So my first semester of grad school was wicked harder than I expected and I'm so sorry and don't hate me please. Here are 3000 words as appeasement to the ff gods! Take them and enjoy and a blessed Yule to all!
Another rock sailed by, crashing into the wall he was just leaning against and spraying him with dust and debris. Loki ducked behind a larger rock in the hopes of finding some sort of cover. This might not have been the best place to bring her. His thoughts were confirmed when his cover slowly rose up above his head, illuminated in Emory's purple and black magic. Fine. If she wanted to play dirty and use magic, so would he. He surrounded her with six of his tall figure, hopefully confusing her too much for him to be crushed by that menacing boulder.
She glanced around, shook her head, and dropped the large stone. He took the time to drink her in. He had not laid eyes on her in almost three years, and if it were possible she had only grown more beautiful, even in anger. Her dark raven curls whipped wildly around her face and body, only accentuating her figure and high cheekbones. Blue, glittering eyes shone at him like angry jewels, filled with the power of her rage.
He looked forward to having her back. But he wouldn't forgive her. Not easily. Not for running away, not for her new companion, and especially not for hiding their daughter, his daughter, from him. She betrayed him, and she deserved his wrath. He had to hide any affection, not let her have any power over him.
"Why did you run away Emory? You are mine, forever!" All six figures echoed the accusations together.
She crossed her arms across her chest in annoyance. She replied quickly, not in the least intimidated by his display, "If you stop hiding and listen to me, then we can speak like adults."
She grinned mischievously, the gesture lighting her face. "And I promise not to throw anything else at you for the time being."
A flare of pride rose up in him before he could stamp it down again. She was still just as fierce and fey-like as before, the original qualities that had drawn him to her so long ago. That didn't matter anymore. He couldn't let anyone in, especially not this deceitful bitch. Asgard depended on him being strong now.
He gave his best courtier's smile, and with an elegant wave of the arm conjured a table and two chairs, perfect for hard negotiation. Like the gentleman he was, Loki allowed Emory to seat herself before taking his own. She started in before he had time to draw breath.
"Why are you here Loki? You came to me, you started this argument, you've pestered me in my dreams for months. Why decide to come back into my life now?"
He countered with another question. "Why didn't you tell me about Cara?" She stared at him in disbelief, an act probably.
Finally she replied, "Are you kidding me? Use your common sense, as hard as that might be. Before you began entering my dreams, before you rescued me in Russia, I had absolutely no idea you were alive. You….Were….Dead."
This time it was he who stared. How had she not known? Surely he remembered coming to her, after his reappearance in Asgard following the invasion fiasco. But then, all of that was so foggy. "Didn't you see me, after I was imprisoned at Asgard?"
Pain crossed her face before she answered. "No… Odin decided I was not trustworthy enough to remain in Asgard while you were imprisoned there. I was banished to Vanaheim, no longer welcome." She turned her face away, a defense method she used to hide her feelings. "I didn't mind so much at the time, seeing as you tried to kill your brother, despite my warnings and misgivings, and then died, and apparently didn't die, and then tried to invade Earth!"
The palm of her hand slapped down onto the table, small cracks spreading out around her slender fingers. "In your mad quest for power, it never occured to you to let your grieving widow know that you were alive?! Do you know how I found out?"
It was a rhetorical question, he knew that, but he still gave a small shake of his head, trying to sputter out a response. "I found out when Odin imprisoned me in my rooms, while Thor went down to Midgard to fetch you back! I was treated like a criminal because I was your wife. At least while you were dead I was a respected widow of the royal family."
A spasm of pain flashed through Loki's chest as he realized that he was not the only one that suffered from his choices. I did this to her. I made her so bitter, so fragile. What have I done? "Emory, I-"
She interrupted quickly, "I wasn't finished yet!"
She took a deep breath, and then another before continuing, "Once you were brought back, I was sent to Vanaheim in shame. I was not able to speak to you, to see you. Thor was kind enough to let me know you were well, physically at least."
Another deep breath. "I wasn't able to be there when Frigga…." Her voice faltered, and she took a moment, not speaking, just staring at the cracks on the table that she had made in her anger. Finally, she spoke again. "I wandered Vanaheim, never settling in any one place. Eventually, I was taken in by a group of my grandmother's priestesses, and initiated into her order. I became a priestess in her name, imbued with her gifts."
Realization dawned on him. This explained her sudden increase in power, why he was now struggling to hold back attacks that before were like so many insects flitting about.
She continued, "It was there Thor found me, and told me about the elves. He told me how you redeemed yourself, and then died protecting him." Her smooth voice grew thick with pent up emotion, and he could tell she was close to tears.
He moved to go to her, to hold her, and was quickly rebuffed.
"Don't touch me!" A hand came up in warning as she looked away. "I can't...not now." Tears flowed freely down her face now, and Loki felt his icy heart breaking under the guilt of her pain. This was his fault.
"You were dead once again. Gone, forever this time I thought. Thor saw you die, we were sure." She laughed, a humorless sound that only expressed her disdain. "I should have known better, should have realized it was another one of your tricks."
Blazing eyes met his, holding him immobilized, piercing through his soul. Emory spoke once more, her voice now cold and dispassionate. "I was a fool. This time, I grieved you, and what we could have had. I was welcomed back to Asgard, but I declined. The Allfather is fickle, and I was so very tired. I was so exhausted, and so I came to Midgard instead."
She stood, the lengthening shadows of their nameless world falling on her, shading her face in darkness. Loki realized the truth then.
His wife, the woman his father arranged as his companion, wasn't the fool. He was. He had had so much in her, and he threw it away in a try for power. Power he now had as king, and yet, would throw away in a heartbeat to gain her affection back.
"Emory….I," he paused. What could he really say? "I'm sorry. Please...forgive me. Please come home, let our daughter have a father. She deserves her birthright!"
Puzzled eyes looked back at him, questions rising to the surface. "Birthright? Her only birthright is as a descendent of Freyja, most likely a future priestess. What could you possibly offer her, as a liar and a trickster?"
Anger flared up within him, anger that he quickly extinguished. He deserved her scorn. Her insults. But he also deserved to know their daughter. And Cara deserved a life in Asgard, as a princess and eventual queen.
"Emory, my father has permanently fallen into the Odinsleep, and he named me his successor. I'm the king of Asgard, and Cara is my heir."
The priestess, the sorceress, his wife, stared at him in quiet shock. Suddenly she began laughing, not humorless as before, but almost maniacal, going on and on until she lay on the ground before Loki gasping, taking small breaths as he looked on in confusion. Once she had finally composed herself, raising her lithe body off the ground and wiping tears from her beautiful face, she spoke, a new humor in her voice.
"What you tell me now, that you are King of Asgard, do you realize that all this time that's all you have ever wanted? Not me, not children, not love. You wanted a throne." Her face twisted in anger. "How in the Nine Hells did you actually do it?"
She started chuckling again, wrapping her arms around herself. "All this time, all this pain, and you still got what you wanted. But do you even care? What all have you lost in the process?"
With that, she stepped through to Midgard, gone. He stared at the spot where she stood just moments before, and felt himself sink to his knees. What had he done? What had he thrown away?
He allowed himself to weep for what he lost. How would she forgive him after this? He didn't deserve to be forgiven, certainly. He allowed the pain to wash over him, the deep blackness of unconsciousness pulling him down.
He awoke later to a crackling fire and Thor beside him. Loki lifted his head slightly before letting it fall back down to the ground. "She's gone brother. I've lost her. I've lost her, and I cannot get her back, and I certainly do not deserve her. Why go on from here?"
The king felt his brother stand. "Get up Loki. This is not over."
Loki sneered, drowning in self-pity. "Of course it is. What use is being king, having this power, this responsibility, if she will only see me as a monster, the monster that crushed her?"
"Then we must change how she sees you. Do not give up yet brother. Now get up." Loki lifted his head once more to see Thor's hand reaching down for him. Gratefully, he took it, lifting himself to his feet. He would trust his brother, and he would get his wife, and his daughter, back.
"What do I need to do?"
No one said a word when Emory materialized in the living room, or when she scooped up Cara and made straight for her suite. The thunderhead that was her face ensured that. She was angry, no doubt about it.
The anger even reflected in her familiars, who now stalked through the tower in a quiet rage, tails twitching back and forth in irritation at the slightest provocation. Day after day, the Avengers tiptoed past her door, waiting for the storm to calm, waiting for her to come back out and explain what was happening.
Thor disappeared without explanation shortly after she returned, and Emory wasn't speaking to anyone, so the team was fairly in the dark. Natasha had some ideas, but without more information, nothing was concrete.
She knew Loki was back in the picture, and that Thor was siding with his brother- Loki was innocent, and King of Asgard. The spy also knew that Emory knew the trickster god from the past, and that Loki had called her wife. She also knew that there was bad blood there, if the arguing and fights were any indication so far.
Air pushed through her nostrils in a great huff, blowing up her bangs as she vented her frustration. The redhead pushed off the couch to stride down the hallway, course set. Enough was enough. Emory had been locked in that room for four days, she needed to come out.
She steeled her shoulders before solidly pounding on the door a few times. Might as well show some backbone from the get-go. "Emory, please open the door. I'm worried."
A slight rustle sounded on the other side of the door, but no one approached. Natasha rolled her eyes. "Emory, I know you're in there. JARVIS can read your bio signature. Please come and talk to me." More rustling, and then the door cracked open enough for Natasha to catch a glimpse of the room behind her.
What she saw shocked her. Broken furniture lay haphazard everywhere, fragments of pottery scattered across the floor. Emory herself was worse. Tangled hair matted down her back, while red, puffy eyes gazed back at the other woman.
"Why should I talk to you? You don't like me very much, never trusted me."
Natasha blinked. This wasn't what she expected. "That's true, I didn't like or trust you for a long time. But I would like to think we are friends now. Besides, would you really rather talk to one of the guys?"
Emory wavered in the doorway, considering, but something in Nat's face must have convinced her because she opened the door further, swinging her arm out in invitation. She took full stock of the room then, as if for the first time. Emory gave a start at the sight, and with a blush and wave of her hand the entire suite reassembled itself, shards rising back into full pieces as though the damage never happened.
Natasha stared at her, somehow shocked by the display despite everything she had seen while with the Avengers. The smaller woman blushed again before saying, "I have a bit of a temper. That was one of the first things I learned to do." She cleared her throat, her voice dry and thick. A wry smile crossed her face. "Of course, it's been some time since I've had to use it."
The sorceress seemed more comfortable after making this admission, shoulders relaxed and head held high. She gave a more genuine smile this team, one that reached her eyes. "Please, sit down. We might be here a while."
Saying that, she herself took a seat on the comfortable loveseat. Nat returned the smile, more at ease now that the other woman was willing to finally speak to someone.
"Are you ready to tell me what's going on? You are obviously upset about something, or were at least, if this room is anything to go by."
Emory stared at her, pensive. "Yes….I suppose I'm as ready as I'll ever be." Her chest heaved with a large sigh, a quick exhalation, preparing herself.
"No more games or diversions. Just the truth." She looked straight at Natasha as she continued. "Loki is my husband."
The truth hit Natasha like a 9 mil slug to the gut, knocking the breath from her lungs. She has suspected, had heard him say it, but she hadn't wanted to believe it. All she could do was stare speechless for a moment. Emory took the silence as leave to keep going.
"I left Asgard because I could not bear to be around his memory any longer. I thought he was dead…" She looked up at the taller redhead, moisture beading at the corners of her eyes.
"I married Loki when he was still a decent man, a good brother, before his mad quest for power drove him away from me, from his family."
"It was an arranged union. Odin meddling as always." She snorted. "I was never enough for him."
Her voice broke at this, and Natasha took the gap to speak up. "Loki's wife...well that makes sense, now that I know." She shook her head and focused on her friend. "Well, he's alive, and he knows you are here. What are your plans? What do you want to do?"
Emory's eyes focused on some insignificant spot on the wall for some time as she thought. Natasha studied her as she contemplated the future. Even though the priestess was tired and looked frail, curled up with arms around knees on the couch, Nat knew her backbone was still firmly in place. She could kill Loki ten times over for all the messes he'd made. Chaos followed him wherever he roamed.
Finally, she replied. "I'm not sure what I want. I grieved him, twice. But he is still my husband." She looked up sharply, fire burning in her eyes again, illuminating the dull light that had taken over. "But I refuse to be a puppet. I refuse to go back to him, placing a quest for power before my happiness. I will not go back to a place where I am not loved or appreciated. Wanted."
Natasha nodded slowly, taking in all the facts and spinning out possibilities. "And Cara? Who is…?"
"Her father?" Emory interjected. "Loki is. I meant what I said about the blessing of the goddess. She allowed me to choose when to become pregnant, and with which of my past lovers." She looked up towards the ceiling, spilling out the last bit in a rush. "He didn't actually need to be there even though he's the father."
The spy started laughing at the jumbled mess coming from Emory's normally cool and poised mouth. "Well that explains why he was so pissed. I hear men like to be there for that kind of thing."
A giggle escaped her friend's lips, and before long they were cackling like fools, tears streaming down both women's faces.
Once they composed themselves somewhat, Nat turned back to the conversation. "So you don't want to go back to a loveless marriage, and that's understandable. But what if he does love you?"
Emory made a very unladylike sound deep in her throat. "I highly doubt that. He's simply trying to recover his ego. He has what he wants now. He's King of Asgard." She smiled sadly before going on, "He does not need nor want me. He just doesn't like to lose. It's all a game to him."
Natasha moved closer to her, taking a small hand in hers. She realized with a shock that this might be the first time she voluntarily touched her.
"And what about Cara? She deserves to know her father."
A cloud of guilt passed over the sorceress's face. "I know. She will know her father, and her birthright as heir to the throne of Asgard. I cannot be selfish with her future." Nat squeezed her hand reassuringly, proud of the woman. She may not like her very much, but she damn well respected her.
"How about we go see everyone else and explain what's going on. They've had time to adjust to Loki's innocence, so the backlash won't be awful. Maybe they will have some feedback."
Emory nodded slowly, before standing and walking to the door. She paused briefly, looking back, blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Whether they were gratitude or pain was hard to discern.
"Thank you Natasha. Really."
Wow so, I know this is old content to my OG readers, for which I'm sorry, but I did tweak the plot because I need to draw out the Loki/Emory angst. This is a slow burn, sorry guys! I need some feedback as well….Do we want a mature rating for this? For you know…..hot and heavy scenes? Or do you guys want to keep this PG 13 ish? I need feedback to know! You guys know I love constructive criticism and suggestions for future plot.
Anyways,
XOXO M