Remember how last chapter ended? Yeah. Aaravos is piiiiiissed at Viren now.
14: Did You Really Think Anything Could Separate The Midnight Star and Asgard's Greatest Sorcerer for Long Once they Confess their Love?
After helping Aaravos to a more comfortable spot on the couch in the sitting room, Loki sets about her new task. Aaravos will be escaping today, and Loki refuses to leave him now that she knows how he feels about her. She will find a way. She has to.
Unfortunately, she does not have time to master a new arcanum. She will use what she has: the Moon, and her Asgardian seidr. She was not Asgard's greatest sorcerer for nothing. She can do this. She has to.
Aaravos floats just behind the mage the entire ride to the Storm Spire, staying silent save for commands phrased as suggestions.
As they get close, he tells the mage how to drain a dragon's power for himself, conveniently forgetting to mention that the exact words he tells the mage to say will actually transfer the power to Aaravos. There is, however, a slight hitch in the plan, in the form of a small army of Sunfire elves. No matter, that is what the transformed human army is for.
"Wait for my word," Aaravos says. He knows the usual Sunfire tactic.
But the human prince, the fool, charges forward, and the rest of the army follows him.
Loki begins with entering a meditative state. She worries that when she returns, Aaravos will be gone, so she takes a long look at him, as if to memorize every aspect of his face: the diamonds on his cheeks, the sparkling freckles like stars, the sweep of his white hair over his brow.
Then, she begins her work, mentally traversing the entirety of the prison, the edges of this tiny universe. She can see the link to Xadia like a thick sturdy rope, and there is another, smaller thread connecting Aaravos to Xadia as well. That must be his link to the caterpillar on the other side.
Loki will not deny that the temptation to sever the thread exists, a small selfish voice that she wishes was not there at all. The temptation fades quickly, as she knows she has no way to know if he would retain his senses. Besides, that is not what she has set out to do. The rest of the prison exists as a giant tangled knot of magic threads. Loki should have known it would not be so simple to find where her magic is entangled. Well… at least it will keep her busy.
Aaravos sighs, and, as he discussed with the mage on the ride, the mage slips away when the army charges. His daughter and an illusion lead the charge.
As the mage begins climbing the mountain, Aaravos looks back to see the young sorceress casting spell after spell with the corrupted sun scepter. He needs to find her again when he is free. She is determined and capable, he needs to at least see if he can get her as an apprentice.
His attention is pulled back to the mountain when the mage begins wheezing. With a flick of his fingers, Aaravos says "Ventus Spiralis," and the mage takes a deep breath.
"Thank you," he says.
"Do not thank me yet," Aaravos responds, pointing up. "You have some distance to go yet, and you had best pray a dragon does not see you before you reach the top."
If he did not still need the mage, he might not cast an illusion around him, turning him invisible, just before several dragons fly past the mountain towards the battling armies.
Untangling a normal knot, made of simple materials such as chain or rope, is a frustrating enough endeavor. When the threads are made of pure energy and magic of a foreign world, such that they may decide to slip from your fingers or disappear from sight, it is even more tedious and rage-inducing. Even more irritating is that Loki can find several threads of her magic all tangled in the prison. Her shapeshifting remains ever within her, and thus untouched by the bindings of this world. Her ability to cast illusions, however, is tied in, a bright green rope trailing out from her and disappearing in the mess.
There's her telekinesis, more golden and a bit weaker than her illusion casting. Even her jotun powers, white with a tinge of blue, are all mixed up with the rest. The fact that she can see it at all is startling to her. She must be much more connected to it than ever. The… incident… today might have had something to do with it. There is another new thread as well, and as she inspects it, she realizes it is her Moon arcanum.
She is not sure what to start with, as all her powers are pulled in different directions. After some deliberation, she starts with her illusions.
The mage focuses on climbing the mountain path, but Aaravos is looking around, studying his enemies. He sees several soldiers attempting to climb the mountain, only for a human-looking boy to blow them off with an aspiro. Yet… he does not seem to have a primal stone. Aaravos files this away for future reference, and looks back up the mountain.
"Can you climb any faster?"
The mage shoots him a glare. "You are not even walking."
Aaravos pushes down his frustration. Patience will be more productive now than rage. He need only tolerate the mage another hour, perhaps even less.
He begins talking again, ensuring the mage knows quite well what he is to do, the spell he is to cast to steal the dragons' energy.
"Take the queen's energy," he says, remembering Loki's reaction to his plan to capture the prince. "She is far more powerful than the prince; his energy will be barely an ember compared to her flames. Leave him be for now, he will be more useful this way."
The mage nods in understanding, but saves his breath for climbing.
The process of finding where her illusion magic is tied to this world is a long and tedious one. Eventually, when she does, it comes in the form of a powerful barrier. The thread of Loki's illusion magic disappears as if into a wall. She gives it a tug, only to be rewarded with a stabbing sensation right through her chest. Loki lands back in her body, gasping for breath and performing a hasty healing spell to ease the pain that rips through her body. Loki looks up at Aaravos, still seated on the couch.
"Hopefully your endeavors are going better than mine."
When they reach the top of the mountain, Aaravos allows the mage a few minutes to catch his breath before telling him, "Get up. We have no time to waste. You must get to the queen before they realize the battle was but a distraction."
The mage nods and pulls himself up. "Where is she?"
Aaravos's lips curl into a smirk. "Not out leading the charge against your army, so I expect she is injured in some way. Perhaps still grieving the loss of her mate. She will be in the same cavern you took my mirror from."
The mage begins walking swiftly, somehow knowing the correct way to go despite the fact he cannot have been here more than once.
Loki dives back into the task of untangling her magic. When she reaches the source of the problem significantly faster this time, she does not pull, just touches the barrier as gently as possible. There is a tingling sensation that spreads through her hands and arms.
What kind of magic is this? Loki wonders. She goes through every kind of binding spell she can remember, both in what she has read in Aaravos's books and in Asgardian literature. She traces the space around where her magic is bound and can feel the leftover echoes of runic magic, very similar to what was used to cuff her on Asgard. How strange… perhaps some things transcend universes?
Here, however, she can feel the echoes of each primal source. Each one built into the prison and holding her magic hostage.
Loki feels the familiar touch of the moon arcanum, but when she tries to draw on her own moon magic, she is pulled away in another direction to where her Moon Arcanum is trapped.
One can use their magic within the prison, but on the edges of the prison and beyond, it pulls you back, and you cannot use your magic to break the bindings because the bindings keep your magic out of reach.
It is a dastardly clever kind of prison, one built for someone as powerful as Aaravos. Something that would withstand a lot of force would not be enough, as he could wear it down eventually. No, what they needed to do is keep everything just out of reach. Go to where your Moon magic is, you need Star magic to free it. Go to where the Star magic is, you need your Sun magic.
And that would mean that mages with every arcanum would have to come together to free him… something only a king or queen of all could order.
The queen is protected only by an elfling and a glow toad, of all creatures, along with the prince. He is even smaller than Aaravos expected, barely bigger than a large cat.
"You can remove the elfling from your path without harming her," Aaravos hisses in Viren's ear. She is in her mid-teens, he thinks, and Loki will not be happy if he allows the mage to harm another child.
Is he even listening to me still? Aaravos wonders as the mage stabs his staff into the ground, conjuring ice around the girl. If not, it could be dangerous to let the mage continue, but for now, the man is his only hope.
The mage fixes his gaze on the baby dragon, and Aaravos closes his eyes in a silent curse. Loki will kill me for this, should she ever find out.
"Run!" the elfling calls out. Aaravos opens his eyes in time to see the mage hurl the glow toad into a wall. The dragonling is gone, and for that, at least, Aaravos is glad.
The mage glares at the elf, pulling out his coin pouch and tossing it in his hand. "I will return for you soon. It will be a pleasure to add one more Moonshadow elf to my collection."
He turns and walks, not rushing, the way the dragonling fled.
"What are you doing?" Aaravos demands, following the mage. "The Dragon Queen is that way!" He gestures. "Just the next room past the one where you trapped the elfling."
The mage's pace quickens. "I will harvest her after I catch the Dragon Prince."
Aaravos's fists clench. "Do you never listen to me? I told you the Dragon Prince will be more useful if you do not go after him today!"
"I disagree."
Returning to himself, Loki conjures his pen and paper after shifting form to make himself more comfortable, trying to formulate a plan. He scribbles down a diagram, trying to follow a path where he can access his moon magic.
His ability to travel dimensions was locked among the rest of his powers, so how, then, was he able to leave in the first place? Was it because he was still using his power within the bounds of the prison when he first opened his portal?
No, then he would have been able to leave from the start.
The grumbling of his stomach reminds him that he never ate the dinner Aaravos made. He needs food if he is going to continue to tackle this conundrum.
Face a mask of cool indifference, Aaravos follows the mage as he advances on the dragonling. Admittedly, his deflection of the dragon's lightning is impressive, but not good enough.
The dragonling leaps off the mountain. Fly, Aaravos encourages him silently. Fly far from here, little prince. Oh– perhaps he can use aspiro to help the dragonling? But then the mage would know…
Before he has worked out whether to risk it or not, the mage has begun the spell, and the dragonling is being pulled inexorably towards him.
Whether Aaravos likes it or not, this spell is happening, and the dragonling's energy will likely be enough to free him. The best he can do now is to continue the spell, allow the mage to drain as much energy as the dragonling can spare before cutting him off. He can convince the mage to leave, then, leave the baby dragon for the elf to find. He will be alright, and perhaps Loki will forgive Aaravos.
He turns at a slight sound, sees the elfling somehow free and rushing towards the mage. He raises his hand, using his magic to knock her back down the steps, and turns back. He needs to watch the spell carefully, to know the right moment to cut the mage off.
Loki finds the bowls of soup set down on the desk in the library. He takes them to the kitchen to reheat. Aaravos will need food soon as well, he cannot expect to transfer to a new body without proper nourishment, can he? Answers come to Loki as he is heating the pot of vegetables on the stove. He felt this when he was investigating where his magic is stored: the walls of this world are remarkably thick, difficult enough to form a portal through without the necessary boost to Loki's magic, probably an additional precaution. He was able to break through because he created the rift within the prison, but was swiftly pulled back by the hold on his magic.
He wants to share this revelation with Aaravos. That, along with the idea that if he can just get one aspect of his magic free, he may be able to free Aaravos as well. Aaravos is connected to all six primal sources, free one and they can free them all.
This might actually work. This prison was designed to house one person, not two people that could help each other.
Aaravos turns a split second before the elfling dashes directly through his astral form, scattering it. He gasps as he feels himself dissolve.
His sight is gone for only a few seconds of pure panic before his vision fades back in and he sees sky and mountain blurring past him. What–?
He turns his head, looking around, and discovers that his sight has somehow transferred to his caterpillar. He continues twisting, he needs to know what happened.
When he sees the mage below him and the elfling above, he guesses that the elfing sacrificed herself to stop the mage. Brave, but foolish. Then again, how could she have known he would not allow the mage to permanently harm the dragon prince?
He hears a faint cry from the mountain, sounding something like a name. "Rayla"? A moment later, the boy mage he saw earlier plummets through the air.
The caterpillar's body turns over, tossed by the wind, and Aaravos sees the mage again. He cannot see the ground.
This is it. This is truly it. His greatest gamble, and he failed. The caterpillar will break on the ground. Aaravos may be able to keep it alive through magic, but he cannot protect the mage as well. And when the mage dies, the spell will end. Aaravos's bond with the caterpillar will be broken, his voice, sight, and hearing trapped permanently in the insect. He will not be able to use it to escape.
He feels a tear trace its way down his real body's cheek as he realizes he will never see Loki again, never hear her voice or her laugh. Never tell her he loves her. He may still be imprisoned with her, but he has left her alone all the same, and now he has no way to free her.
I'm sorry, Loki. I promised you I would not fail, and now I have broken that promise. I'm so sorry.
Loki returns to the sitting room with the bowls in hand. "Let us see how edible your cooking is, Aaravos. All I did this time was reheat what we forgot to eat."
Loki nearly drops the soup bowls when he sees the tears on Aaravos's cheeks. He manages enough presence of mind to set them down carefully before rushing to Aaravos's side. He wipes the tears from his cheeks with gentle swipes of his thumbs, cupping the elf's face in both his hands. "What's happening, Aaravos?" He grabs a nearby pad of paper and thrusts it into Aaravos's hands before bringing his hands back to his face, needing to comfort him somehow.
The caterpillar turns over again, and now Aaravos can see the elfling reaching up to the human. They truly do love each other, he thinks sadly. Only love could be so foolish as to hurl oneself from a cliff like that. Yet he knows already he would do the same for Loki in a moment. Is it really the same, though? If he had his body, Aaravos would be at no risk in such a fall.
Somehow, he hears the human boy say, "Rayla… I love you."
Aaravos feels Loki's hands– male hands, now– on his face, gently brushing the tears away. "I love you," he says, knowing Loki will not hear the words but needing to say them anyway.
The human mage grows wings and catches the elf, and Aaravos feels a sting of envy that he will get to tell her he loves her. She will hear, and he will be able to continue telling her. It is not fair that he does not have that same chance with Loki.
More tears fall when he feels Loki press a pad of paper into his hands. He wants him to write something? For once, he has no hesitation in deciding what he will write to him. He closes his eyes, fumbles for the pen, and when he finds it writes, "I love you–"
The caterpillar hits the ground.
Aaravos screams soundlessly as the insect's body breaks apart, thrashing in pain. Why, damn it, does it hurt so much? It is only his voice, why can he feel the impact in every fiber of his body?
Loki barely sees the message left on the page, "I love you," before Aaravos begins convulsing, doubling over in pain and mouth open in a soundless scream.
"No, no no no no," Loki cries. He has no way of knowing what is happening, all he knows is that Aaravos chose to write "I love you" as if he were saying goodbye. Loki clasps Aaravos's hands, rubbing his thumbs over the back in as much of a soothing gesture as he can provide. "You have to hold on Aaravos, you have to live. You cannot leave me, I will not let you."
Loki strokes Aaravos's hair, sending waves of healing magic through him. Anything that he thinks could help him, numb him to the pain at least. If he passes out from the pain, Loki does not know what he could do. He holds Aaravos close, pulling the sagging form to his chest and stroking his hair. "You cannot leave me. Please do not leave me. Please. You have to be okay. Please, you have to be okay." Loki's voice trembles, and tears run down his face.
Aaravos does not know how long he screams before the pain fades enough for him to register a voice. The mage's daughter, grieving for her father.
He feels numb, now. His screams are gone, and he feels emptied.
"He is dead, then," he says, testing if his voice still works. It does, and the mageling startles at the sound.
"You!" she shouts, standing and taking a menacing step towards the caterpillar's broken body. "You did this! You killed my father!" She's still holding the sun scepter, and now she raises it as if to hit the caterpillar with it.
"I did not," Aaravos manages. "But I can tell you how to bring him back."
The girl lowers the staff. "I'm listening."
After what feels like agonizing hours but what was most likely a fraction of that, Aaravos takes a deep breath, and he begins to sit up a little. Loki sees his mouth move and heaves a heavy sigh of relief. "Thank the Norns."
His next action is more impulsive and borne of sheer joy at seeing Aaravos pull through than anything. He kisses the elf on the cheek, lips lingering and hovering over the skin so Aaravos can hopefully feel the words on Loki's mouth. "I love you too. I love you. I love you. I love you."
Aaravos's explanation to the mageling stutters to a halt at feeling Loki's breath on his face. Loki right there. So close.
"Aaravos?" the mageling prompts when he has been silent several seconds. "You were saying?"
"H-have you ever done such a spell before?" Aaravos manages, still feeling soft puffs of breath on his cheek.
The mageling nods. "Once. My brother was paralyzed, I fixed him." She shudders, lifting a strand of her hair, white where the rest is black. "I had to kill a deer, and it took something out of me, but…" She shrugs, dropping the hair. "It doesn't matter. He's okay now. Tell me what I need to do to save my dad, I can handle it."
Aaravos tells her.
Loki squeezes Aaravos's hand, heart still racing from the fear. He feels fresh tears roll down his cheeks. "I think I found a way to free us. I know you cannot hear me. I wish there was a way I could tell you. Please, I hope whatever went wrong convinces you to come back. Come back and get your bearings so I can share my plan."
Aaravos squeezes Loki's hand back. He lost the pen and paper when the caterpillar hit the ground, so he cannot write anything, but he tries to communicate I am here, I am not leaving. I am here.
He pulls on Loki's hand, attempting to pull him in for a hug. He wants to pull Loki in for a kiss, but he also wants to wait until he can see and hear Loki's reaction. And he feels the need to ask first; he is not sure Loki would appreciate the surprise.
Aaravos's hands fumble on the ground before pulling Loki into a hug. He melts into the embrace, squeezing Aaravos perhaps a little too tight as he is so caught up in the relief that Aaravos seems to be okay.
Loki finds the pen several feet away, having rolled across the floor. He puts it into Aaravos's hand, the pad of paper in the other. Then, he keeps his hands occupied with stroking Aaravos's hair. "Just tell me what you need. I'm here, Aaravos."
Aaravos's heart beats as if it is about to break free of his chest. "I am sorry, Loki. I failed you." He shuts his eyes against tears. "I promised to free you, and I do not know if I will be able to. I promised I would not fail you, and yet I have. I am so sorry, my love."
He's told Loki what he needs to, so now he concentrates on moving the caterpillar. If he is to have even a chance at reuniting his voice and sight with his body, he needs the caterpillar to spin its cocoon, to heal itself.
Loki's heart breaks at reading the words Aaravos writes. "No, my love, you have not failed." Loki sighs heavily. "Perhaps I should have tried harder to establish communication with you, so I could tell you that I may have found another way to free us."
Loki squeezes Aaravos's hand, "But I suppose I cannot be certain it will work. I will need to do more research, but I will find a way. Once I have freed myself, I can help you better."
Aaravos feels Loki squeeze his hand, and he manages to squeeze back before his own hand goes limp. He cannot move his physical body and still give the caterpillar the focus it needs to spin the cocoon. If it is to work, he needs to stay with the caterpillar the entire time, infusing the cocoon with his magic, then, as the insect dissolves to bring his body into Xadia, he will need to focus on that to keep it from absorbing into the cocoon and losing his voice forever.
As he spins the cocoon, he is distantly aware of the mageling leaving. She returns, full of magic, to begin her spell just as he weaves the last part of his cocoon, sealing the caterpillar inside.
It is so dark, so small. Aaravos is not claustrophobic, but even so, his breathing quickens. The sooner he is free, the better.
Loki is about to begin work on freeing his powers from the web, but his ears pick up on the quickening of Aaravos's breath. Aaravos's brow is furrowed, as if in pain, and Loki leaps up to perform another healing spell. Loki checks Aaravos's temperature by placing the back of his hand on the elf's forehead. Then, he uses his seidr to sense what is wrong with Aaravos. He can find no specific maladies other than the clear signs that Aaravos is expending a lot of magic.
And… he is nervous. Loki wishes he could do more. There is a part of him that considers a calming remedy, but Aaravos clearly needs his focus, and that may muddy his mind. Instead, Loki settles for sitting next to Aaravos's form on the couch, leaning his head on Aaravos's shoulder and clasping his limp hand. "I miss you already…" Loki murmurs.
Not all of Aaravos's focus is spent on keeping the swiftly dissolving caterpillar and the cocoon separate, and with what is left he lets his mind wander to freedom. What will he do when the cocoon breaks apart and he walks free in Xadia once again?
First, he will simply enjoy being once again surrounded by magic and life, walking on grass again, breathing fresh air. He will sleep at day and wake in the evening, to spend hours staring at the stars. He will…
He becomes aware of his real body again for a moment, just long enough to feel a pressure on his shoulder and hand. Loki.
Unbidden, his mind goes back to Loki's panic attack of only hours ago. What would happen if, as he is walking free and stargazing while Loki is still imprisoned, Loki has another panic attack? Aaravos would not be there for him.
This is the best way.
But is it?
This time, when Loki investigates the bindings that hold his powers captive, he follows the thread of his Moon arcanum. It is much harder to keep track of, the connection still fresh and tenuous. He loses his place twice and has to start from the beginning, growling with frustration each time. Each time, Loki takes several deep breaths before trying again, knowing he cannot afford to lose his composure when his mind is in such a vulnerable state.
Finally, he reaches the source of the trap. Tracing the area and the remnants of the runes, he is surprised he recognizes the energies there. He does not recognize it from his own personal connection, but because this power is so much like Aaravos, so sparkling and effervescent, that the key to freeing his connection to the moon is to use star magic.
Fate has a terrible sense of humor.
"For the release spell to work, one must be wholly certain of what they want," Aaravos recalls. He remembers the next line too: If desire is split, the mind, and therefore the body, will be as well. You cannot truly be free if some part of you remains behind.
The spell will not work, Aaravos will not be able to free himself, not so long as his heart remains with Loki and Loki remains in the prison. But no more can he go back to the prison, as that would mean committing fully to imprisonment.
Aaravos lets out a low, anguished groan. He must give something up, or be trapped like this forever. But, Xadia or Loki? It is an impossible choice.
If I could just ask Aaravos, tell him about this, then he could free me, could he not? But of course, as soon as I make proper leeway towards freedom, he is completely cut off from communication. I cannot even wait until he gets to the mirror from the outside because I have no idea what went wrong. He may not be able to free himself. We are trapped in limbo with barely any ability to communicate since his body seems to have completely given up.
Loki hates this. The only comfort that he has is that Aaravos is still breathing, that he is still connected to his body in the mirror somehow. Loki does not know what he would do otherwise.
Xadia or Loki, Loki or Xadia? Aaravos has to give one of them up, or lose both.
He pulls his mind from the problem barely in time to keep the liquified caterpillar from absorbing into the cocoon, cursing his lack of focus. He needs to choose, and fast. He cannot do this forever; sooner or later his mind will tire and lose hold of the liquid, it will soak into the cocoon, and be gone forever.
If I choose Xadia, I will be able to free Loki from there. It would be the better choice, more logical.
But if I choose Xadia, Loki will be alone. Look at what has happened the other times I have left him alone, the dark magic, panic attacks, nightmares. I cannot leave him alone, not again.
If I choose Loki, I will be able to be here with him, to help him, keep him safe.
But if I choose Loki, I will have to give up Xadia. I may be imprisoned for eternity.
Is Loki not worth my freedom?
Aaravos isn't the only place you can find the Star Arcanum, a devious voice suggests in Loki's mind.
No… no absolutely not.
What other choice do you have?
I can wait… I can wait for him to either disappear and go to the other side, or return here and inform him of the plan
How long are you willing to wait?
He would not want me to go this route.
You have done it once, you can do it again.
At great personal cost. I could have died.
But isn't Aaravos worth it?
Loki opens his eyes, looking down at their joined hands, Aaravos's grip nonexistent. "Yes, you are worth it, Aaravos."
Xadia or Loki?
Freedom or love?
Aaravos feels torn in two. How is he supposed to decide?
He feels the caterpillar sinking into the cocoon again. He needs to choose, now.
Aaravos swallows hard, forcing down the lump in his throat, and chooses.
He exhales, letting go of Xadia and letting Loki fill his mind. Xadia is nothing. Unimportant. He will never return, he has nothing left for him there. He needs to believe this to truly let go of his ho– the world he once called his.
Xadia rejected Aaravos, so now Aaravos rejects Xadia.
Loki hates to leave Aaravos's side, especially to enter the room that Aaravos is so ashamed of, but at least it is no longer forbidden, not since Loki requested some fiction to read when he had grown too tired of his studies.
On the shelf lies the lone antler without its mate, the companion to the antler Loki stole so long ago. It seems appropriate that he should take it now. It is an incomplete pair, just as Loki is.
Loki does not approach this quite as he did the last time. Instead, he looks for the connection to the star arcanum held in the antler, as well as any connection it may have to the prison. He can sense the tenuous connection to Aaravos, almost nonexistent, but it is clear to him that had Aaravos attempted to use these to enhance his power (and perhaps he had) that it would have been as useful as drawing on his own arcanum.
But… from the outside… perhaps he can use it.
I do not need to dissolve you, not rob you of your power. Loki keeps this intention in mind as his power flows through the bone. A key retains its shape when used in a door lock. That is all I ask, not to convert or corrupt, just a key.
The very air seems to tremble around Loki. This is not dark magic, not quite, but not star magic, as he does not have his own connection. He tries to stay calm, to keep his magic in check. He will not push this time, he will not force this with strength. When has brute force ever served him? Why would he use brute force when it is not where his strengths lie?
Because I have always tried to be Thor.
But I am loved now for everything I am, for my own unique qualities.
The magic that bursts from him is uniquely Loki. For a moment, he is proud of his growth…
Until it becomes clear that the fabric of this universe does not like that. There's a blast of bright light, and Loki's vision goes dark.
He keeps his consciousness in the cocoon awhile longer, suspending the goop away from the cocoon as he pulls it back to his body. He feels a slight chill as it settles into him, and he can somehow sense the return of his sight, voice, and hearing.
He blinks, joy welling up inside him at the fact that it worked, he can see, he can see the sitting room, see the books nearby
–what he cannot see is Loki.
Fear sends a chill down his spine as he stands. Where is Loki? Is he alright, has he had another panic attack, has he hurt himself? What if he needs Aaravos, and he is too late?
"Loki!" Aaravos calls, moving towards the door. The last time Loki had a panic attack, he went to the garden. Perhaps he is there now? "LOKI!"
Loki is not in the garden. But where else could he be?
Dark magic, sneaks into Aaravos's thoughts, and he pales. My comfort library. My antlers.
He turns and runs.
Aaravos was right. He does not know that he has ever hated being right more.
Loki stands near Aaravos's antler shelf, eyes inky black and unseeing. Aaravos rushes to him, cupping his face with one hand and putting the other around him. "Loki, please, please be well, why are you so foolish as to try this again, did you not learn from the first time?"
He pulls Loki closer, pressing their cheeks together. "Please, my love, my starlight, come back to me. Please."
"You're something different, something that does not belong."
Loki opens his eyes to see both the small library in front of him, as well as, superimposed upon the image, the threads of magic weaving through the prison. This is… new. Often he sees these things in the abstract, and only when he focuses: not all around him at all times.
And the voice that speaks to him is not a voice, not a person, but the sentiments of the prison nevertheless, something that, at best, translates to a vague feeling more than specific words. Loki, fortunately, can still make sense of it.
"I landed here by accident, many moons ago. I am not from the world you were created from."
"Your magic is strange, and it does not fit our laws."
"Where I come from, I am known as the god of chaos. I have never been particularly fond of laws."
"So you are imprisoned here as punishment."
"No, I was passing through. My imprisonment was an accident."
"That's not how this works."
"Yet, somehow, that is precisely what happened."
"You need to leave."
"Believe me, I have tried."
"Then you need to die."
"No no no wait! I will leave, but I… I need your help."
"That is not possible."
"I think it is, else you would not be talking to me at all… er… communicating. I cannot leave so long as my powers are entangled with you. They do not belong here, they do not fit in this prison. Release them, and I will swiftly be on my way."
"...you share a connection with the prisoner. You might stay with him, thus disturbing the balance. Destroying you is easier, removes what does not belong."
"Killing me gives you no guarantee that my powers will go with me. I am called a god for a reason, my powers transcend my form. They may linger for centuries longer."
"Do you speak the truth?"
"Perhaps… are you willing to take that gamble? Give me forty-eight hours after freeing my powers. If I am not gone by then, feel free to kill me."
There is a long and lingering silence.
"This is acceptable."
Loki grins. "Glad we could come to an arrangement."
There is another flash of white, and a concussive feeling on his chest, not unlike being hit with his brother's hammer. He falls, but he does not hit the floor, instead caught in someone's arms.
"Loki," Aaravos breathes, seeing his eyes clear back to vibrant green. "My starlight." He pulls him closer, noting how much he needs to support Loki. "Are you all right?"
Loki blinks up at Aaravos, not quite comprehending what is in front of him. He is insufferably dizzy on top of it all. "That… was weird. I have not felt so out of sorts since a misadventure on Midgard half a century ago." He squints at the elf in front of him, trying to bring his sight back into focus. "Are you really here? Did the glowy threads pull you back?"
Aaravos blinks back tears, unable to stop smiling at Loki, not that he wants to. "I have no idea what 'glowy threads' you speak of," he says, "but yes, I am truly here." His hands move up to cup Loki's face. "I am here, my starlight, and I do not intend to ever leave you again."
Loki grips Aaravos's shoulders, both to prove this fact and to steady himself. His mind begins to clear from the overwhelming energies that coursed through him, and he cannot stop the grin that spreads across his face. "You came back. I love you. I love you so much. You came back." Loki pulls Aaravos into a hug, mumbling into his shoulder, "I thought you were gone for good. I was terrified, Aaravos, but you're here and you're okay and I would not dare ask for anything more."
Aaravos's heart aches at Loki's admission. "I would never have left you for good, my love, I hope you know that. Never. I planned to leave only to free you, but…" He shrugs slightly, and his arms tighten around Loki. "I could not leave you, even for that. I am sorry, sorry I was not… If I were stronger, perhaps I could have left, could have you free within a month as I promised, but now…" Tears prick at his eyes, and he cannot continue.
"But now…" Loki continues for Aaravos. "Now that you are back, we can be free within the day." Loki grins almost manically, so delighted by the news. "We have no time to waste, I am not sure how long it will take the prison to catch on. What do you wish to take with you? I will put it in my pocket dimension."
Aaravos pulls back enough to look into Loki's eyes. "The prison is… sentient? ...yes, I suppose that makes sense. How did you– it is unimportant now." He shakes his head, pulling his thoughts in this new, joyful, direction. "Only some clothes and books, as well as my antlers. Nothing of any importance was locked away with me; it is all still in my house, or looted, or destroyed."
"It is only slightly sentient, no more than the workings of any other universe usually is. I will come with you to gather what you want, and while you do so, I will explain the plan to you. I will only be able to take you part of the way, the rest should be well in your capabilities, but I cannot free you entirely." Loki grabs Aaravos's hand and begins tugging him the direction of the shelves to grab whatever books he wants.
Aaravos's heart sinks again, but only until he registers the entire sentence. "What must I do for your freedom, starlight?"
That is the third time now Aaravos has used that new name for him. His train of thought is interrupted as he has to ask, "Starlight? What happened to Princess?"
Aaravos pauses in pulling out books, and turns to Loki. "I could continue calling you Princess, if you prefer. 'Starlight' is an old term of endearment among Startouch elves, though not often used." His brow creases momentarily as he thinks about how to put the meaning into words.
"Do you remember me telling you that I could gain energy from the stars? That I did not need rest, and needed less food, when I had their light to sustain myself on?" He smiles, reaching out to touch Loki's face again. "That is what 'starlight' means; that is what you are to me."
Loki's breath hitches. He cannot fully comprehend being so loved, so cherished. He leans into Aaravos's touch, his eyes drinking in the beautiful elf before him. Once, early on, he might have asked what terrible thing he had done to deserve such an unjust imprisonment. Now, he asks what saintly actions he has performed in life to deserve such a beautiful love from such a wonderful person.
It is a rare occurrence that Loki's words fail him, but it is all he can do to raise his hand to Aaravos's cheek, mirroring the elf's touch, and say, "I'd very much like to kiss you now."