Tilly was remorseful and Cynara forgave her; by the afternoon things were much better. Nira was alert enough to chirp and coo back at her grandmother who was thrilled. It didn't take long for Tilly's cell phone to fill up with photos and video, all of them centered on the baby of course.
Later, when Nira became fussy though, it was Loki who carried her off, humming to her and strolling out onto the porch where Phil Coulson was finishing a phone call. He pocketed his cell and looked at Nira, a small smile on his face. The baby blinked and debated on whether to cry or not.
"You're good with her," Phil observed quietly.
Loki nodded. "You sound surprised."
"You're not exactly the poster boy for a nurturing attitude," the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent pointed out quietly. Loki gave a wry smile, well-aware of the tension that would probably continue to exist between them despite everything.
"Call it a hidden aspect of my personality," he offered, and kissed Nira's forehead.
Phil shifted his gaze from the baby to the yard, which looked like a Viking cemetery now. "We're arranging for all those to be moved."
"Ah. Then I would suggest keeping them in a secure location," Loki replied, lifting his gaze from Nira. He saw the other man's eyes narrow and his shoulders tense.
"Because . . . ?" came the quiet little question, hanging in the air.
"Be-cause they hold more than just the messages carved upon them," Loki replied carefully. "A fact that should concern us all. I have sought out as many as I could in the time I had, and even then have not collected them all. I would have told Director Fury sooner, but events of the last few days have rather had my attention."
Phil looked back at the stones and then at Loki, his expression shifting from pleasantly blank to flinty. "Maybe now would be a good time to explain; I'm sure Doctor Finkle and Cynara can spare your babysitting skills for a while."
Loki sighed and shifted Nira, who was beginning to drift off to sleep to the crook of his shoulder. "Very well, but we shall probably need my wife in on this discussion since she will be able to clarify the runes."
Within twenty minutes a small group consisting of Loki, Cynara, and Phil Coulson were standing next to the nearest stone as thunderclouds built up on the horizon of the prairie. The breeze made Phil's tie flutter and a scent of rain was in the air. "Fury will be here before nightfall, but we can get started right now. What makes these stones dangerous?"
"Dangerous?" Cynara asked, looking from one man to the other. "The only way these could be dangerous is if one fell on you."
"Your husband sent them to you for a reason," Phil interjected, "one we're just finding out about now, apparently." He didn't raise his voice but the exasperation came through loud and clear. Cynara turned her gaze to Loki, who in turn looked at the distant clouds. Since leather and armor wasn't practical, he'd taken to wearing a green sweater and jeans; with his long hair he looked more like an artist than a god.
"Wife, when you examined the stones, what did you find?" Loki asked, absently.
"Runes," came her exasperated response. "Elder and younger Futhark mostly, ranging from the sixth century to the ninth, most of them put up as monuments to personal . . . achievements."
"And the carvings were on one face of the stone?" Loki continued, his gaze still on the clouds.
"Well yes, you can see that they are . . . . ohhhhhh," Cynara muttered, remembering the Torden Stein. "Shit. The backs. They've got those Pictish rings, don't they?" Turning to Phil she sighed. "This is going to get complicated."
"So explain. I'm a good listener and we've got time," he replied firmly.
She tried, leading Phil around the far side of the nearest stone and pointing to a set of rings slightly obscured by moss. "Okay, originally the stones were raised by explorers and important figures throughout early Scandinavian culture and they've been documented as such, but there's been a controversy about certain stones because they've also got these Pictish carvings on the back. Most archeologists feel that the majority of these stones had been cut and placed by the earlier culture—that of the Picts—and er, embellished by later cultures much the way a graffiti artist tags a work that's already in place."
"Okay, so the stones have been touched by two different cultures; what makes them a threat?" Phil asked, reaching out to touch the design. Cynara caught his hand before he did, and pulled it back.
"Because those Pictish symbols turn the stone they're on into a portal, Phil. A doorway to another planet. Yes I know it sounds unbelievable, but the creature who kidnapped me came from one of those planets."
Phil looked at the stone for a long moment. "Stargate," he finally murmured. "With rocks. That's what you're saying, right?"
"She waved at the collection across the grassy plain. "Well maybe more like Monsters Inc."
"Stone doors to other worlds," Loki agreed, finally turning his gaze from the approaching thunderstorm. "Not every stone on Midgard is a doorway, but these are. I know a few of them do function; the others I have not tried."
Phil sighed, looking at the eight stones standing in haphazard order. "Terrific. So any one of these could suddenly swing open and admit an invading army from elsewhere?"
Loki cocked his head. "Possibly, although they are small, and the three that I have travelled through lead to empty worlds. It is likely that the creators are long-dead and have left their tunnels and doors untouched for centuries."
"Secure location it is," Phil pulled out his cell phone, shooting Loki a long-suffering look. "The bigger question is why?"
In the distance a long fork of lightning stabbed the horizon, and thunder rumbled over the prairie. Loki took in a deep breath. "Simply put, I have reason to protect Midgard now; a claim on this planet that I did not have before. While I cannot guard it from every evil that might come this way, I can make sure that the ancient portals are accounted for and watched."
Cynara moved closer to him and slipped her hand in his. Phil dialed a number and began to walk back to the compound, leaving them amid the stones in the face of the oncoming storm. When he was out of earshot she turned to face Loki, locking eyes with him. "How many are unaccounted for?"
"Two," came the reluctant answer. "I have been to the sites and the stones are not there anymore."
"Could someone have taken them?"
"It is possible, yes. They are not large, and located along the leys of your world," Loki replied. "Whether those who took them know of their hidden powers, though, I cannot say."
"Good point," Cynara sighed. "Collectors, archeologists, treasure hunters—there are lots of folks who'd be interested in rune stones. I guess this means hitting the databases and passing along word to those in the know. In the meantime, what do we do with the ones we have?"
Loki brightened. "Step through them, of course."
Cynara shot him a dry look. "You and what army, Husband? Certainly S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't going to give up jurisdiction over them now that they're on the property, and I don't think they're going to just let you go . . . oh damn," she murmured as her thoughts caught up with her words. "They just might."
Loki flashed her a quick, confident smile. "Yes, they very well might. I am . . . expendable, and my offering to go through would do much to make amends for the past. I have no love for your one-eyed king or his minions, but I am willing to tolerate their company in exchange for their protection of you and Nira."
The rain finally started, falling in fat icy drops, and Cynara shuddered, moving back towards the base in a useless attempt to outrace getting wet. Loki followed her and they made it up the stone porch steps before the downfall strengthened. As they huddled together, he reached to cup her chin and this time his smile was for her alone. "I remember the last time you and I were on this threshold alone," Loki whispered. "A night of stars and promises."
She did too, and blushed. "Yes," Cynara murmured, trying not to smirk. "I remember too."
"Good," came Loki's murmur and he slipped his arms around her, kissing her temple. "Come, you are cold and Nira grows hungry." As if on cue the baby's thready wail carried over the rain, breaking the little spell of the moment and making both of them sigh. Cynara ran a hand through her damp hair, feeling by turns exasperated and worried.
"You sent them here; didn't you think about how dangerous that was?"
"My brother was here, as were your guards. Too, this part of Midgard is far from the cities," Loki pointed out as he followed her inside. "Any threat coming through would be caught before they could do much. It was a risk, but better that then having Midgard's forces scattered and divided."
"So you say," Cynara muttered, but deep inside she sensed Loki's reasoning would meet Fury's approval. She took Nira and headed to the bedroom, soothing her red-faced little daughter and feeling her breasts ache. Once she'd settled in and let Nira begin to nurse, Cynara relaxed, gently stroking the baby's cheek with her free hand. This was the best part, she decided, this fundamental connection to this impatient, amazing little person. A thought struck her, one so quick and painful that the pang of it made her bite her lip and she looked up, blinking away tears.
Later, in the darkness she slipped her arms around Loki and asked him quietly, her words a ticklish whisper against his ear. "You truly are afraid for us, aren't you, Husband? You are worried that Earth isn't safe enough."
Loki said nothing, but he pulled her close and kissed her; softly at first and then with more desperation, his lips moving over her face. She let him, feeling an ache build between her hips, an unreasonable hunger since there was no possibility of doing anything to quell it at the moment.
"I cannot lose you. Either of you," Loki whispered against her skin. "You and Nira . . . are all I have in this world and the eight others. You love me just as I am and not because of destiny. I . . . need you."