In Love With The Darkness
Eira emerged from her chambers, draped in the same icy-coloured cloak she had worn the day Loki had told her she was his wife. The folds were so warm and deep, she didn't need gloves, and the faux fur lining of her boots ensured she was well-insulated from the cold.
Loki awaited her, on the terrace, and offered his arm. "Where are you taking me?" she asked, pulling up her hood against the cold.
"Somewhere I go often to think, when I wish for solitude," he replied, leading her away from the palace, and into the pine woods thronging the mountainside. Eira snorted.
"You mean when you get bored of guards and sycophantic slaves?" she asked, sarcastically. To her slight surprise, he glanced at her, in confusion, and she remembered again her own puzzlement when he'd told her about the trade dispute. What was it she didn't know? Why was Anna so loyal to Loki, and yet so obviously in full control of herself?
What had the Resistance not told her, or…did they not know?
Beneath the sting of betrayal at her capture, Eira didn't know who to trust anymore. Except possibly Peregrine. But he was far away, and she hoped, it would stay that way. She didn't want to think about her oldest and dearest friend putting himself in danger for her.
They fell into silence as Loki led her out of the palace, and down a small track that led up into the mountains. She could hear the thunder of the falls drawing closer, as the incline steepened and the muscles of her thighs began to burn with the strain.
She stumbled, and Loki's hand closed around hers, tight and supportive, as she fought to catch her breath. "Forgive me, Eira," he breathed. "I had forgotten you are still recovering from your illness. I know a quicker way, if you would permit it?"
"Do I have a choice?" she muttered, unsettled as Loki chuckled and transferred his grip from her hand to her waist, pulling her against him. Eira's breath hitched and she grit her teeth behind her lips, some part of her hating the way her body responded to him, but it was a part that was growing ever weaker.
Attuned as she now was, Eira felt the rush of magic building up in Loki, before her vision went blind and her every cell felt like it was being squeezed and compressed. All of her senses were cut off, and it was only the feel of Loki's arm around her waist, the only palpable thing she could sense, that allowed her to remain calm.
The pressure ended as abruptly as it began, and Eira gasped as she opened her eyes, staring up at him, wide-eyed. "What was that?" she breathed. He smiled an unholy grin, and released her, taking a step away.
"Trans-locational physical displacement, or as some would call it, teleportation. I have been developing the technique for some years," he explained. "It only works when I know the location to which I am travelling, but otherwise it is useful in going between the Capital and here without detection."
"You couldn't do that before," Eira murmured, words once again slipping from her mouth before she even thought them, but this time she didn't falter, just watched him as he tensed, his leather-clad back to her.
"Seven hundred years is ample time for practicing such feats," he replied softly, before turning and holding out his hand to her. Eira warily took it, and for the first time noticed where they were.
They were stood atop a rocky peak, looking down on the valley where the palace stood, but Eira could see farther, to the South and the rocky mountain ranges beyond, levelling out onto a misty plain that was blurred to her vision. The sun shone, but a fierce Northern wind nipped at the hem of her cloak, and she was suddenly glad for its warmth.
They stared out at the beauty of the landscape stretching out below them for awhile, Eira entranced by the subdued greys and greens of the mountains and valleys, graceful and wild, untamed, her heart seemingly pounding in time with the gusts of wind that ruffled her cloak and Loki's robes. His hand was tight around hers.
"Tell me, Eira," he abruptly broke the peaceful silence. "What does the Resistance plan to do after I am defeated?"
Eira spun to face him, eyes narrowed as her mind whirled. "Why do you want to know? Is the great tyrant considering defeat?" she scoffed. He smirked and shook his head.
"It is merely a hypothetical question. Humour me," he murmured coolly, and she rolled her eyes.
"Set the people free from whatever dark magic you use to enslave them. Give the Earth back to them, and-" Eira trailed off, suddenly uncertain. What exactly were they going to do? She wasn't exactly in Hall's inner circle. She had no idea what the plan was for governing the Earth after Loki's defeat.
Loki looked away from her, and she breathed a sigh of relief to be free of his piercing gaze. "I have ruled this world for seven hundred years, Eira," he murmured, and she found herself listening intently. "I have made this world belong to me. Look back into human history and see what happens when a regime falls apart, particularly one which has ruled for so very long. Instability, chaos, suffering. You saw for yourself the condition of the people; they are not ill-treated or neglected which is more than I could say for the way I found them when I first came to this planet As I believe mortals say, better the devil you know. Is my rule really so abhorrent, so evil?"
"You killed and tortured thousands of innocent people in your rise to power. You rule with fear and repression. You show no mercy to anyone who fights against you," Eira spat, stunned and sickened by his little speech. She turned her back to him, folding her arms and letting her anger make her strong. "You are cruel and pitiless. You know nothing of compassion, or mercy."
"Don't I?" he breathed, and she flinched when she realised how close he stood to her, his torso pressed against her back, as she stared blindly out over the landscape. "This is my kingdom, my people, Eira. All that I have done was done to protect that fact; and the Resistance has killed plenty in their vendetta against me. What of the men and women they have killed in their battles with me? You say I know nothing of compassion; perhaps that is true. The Aesir are not known for their gentleness, Eira, as you will one day remember. But you can teach me."
Eira fought weakly when she felt his arms slide around her waist, pulling her back tight against him. "Let go of me!" she hissed, but his voice, seductive, dark with temptation and promise, trickled honeyed words into her ear.
"You see our kingdom, my love. Ours. Teach me compassion; show me mercy, think of the power you will wield as my Queen, the good you will achieve. The Resistance is doomed to fail; accept your place as my Queen and help me return peace to this realm and its people. Our people, Eira."
"You would never share power with me; never let me do any good. You are a merciless tyrant, untrustworthy, without honour or goodness," she spat, forcing his arms away and rounding on him. Rage burned inside of her, and she longed for the power to end this, right now. "You've killed everyone I ever loved in this life. The only mother I ever knew. You may be the God of Lies, but don't think for a moment that I will ever fall for your trickery!"
Silence fell on that windswept mountain peak, and Eira's heart thundered with anger and adrenaline. Her magic rose, instinctive and uncontrolled, and she fought to hold it in. She was no match for him yet.
Loki's eyes burned, but his handsome face was cool, blank. "Such narrow-mindedness. I am disappointed in you Eira, if that is all you think me to be," he murmured, moving closer to her. "When you know I am more than that."
"I don't know anything anymore. There are no certainties," she whispered. He had haunted her life from its very first moments; first for her gift, and now for her apparent identity and the snatches of memory she experienced in his company. "And I have seen nothing to suggest you are otherwise."
"But you will," he murmured, firmly. "You will remember, Eira, and things will change."
Eira was so focussed on Loki, her eyes fixed on his and his on hers, their silent battle of wills, that neither noticed the sleek black raven take off from a peak above them, and fly noiselessly away.
Resistance Base 1, in the ruins of New York City, former United States of America
A darkly clad figure marched through the corridors of the base, overcoat flapping around his booted legs, the scant emergency lighting glinting off the long, graceful bow in a quiver on his back. His face was set, grim, and his eyes burned with repressed rage.
It had been nearly three weeks since Eira had been taken captive. He knew she wasn't ready for this, knew she would fail. He had failed her, failed his promise to Jaina to keep her safe.
And now Eira had been proclaimed Loki's Queen and was probably enslaved to that tyrant's every whim. He shuddered at the thought of what Loki might do to her, while under his spell. Eira was strong, powerful, but no one could resist the King's magic.
Peregrine loved Eira. Not the way he had loved Jaina for too short a time, but as a daughter and a confidant. He saw much of the girl's adoptive mother in her, imprinted on her in a way no DNA could replicate, and he had promised Jaina he would keep Eira safe.
He would get her back. No matter what Hall said, no matter how many times he said no, that was too great a risk and that Eira was lost, he would save her. Or die trying.
He had good men, men loyal to him who would follow him. It would take time, and meticulous planning but they would travel to Norway and set her free. If the King just happened to be killed in the crossfire, so much the better.
As he strode towards the hangar bay, he muttered to himself, like a mantra, a prayer, over and over again.
I'm coming, Eira.
Asgard
In the hall of Gladsheim, Odin All-Father sat, pensive and quiet as his single eye gazed unseeingly out from his great seat.
Things were moving on Midgard. He had put his pieces into place, and could only hope that they would move as he needed them to. For his sake, for Asgard's sake, for Loki's sake.
His son, that tiny child he had brought home to love and raise as his own, was too dangerous. He held the power of the Universe in his control, and Odin feared him. Feared his complacency would turn once more to vengeance.
That he might decide that simply intimidating and subduing the Nine Realms would not be enough, and Asgard would be his first target. The darkness inside Loki was pervasive and all-consuming.
He had waited seven hundred years for the right time. His plan could not fail. The girl could not fail.
A dark shape soared into the cavernous chamber of the hall, and cawed. Odin stretched out his hand, and the raven alighted on it, bowing its proud head.
He closed his eyes as the raven's memories and observations filtered into his mind, and a slight quirk of the lips creased his aged face.
Though never a smile. He had not smiled since the destruction of the Bifrost, and the loss of his son.
The pieces were moving. Soon, the old balance would be restored, and peace would once again rule in the Nine Realms.
A/N: Just so people know, the above does not represent my own political views and opinions, far from it. Merely an interesting ambiguity of politics, which I am fast learning doesn't possess shades of black and white, just lots and lots of grey. But it is an interesting question, isn't it? The difficulty of rebuilding an entire world after such an entrenched regime as Loki's, would be enormous, and as such Eira could potentially wield more power to change as Loki's Queen than as a rebel.
There will be more about the power dynamics of Eira and Loki's relationship in later chapter, as well as more about exactly how Loki's Earth works, and the truth behind how he controls the people. Hope you liked the little mention of both Odin and Peregrine. Both will have major parts to play soon.