Adventures in further realms
The elves usually wield scythe-like blades, though much smaller than the agricultural tool. No one is sure why their weapons take this shape, since they have no agriculture of their own, but the most popular theory is that the blades allow for a clean motion during decapitation of either prey or an enemy. They also carry axes, which serve a more functional purpose.
Alex was deep into a history of Dokkalfarheim on the chair beside Loki's bed. He was mostly asleep whenever she returned to visit him, so she planned ahead and brought some reading material from the library. There wasn't any official process for checking the books out, and a complete lack of a librarian, but that didn't make her feel any less guilty for just waltzing away with them. She tried to convince herself that so long as she took good care of them, she was sound, yet still ended up stowing them away surreptitiously in her deep pockets.
Dokkalfarheim had never been catalogued in Norse mythology despite the Asgardians knowing it well. It was the home of the dark elves, full of volcanic mountain ranges, forests of ash-blasted trees and deep, black lakes. The elves lived in caves formed by tubes of cooled lava and rarely came out of them. They didn't sound like the friendliest of races.
Cool fingers wrapped around her wrist and she froze, glancing over the top of the book. Loki was watching her.
"I was wondering when you would realise I was awake," he said, letting her pull her arm away. "Then I grew bored of waiting."
She managed an uneasy smile and set the book down on the edge of the bed. "Sorry—it's interesting."
Even just a few days of Eir's care had done him the world of good. The sheets now covered him to the chest, with the bandages completely removed from his upper torso and arms. Only scars remained, some an aged silver and some a raw pink, fading with every hour. Frigga had cut his hair to make it easier to care for him, and it was now the length it had been when Alex lost her memories. Chin-length, silky, yet not slicked back. She'd always preferred his hair a little messy. The circles beneath his eyes had vanished, the lines on his forehead smoothed out, so he looked years younger.
He picked up the book and frowned at the cover. "'A chronicle of the further realms'?"
"I got fed up of reading about heroic Asgardians smiting their enemies."
"Aesir."
"Excuse you?"
"Aesir, not Asgardian. Did I never teach you that? I suppose not." He held the book back out to her. "Read to me?"
She reached for the book gingerly, and he tilted it at the last moment so their fingers grazed against each other. His eyes held no guile, and the contact seemed to give him a small amount of satisfaction. She shot him a warning look. "Why?"
"Knowledge nourishes my soul. It's tiresome being confined to this bed, yet I wouldn't be able to hold the book for long."
"If that's what you want." She flipped back to the beginning of the book and began again.
She doubted anything in the book was new to him, and whenever she glanced in his direction he didn't seem to be paying much attention to the words. Instead, his eyes would be half-closed while he stared at the scars on the back of his hand, or his unfocused gaze would be resting on her lips. Sometimes she'd find his fingers had crept closer to the free hand she left curled on the bed, keeping them only a hair's-breadth apart. She didn't bother shifting away. It seemed childish to keep moving away from him.
Only when the sun set did Alex leave, placing the book on the table beside Loki's bed without waiting to be asked to return.
It took her three days to get back to the part of the book she'd been interrupted at.
"'Dokkalfarheim has been seldom visited by outsiders, hostile as the dark elves are, as hostile as the landscape they dwell in.'" A black and white render filled the page opposite the text, of spindly cloaked figures grouped around a campfire. "'Precious few have returned to document what they found.'"
She paused to take a gulp of water from the carafe. Loki tracked her movements, as he always did.
"Do you not feel honoured that you are one of those precious few?" he asked.
"Hmm?"
"We have been to Dokkalfarheim. More than once, in fact."
"Really? I don't remember."
His lips slipped into the smallest of pouts. "I doubt the dark elves would be pleased to hear you say that, not when I took you to the jewel of their home, the Bjort Plateau."
"Was it as dark and gloomy as the book is making out?"
"Not at all. It's a beautiful place with a view of the surrounding fire-mounts; it receives the most sunlight and therefore has an abundance of plantlife. It was lush with greenery every time we went, not that the flora was the reason for our visit."
"So why were we there?"
"To collect rock from beneath the plateau's surface. It contained a kind of crystal formed from magma which could only be found in that place."
"Wait…I think I do remember. You found some chunks of the rock that wasn't good enough for what you needed, but I didn't want to leave it because it twinkled. You turned it into glitter for me."
She couldn't have been older than five at the time; they'd stood high above the world with warm sunlight on her face. The land below was carpeted in a forest the colour of bone and lichen, and the ground she'd stood on was slick black rock. Her feet were bare, buried in a pile of sand-like glitter, and she'd happily decorated the plateau with it, pushing piles around to make crude shapes while Loki searched for whatever he was after. When he returned, smiling with success, he'd whipped up a mini storm so the glitter whirled around her, rising above her head until it fell in gusts from his fingertips. All the while, she'd shrieked with delight, and begged him to do it again for days afterwards.
"The second time did not end so well." He pointed to where the book rested on the bed, at the open page and a new rendering. The faces of the spindly creatures were clearer in this one, sharp white features and bead-like eyes over needlepoint teeth.
"Christ, that was terrifying," she said, the memory surfacing at the sight. "Was this on the plateau as well?"
"At the far end, in the shadow of the mountain. It gave them cover to approach us without alerting me—"
"—and by the time you realised, they had us pinned against the mountainside." Loki had fought tooth and dagger but the elves circled around them, waiting for him to run out of blades.
"They weren't happy I was attempting to take some of their natural resources. I must admit I feared us doomed, but even the simplest magic made them pause."
"It wasn't the magic." She'd had an axe held to her throat and Loki had spun up the dust around them, shining like thousands of tiny blades. That wasn't what had made the elves back away: it was the way Loki's skin had coloured blue and his eyes blazed red. "It was the first time I saw you in your Jotun form."
After she said the words, she looked away so he had the privacy to experience whatever emotions he wanted to at that revelation. She expected anger—probably propped up by self-loathing—but instead his first words were speculative.
"I heard Thor's theory when you spoke of this on the Bifrost: that desperation at your danger made me revert to my true state."
"It's as good a theory as any."
"It didn't scare you, when you saw me like that?"
"Why would I? You were protecting me."
"And you still don't fear it, even when you know what it means?"
"No more than you scare me anyway."
The words were out before she could think them through, and she cringed away from the savage look on his face. She'd cut him and even he hadn't been quick enough to mask it. She opened her mouth to apologise, but her tongue refused to let her say the words.
"Don't," he said. "If I am to be honest, then I demand no less from you."
"It's not your frost giant side," she rushed to explain. Heavens knew his self-loathing ran deep, under the arrogant exterior. Loki would turn it on the parts of himself that couldn't be helped, rather than the things that actually needed to change, could be changed. Someday that self-hatred would burst out in a random act of cruelty...or another war.
"It's my murderous side?" he guessed.
"It's the part of you that acts with complete selfishness, no matter the consequences for other people," she clarified. "Me included."
He pursed his lips, considering her words. "There is truth to what you say; I can't deny it. Perhaps now you've met the Allfather you understand why I am the way I am."
"You can't blame everything on him. There are plenty of people with shitty fathers who grow up to do wonderful things."
He gave a derisive titter. Returning her focus to the book, she began reading again, for want of anything better to do.
"'There are some who find beauty in that bleak landscape. They praise the blasted heights of the mountain plateaus, the shade of the dying forest, or the still waters of the Black Lake. It is not truly black; it's depths are instead a luminous inky blue, like the heart of dark sapphire.'"
"And that lake?" he asked when she paused, the description stirring her memory. "Do you not remember that?"
She did.
The last time he took her to Dokkalfarheim was just before she'd graduated from university, when she'd been knee-deep in coursework and worrying how she'd get it all done. He'd promised her a weekend away from the worries, taking her to a cabin on the shores of that lake, but the view had been the farthest thing from either of their minds. He'd left her sore and aching, boneless and sated, begging him once again for more.
Alex couldn't contain the flush of her skin at the memory, the way heat pooled in her cheeks and spread from her chest down. She shut the book with a thump and sat up straight in the chair. Loki reached up to trace the edges of her blush, the pad of his thumb so light against her cheek she could might not have felt it if she'd closed her eyes.
"You can fear me, so long as you desire me still," he murmured, his pupils blown wide open, his irises swallowed by black. "After all, fear feeds desire, and given chance, I can erase the first altogether."
She stood, keeping the book clutched tight to her chest, unconvinced for a second that her knees would cooperate. "It's time for me to go."
"Think of me when you're away," he said as she walked away. "Think of Dokkalfarheim and all the realms like it. In return, I shall think of you."
The burn of his touch on her cheek stayed with her all the way to her chambers.
A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating...although it has only been a week. I spoil you :P. It was due to a combination of writer's block and computer issues. For the first time I'd run out of stockpiled chapters. However, chapter 30 is already written and waiting for beta comments, and I'm working on more chapters over the next couple of days.
In other news, tomorrow is this story's three month birthday AND it just broke the 100 review barrier. I'm so happy. I never thought it was ever going to get anything like that since people usually hate original characters.
Thanks to all the guest/anonymous reviewers. I like replying to reviews and it makes me sad that I can't respond to any of you :( but also happy that you feel moved to comment on the story. bearaveo: I didn't ignore your comment, but the website stripped out your email address so I couldn't contact you.
Reviewers get teasers. If you want one but don't have an FFnet account, you can contact me via Tumblr (check my profile) or email me (latessitore [ ] gmail).