Sam. "Since I wasn't involved with SHIELD, my information was not leaked. No one knows my address. Eira can stay with us. You both told me about her a day ago. She's just a kid, well, a kid with powers, but it wouldn't be right of me to deny her shelter."
"Thank you, Sam. I have things to take care of. She would not be safe with me."
"We'll take good care of her," said Steve, stretching his back against the bed frame. "Did any of the SHIELD files mention her?"
Natasha sighed before answering. "A file about Loki from 2012 involved details of his family. One of the bulletpoints said 'has a young daughter'. The Internet is currently trying to figure the whereabouts of her. That will be difficult, since her name is not mentioned in any of the files or any database on Earth. That is the only digital file she is referenced in. Paper files, however..."
"SHIELD and Hydra had files not leaked."
"Some reports were written by hand and not transferred electronically. Fury made sure any mention of her was located in physical transcripts. But the files about her - Fury had no involvement - were written by SHIELD higher ups (either dead or arrested) that wanted to… wanted to use her powers. They wanted to study her."
"Jesus," Sam breathed. Steve was silent, wondering how an organization tasked with protecting innocence had intentions of studying a little girl without her consent.
"Eira is a child," he gritted through shut teeth. "So what if her father is Loki? That wasn't her choice. She can practice her magic in peace. She doesn't want to harm anyone, and yet they planned to use her as a weapon."
"A weapon or a possible agent. Either way it feels wrong. She does want to help people, but they are probably gonna force her to work for them. Complete any missions they want even if she doesn't think it's right. Eira is an alien half-breed, so they were probably curious about her biology."
"Those people can't reach her, right?"
"No. All the agents who wrote those reports were part of Hydra. Most are dead while the others are arrested. If they try to tell anyone about her, we can send one of us to silence them."
The three sat in muteness, struggling to change the topic of conversation from the abuse of Eira's powers to anything else. "Deep In It" echoed through the room; that didn't fit the mood, but doing a simple action felt wrong.
"Sorry to ruin the mood," Natasha broke the silence. "I didn't intend to make you feel worse, but I thought you should know."
"Thanks for telling me," responded Steve. "So you have some things to cover up?"
"I'm fixing what I can here. I heard that you'll be out of here tomorrow. Fury wants to meet us by his grave. Can you make it?"
Steve grinned. "I don't have anything else going on."
"Then I'll see you then."
Natasha exited the room. Steve turned to Sam and glanced at the speaker.
"Do you mind going back to the last song?" he requested. "I couldn't hear it due to the conversation."
"No problem man."
Sam clicked a button, immediately changing the song to the previous one.
"You were right, Sam. This is a pretty good album."
"You can't lie about quality when it comes to Marvin Gaye," said Sam with a smile.
The leaves of an oak tree provided shade for Eira and Sam despite the early January weather offering little sunlight. Eira laid her back against the bark while Sam sat ninety degrees from her, his back opposing Steve, glancing at the graves nearby.
"How did you make those wings of yours by yourself," Eira asked Sam.
"I took my engineering classes in high school very seriously," answered Sam. "I started building them in my free time while in the academy. My higher-ups noticed and gave me the materials to make it better, let me use them on missions with my pal Riley."
His tone saddened upon mentioning Riley. Eira was curious as to who Riley was, but she sensed that the man might have been a sensitive subject for Sam, so she said nothing. She decided to maintain the focus on his Falcon uniform.
"Can you show me your costume?" she asked.
"Well I have to make a lot of repairs to the left wing, and I want to adjust the color. I can show you when I'm done. In exchange, you can demonstrate some of your magic for me."
"I would gladly show you," her head lifted with glee. "Steve and Natasha haven't let me practice my magic for them."
"We've been getting to know each other for the past month," interrupted Steve. "I would have let you soon if that's what you wanted."
Eira giggled with her eyes shut. As they opened, she saw an African-American man wearing a dark hood and sunglasses. Sam noticed the man and stood up as his eyes sparked in recognition. She tilted her head, attempting to identify the man. As he approached further, Eira validated his facial structure. Fury, she soon realized.
Fury spoke to Steve, Sam standing by the soldier with his arms crossed. They looked at his grave before Fury explained his future plans.
"I wish I was still your age so I wouldn't have to listen to his boring business talk," spoke Natasha, walking toward Eira with a jacket in her hold.
"Natasha! Where have you been?"
"I've been prepping for my flight," she answered. "Thinking about what to do for the next few months."
"Wait, you're leaving?"
"When SHIELD fell, all of my information was leaked. I have to clean up some things before I come back. Don't worry, you'll stay with Steve at Sam's place. You guys will probably move to New York in a few months under the security of Stark."
"Oh, okay. I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too, Eira. The past few weeks without you have been a lot of fun. Be ready for when I return, we'll have a lot to catch up on."
"Alright," Eira responded with a smile.
Nat walked toward Sam and Steve the same moment Fury approached her. He knelt down, pointing at his grave.
"Anybody asks for me," he stated. "Tell them they can find me right here."
Eira giggled and nodded.