Pandora's Box
Alex read Loki's letter until she had the words memorised, trying to wade through the churn of emotions inside her. It was a grand promise, but he'd made grand promises before and failed to keep them. She hated the idea of being forced to stay on Asgard until Thanos was defeated, but what choice did she have? If she could hold Loki to the promise he'd made, she might have a shot at going home eventually. A shot where he could no longer thwart her every move.
She rerolled the scroll and replaced it before climbing into bed, though she just found herself staring at the ceiling as the night ticked by.
Anger was the most prominent feeling: anger that he really couldn't bring himself to apologise to her. Anger that he was still being a selfish prick. Anger that he was trying to—no, succeeding at manipulating her. Anger that the first time he ever admitted how he felt, he did it in writing, from halfway across the universe. After everything he was too much of a coward to say it to her face. That saddened her too, the knowledge that no matter what, he'd always struggle to be open with her about how he felt. How could she ever trust him if he never truly allowed her to know what was going on inside him?
The sadness gave way to pity, that he was that way—that he'd become even worse than he'd ever been. Loki could have been a great man, and that the scared little boy she'd sometimes glimpsed had become the twisted person he was today was a tragedy. Loki didn't like himself much, she knew now, so happiness would always be beyond his reach.
Like Pandora's Box, hope was squashed under everything else, barely able to flutter her wings against the combined weight of Alex's other emotions. That didn't mean she didn't make her presence known, a gentle stirring in Alex's chest. If he meant what he'd written—and she had little reason to trust him—then she could persuade him to let her go, when the time was right. She just needed to stand firm against all the tricks he was going to throw her way when he returned. It didn't matter if she still loved him. It wouldn't matter if he finally, finally became the man she'd always convinced herself he was. She was going to make it home.
This time, in sleep, neither Fear or Loki came to visit her. Instead, she dwelled in Pandora's Box herself, buffeted by emotions and chased by sharp words in green ink.
In the absence of company, she returned to the Asgardian fairytales, taking them out to the closest garden to read during the day while a guard trailed after her. She passed two days trying to improve her slow reading of their tongue, realising she was running out of reading material, and getting bored of the repetitive stories. Thor found her on the second afternoon, bringing her a picnic hamper.
"Admit it, you're using me to escape the war council," she said as he sat down.
"It would be foolish to deny it." He didn't look like he was getting much sleep either. "There are so many issues to discuss, so many factors to weigh before making a decision. In truth, I know I'm not ready to be king yet, not when I still grow impatient with such detail." He handed her a goblet of a fizzy, fruity drink that was a definite improvement on the weird tea concoction.
"I think the trick is to pretend you find it interesting, and make sure you've got people around you who you can delegate the decision to."
"The responsibility always lies with the king. If they make a poor decision, it is still my fault."
"Then you need to choose who you rely on carefully. You seem to read people well enough."
"Apart from my brother."
"He's family. It's different." She picked at a handful of purple berries. "Can I ask you to do something?" She couldn't blame Thor for the wary look her cast her. "It's not what you think, I promise."
"Then if it's within my power, I will."
"Could you take this to Odin?" She pulled the scroll out of the inside pocket of her hoodie. "Ask him if what Loki promises is true."
Thor gingerly took the letter from her. "Very well. I'll pass it on to my father."
Alex had briefly considered seeking Odin out herself to ask him about the spell Loki referenced, but she doubted she'd get access to him if he was locked up in war councils. Besides which, she didn't know what she would say to the king if she did see him. He'd probably expect an apology for her outburst before assisting her, and she couldn't give him one—not a sincere one. Hell, she'd probably end up repeating her tantrum. Thor as middle man would shield her from that awkwardness a while longer, and she trusted him not to read the letter.
"Thank you." She stretched out on the grass beside him, staring up at the perfectly blue sky. "Do you know if there's a library I can visit? I'm running out of reading material."
He leaned over and picked up the book she'd discarded. "You can read our tongue?"
"Loki taught me when I was little. It takes me longer to read than English, because it's so different and I'm rusty at it, but I can get by."
"I should have guessed. He gave you the gift of tongues too."
"Yeah." Loki had performed that spell soon after they'd first started going on adventures. It meant she could understand and speak any spoken language they encountered. It didn't even register to her when she was speaking in a different language. "He didn't want to take me to a realm, risk me wandering off and not being able to speak to anyone to find my way back to him."
Thor gave an amused shake of his head. "That's a rare gift, usually bestowed only on royalty or those we rely on to cultivate our knowledge of other cultures. People have to pass complicated assessments to earn it."
"Um, sorry? He never mentioned that."
"Never mind. My brother has always done what he wants."
He fell silent, his expression turning wistful. The garden they were in sat in one of the higher parts of the palace, giving it a view over most of the city. She followed his gaze to where the kaleidoscopic Bifrost cut across the water.
"Until this war is over, I'm unable to return to Midgard either," he said.
"I reckon SHIELD would be as happy with you as they are with me."
"They owe me a debt for the assistance I've provided in the past. If you decide to return, I shall travel with you, and plead your case."
"Why are you so anxious to return? Is there something you left behind?" She watched his gaze soften. "Someone. I get it." He nodded.
"I can but hope the war doesn't stretch too long. Mortal lives pass so quickly."
Thor was able to pass her a key to the royal library and archives that evening, so from then on that's where she took herself on a daily basis. The queen's dressmaker came to visit her and quickly made her several outfits consisting of tunics and legging-like breaches, which were comfier to laze around and read in. Alex even persuaded her to replicate her bra, since she refused to wear even one of the looser corsets the Asgardian women wore under their gowns.
She saw the prince, Frigga, Sif and the warriors three often for the evening meal. Sometimes they'd go for rides, just so they'd all get a change of scenery from their daily activities. Sif even commandeered her some evenings, after deciding Alex needed to learn to protect herself.
"You might not ever face an enemy in battle, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't be able to defend yourself against one."
"I appreciate the offer, but everyone on Asgard is much bigger and stronger than me. I don't doubt the same goes for Thanos and his army."
"Size and strength aren't everything. Neither are weapons."
So slowly she learned ways to turn someone's strength against them, with the goal of crippling them long enough to escape if she ever needed to. Sif even showed her how to inflict injuries with the most innocuous of objects, like twigs, glass cups, and her own nails.
"Your biggest advantage is who you are," Sif told her. "Men will look at you and decide you pose no threat, because you are a woman, and a small woman at that. Let them think that, and you will always be able to use their assumptions against them."
Alex was sure as the lessons progressed that Sif wasn't preparing her to protect herself against a nameless, faceless enemy—she was trying to ensure Alex would never be defenceless against Loki again. That point was brought home when Sif taught her how to escape a choking grip. It felt churlish to point out that Loki's best weapon was not his body, but his mind and his magic.
The library, and especially the archives, was a delight. It contained volumes from many realms, some in alphabets she couldn't decipher. There were histories, which gave more realistic accounts of the past encounters with Earth and Jotunheim, and long novels about heroic warriors going on quests in faraway lands. She discovered the truths behind the myths she'd known on Earth, as well as biographies of the notable inhabitants of Asgard, past and present. She even found, to her amusement, excruciatingly detailed erotica, including the Asgardian version of the Kama Sutra. The rooms enclosed a courtyard with benches, where she would take the treasures she found out to bask in the sunlight.
There was more here than she could have read in a mortal lifespan, but she was damned if she wasn't going to give it a go.
On one of the rare days of rain, she found herself at a secluded table among the stacks, drinking in the old-book smell and reading about the Jotun invasion of Earth. She didn't hear anyone approach the table; it was only the scrape of chair legs across the floor that alerted her someone was sitting down. She dropped the book to find herself face to face with the Allfather.
All her faculties fled for safer ground, leaving her motionless and speechless, waiting for him to begin.
"My son informed me I would find you here." She merely nodded her head in response. "I've come to return this." He dropped the scroll onto the table.
She gripped the scroll, staying mute. She wasn't angry. Yet. That was a good thing. She needed to stay calm.
"In answer to your enquiry, as far as I can determine, Loki tells the truth. His signature forms a binding contract to both parts of his vow. I am unable to find any weakness in the construction of the magic that would allow him to break the spell. That is not to say there may not be loopholes or clauses I cannot see. Loki made this spell, so he holds the advantage. What it comes down to is, do you trust him?"
It didn't take her long to decide. "No."
"Very well. I can arrange, when he returns, for a contract of my own creation to be drawn up with the same terms. That will ensure the terms are ironclad, even for him. Do you agree with them?"
"I think so."
He was so difficult to read. It was hard to remember, when he was sat here without his finery, speaking to her so quietly, that he wasn't just an old man in a library. It was only that one eye, sharp and shrewd, that reminded her who she was dealing with. He was staring not at her, but through her, weighing up the pieces of her to determine her worth. He'd done it before and the outcome hadn't been in her favour.
"You realise," he said, "the reason you failed your test was not because you were at an unfair disadvantage." She shrank back, worried at how easily he'd discerned her thoughts. "You proved yourself capable of overcoming your limitations; it was because you were too trusting. It's a harsh lesson to learn, but while you afforded Loki the blind faith you did, you would never have survived his world. It's true that I intended to use Loki to mend the rift behind Asgard and Jotunheim, but it wasn't solely for my benefit that I ensured you failed that test. Your marriage to Loki would have ended in disaster, and you'd have been the one to suffer most of all. He held all the power and relationships built on such imbalances do not stand the test of time."
She let the explanation sink in. It was a conclusion she'd come to herself—she'd said as much to Frigga when they first met—and it helped to know that Odin hadn't just decided she wasn't fit for his son.
"The same can be said about my decision to keep you here in line with Loki's demands. It's not just for Asgard's benefit. It's not even just for your safety. It's because I know my son well enough that he would follow you back to Midgard the first chance he had. He'd be doomed to repeat mistakes he's already made and then make fresh ones, and the person who would suffer for that would be you again. If my son is to grow—if he is to find love, should that be his fate—he needs to be prevented from pushing you away for good."
"Frigga once told me there was a reason for everything you did."
"No one does things without a reason. I merely have more foresight than most, and the benefit of centuries of experience to assist me in making my choices. I'm not infallible. Even your Midgardian myths say so."
"I do have a question…" He inclined his head to tell her to continue. "How was he? When I lost the test?"
She expected Odin to say Loki had remained his stoic self, given how Thor and Frigga hadn't seen any change in him after she was sent back to Earth. "He wept."
"He what?" she asked, the words carried on a gasp.
"He wept, like I haven't seen him do since he was a boy. He hid it well, but it wasn't something he was able to hide from me. He didn't try to beg or bargain for your return, as I expected him to. Instead, he shed tears, and when those dried up, he became a colder man entirely."
They sat in quiet for a few moments, while she contemplated his answer. She'd never seen Loki cry; she couldn't even build a convincing mental image of him doing so. He'd had nothing to gain from it, either—he'd let her go and hadn't used his sorrow to try to change Odin's mind.
She tucked the scroll into the pocket that had been sewn into her tunic. "Surely you didn't just come to give me this. Thor seems happy to play messenger."
"No, I do have another purpose. Do you know who Heimdall is?"
"The gatekeeper? Yes."
"He has been searching for Loki and Thanos, but they are both shrouded in darkness."
"Isn't he supposed to be able to see everyone?"
"Yes. However, Loki did learn to shield himself from Heimdall when he was planning schemes with the Jotuns. I am wary of not being able to see him. There is something I need to do to ease my worries, and your presence is required."
"Mine—really?"
He didn't answer but rose and walked away, gesturing for her to follow. He led her from the library, across the palace and down, down endless staircases until the only light came from torches on the walls. "The queen and prince will meet us there."
She didn't ask where. She was worried, the deeper they went, that the answer would be the dungeons. Had Odin decided to lock her up properly? She'd have turned to run, except wherever she hid they'd find her. Besides, if he was going to throw her in the dungeons he wouldn't do it himself—he'd get the palace guards to drag her away.
When she didn't respond, Odin kept talking. "You've made quite an impression on my family in your short time here. I know the queen will be sad to see you leave, if that is your decision in the end. Thor too."
"I'll miss them too." What else was there to say? She expected Frigga's enthusiasm for her stemmed from the same place Thor's did—the desire to see Loki happy.
The final staircase led onto a corridor carved from black marble, and as Odin had said, Frigga and Thor waited for them outside a set of huge iron doors, the first Alex had seen in the palace that looked more functional than decorative. Odin held his hand out before him and they swung inward, revealing a room bathed in light. He stepped inside, gesturing them to follow.
"Where are we?" Alex whispered to Thor.
"The weapons vault."
It still made no sense to her. The room wasn't evenly shaped, with alcoves cut into the walls and narrow passageways leading away. The central hall they'd arrived in featured a walkway beside a pool, leading to a podium. A blue box sat on the podium, casting shifting cobalt shadows on the walls. Odin led them away, perpendicular to the strange object.
The goosebumps should have warned her. They rounded a bend in the walkway and she was on her knees, retching as the oily presence of the Tesseract crawled inside her. It was everywhere—on her skin, in her veins, in her belly, and worst of all, serpents in her head, trying to wind their way even further inside.
She was dragged backwards by strong hands, blessfully away from its presence. She opened her eyes to glimpse it, locked in a glass cage against one wall, the sceptre on a stand below, before they turned the corner back into the main hall.
"What was that?" Thor yelled in Odin's direction, while Frigga knelt and fussed beside Alex.
"We needed to know we still had the real Tesseract," Odin replied calmly.
"And there was no other way?"
"None as simple. She reacted to the cube, which proves Loki has truly only taken the copy we made. There are no lasting effects to the girl and we have our answer."
Odin left without another word, leaving Thor to help her up the many, many stairs back to the main level of the palace.
Thor stayed with her the rest of the day, accompanying her on horseback out of the palace. She had the need to put as much distance between herself and the Tesseract as she could.
"I thought it would be fade," she said. "But it's getting worse. I didn't have any contact with it at all this time."
Thor's worried expression didn't help. "My father had no right to use you in such a way. At the least, you should have no cause to visit the weapons vault again."
"You'd have to knock me out first. I'm not going down there willingly again."
They'd ventured in the direction of the Bifrost, the closest they'd come to it since the day Alex arrived. Thor was staring wistfully out at it again.
"Are they ever going to try and rebuild the bridge?" she asked.
"There were plans to, but they've been put on hold while the war looms. Our best engineers' skills are required elsewhere for the time being."
"I suppose it makes an invasion that much harder."
"That it does."
Somewhere near the end of the bridge, there came a flash of gold. Thor straightened in the saddle, peering in that direction. Thor's eyesight was obviously keener than hers, because all she could see was tiny ants; he turned his horse around. "Come," he said, alarmed. "That was Heimdall's signal." With a kick of his heels his horse was galloping away; she had no choice except to follow him.
By the time they reached the spot where she'd first arrived, a group of guards were clustered around something on the ground. Thor had jumped down from his stallion but Alex stayed put, waiting for a gap in the scrum to see what was happening.
At first she only glimpsed blue and red; it became easier to see when Thor pushed the guards aside and lifted the figure into his arms. Blue skin, the tattered remains of black clothing, and blood dripping from ferocious wounds onto the surface of the bridge.
Loki had returned to Asgard.
I think this takes us over the 50,000 word count-not bad for a story that was meant to be 10k at most *facepalm*.
Reviewers get teasers :).