AN: Thank you so much everyone for the reviews! I am really, really happy you guys enjoy the story. I am happy I can share! Also, thank you for adding this story to your favorites, and for following! It is always a pleasure to get those e-mails!
Here is the latest chapter! Hopefully you guys enjoy it! Sorry it is a little late, I once again got caught up in more reading than writing!
So please enjoy! Reviews are always very much appreciated and loved!
Chapter 24: Illusion
Loki had remembered panicking only a few times in his life. He had always prided himself on being more level-headed than his excitable brother and friends, and it was this prized composure that had saved them in many battles. But now, not even in the midst of a hearty war, he was starting to panic.
When his mind had finally become free of the invasive magic—when he was finally able to open his eyes without pain—he was met only with the lifeless shell of Asgard's finest healer falling into his arms. She was unmoving, and with each attempt to wake her, a fear crept into Loki's mind. Wincing in pain, the prince gave the woman another hard shake only to be disappointed once again.
But as he looked down at the goddess in his arms, he was relieved when he noticed the faint movement of her breathing. She wasn't dead—at least not yet—and that, for reasons he hated to admit, eased him greatly. Laying the limp body on the bed, Loki stood up and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. Whatever sorcery she had done had made him remember a thousand years of emotion. Whatever dangerous magic she had tried…
Blinking his green eyes a few times, the prince was suddenly aware of so much. Behind the throbbing pain of his head was a clarity he had not felt in some time. While he could still feel the sting of magic, he didn't feel miserable. Though he should feel angry at the healer for putting him through some form of mental torture, he wasn't. Behind the memories that still stung, and behind the painful emotions that were still there, was an illogical feeling that everything would be all right.
Catching his reflection in the mirror, Loki was shocked at what he saw. The man in the mirror was not the one he had seen in his memories. For all the pain he had been victim to, the images that had flashed through his mind reminded him that he had dealt pain far worse…and that made him feel very heavy.
Looking over to the unconscious healer, the prince let out a sigh. Though the magic had given him clarity, it had left heavy guilt to forge a new home where anger and despair once thrived. He wished that he could ask her to make it go away—he wished he could ask her for the easy fix he wanted—but in the back of his mind he knew that cure would have to come at his own hands.
But before he could think further, his senses erupted in pain as lights and alarms sounded through the building. Clenching his jaw, Loki hissed as the high-pitched noises flooded his already pounding head. Sending one last glance at the unmoving Asgardian, the prince cursed and left the room—only to be assaulted with even more flashing lights. Squinting his eyes, Loki became aware of a figure running towards him down the hall.
"What are you looking at, Antlers?" Tony yelled running past, "Are you going to help or not?"
Taking a moment to process everything, Loki followed the mortal through a heavy door and down some stairs. Stark was running quickly, with the pounding sounds of his shoes on metal stairs clicking along with the screaming alarms. Loki followed the mortal through twisting levels of his tower, the stomping of Stark's footsteps becoming more frantic.
"You didn't have anything to do with this, did you?" Tony asked accusingly, "If you did I swear-"
"I know not what you speak of!" Loki assured over the alarms, "I haven't left the tower!"
Finally reaching the lowest level of the tower, the two were met with the shocked look of a woman in a lab coat. Narrowing his eyes, Loki noticed that a large silver case was gripped tightly in her hands—and a wicked smile painted across features he remembered to be kind.
"Tony, Bruce was just having me move these to a better location." She explained, "Didn't he call to tell you?"
Loki could almost hear the grinding of Stark's teeth.
"Bruce called me, all right." He admitted, "To tell me you're dead."
To this, a laugh escaped from Kate's lips. It was a hearty laugh, and it was one that Loki knew well.
"I know who she is." Loki muttered angrily, "Now would be a fair time to act."
Sending a look to one of the many cameras, Loki watched as Tony activated his computerized security system. With a mechanical voice confirmation, an electronic spear erupted from the surrounding walls and sent the woman plummeting to the ground. It was the same technology the arrow-master had used on him, and it was the same technology he was told a mere mortal student had used to first subdue his brother.
Apparently, Midgardians had mastered the art of extra-terrestrial incapacitation.
Walking over towards the flinching woman, Loki watched as her image started to fade from the young scientist to the blue and white-faced elf. His platinum locks replaced the woman's short brown hair, and red and white robes had replaced her lab coat. Growling, Loki glared at the man who sent him a wicked grin though his obvious signs of pain.
"Surprised you art alive, Loki." Malekith cringed, "Not for long, of course."
Noticing that Tony had ripped the case out of Malekith's shaking hands, the prince refocused on the shape-shifter.
"Where is Thanos?" Loki spat, taking satisfaction in watching the elf squirm, "I know well you are under his command."
Instead of an answer, Loki was met only with a crazed cackle.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Malekith smirked, "Closer than you think. He's looking forward to making you suffer. Perhaps I could persuade him otherwise if I returned with the stones…"
Malekith's greedy eyes glanced towards the case that was secured tightly in Tony's hands. The thought crossed Loki's mind for a moment—for he and Stark were alone, and the mortal was clearly outmatched—but something within him wouldn't let him do it. Some shred of moral fiber was inexplicitly winning over his desire to live.
"Too bad." Malekith laughed, reading the silence as an answer, "I must say I am disappointed, Loki. Siding with the good guys? When did you become so soft?"
"I'm not with them."
"Are you so sure?" the elf questioned, "I don't think you are."
Swallowing hard, Loki clenched his jaw as he saw Malekith give him a knowing smile. Before he could challenge the man, Loki cursed as the elf's image started to fade.
"We will meet again soon." He decided, fading into a mist, "Hopefully you will have decided by then."
And as quick as the whole scene happened, it was over. In the aftermath of Malekith's dissolution, the two men were left standing in the now silent halls of Stark Towers. Looking at each other, they stood in silence for a moment and recounted the encounter. In its wake, one was left with the infinity gems…and the other was left with questions plaguing his mind. But after a few moments, the mortal finally broke the tension.
"I think it's time we had a chat."
Golden eyes looked at their reflection in the mirror with a smile laced on their owner's delicate lips. The woman reflected in it was truly stunning—a haunting black dress clinging to her small frame. In her long tresses, a few strands of golden tinsel glittered back at her, and on her face was a smile that was just as radiant. It was certainly a change from the unimpressive handmaiden she knew well.
"Lady Eir, I am so proud of you." Gna smiled, "Never before has a healer been raised to the title of Goddess."
And it was true; there were master healers on Asgard, but they were just that. Healers did not get fancy titles, and they certainly did not get to live in splendor. Healing was thought to be a menial talent—something certainly far from unique. It did not compare to warriors would could summon lightening, or women who had a talent for making others fall in love. Healing was a dirty profession, and was never title-worthy.
"Thank you, Gna" Eir smiled sincerely, "I pray I can wear the title well."
To this, the other handmaiden laughed.
"Milady, I think you already have." The other handmaiden asserted, "Raising the dead is a truly unique talent deserving of such praise."
Nodding to the other woman, Eir couldn't stop the smile from her face. Today she would be formally recognized by the King for her talents and join the names of other Gods. Asgard would finally see her as more than a lowly handmaiden, and its people would embrace her as the authority on medicine. It was this day that she would finally be recognized for her achievements with her mind and magic—shocking, considering neither was particularly praised on Asgard.
"My Lord," Gna stuttered bowing deeply, "Tis certainly a surprise!"
Casting her eyes towards the door, a deep blush found its way to Eir's face as she saw her visitor. He was in his most regal of outfits—the deep greens and golds creating beautiful patterns—and though his face remained composed, his stunning eyes betrayed him. Lowering her head in a shallow bow, the healer acknowledged her guest.
"I wish to have words with Lady Eir." Loki explained smoothly, "If you would be so kind, sweet Gna-medical business, I fear."
Nodding her head in understanding, Eir watched as the other handmaiden wished her well once more before rushing out of her chambers. Now alone with the prince, Eir could feel the heat rushing to her cheeks once more. In the mirror, she could see him approach her from behind, his strong arms pulling her into an impossibly tight embrace.
"You look stunning." He whispered, his breath hot against her neck, "It will be maddening watching other men gaze upon you tonight."
Biting her lip, golden eyes matched his green in the mirror—her heartbeat quickening under his touch. Feeling his lips dance across her neck, Eir could feel her cheeks burning brighter.
"I quite like that blush, love." He whispered further, "If only you knew my true thoughts, it would surely be deeper."
Turning around, Eir narrowed her eyes in mock anger at the grinning man before her. Though her eyes displayed a fiery defiance, the brilliance of her smile betrayed her. Letting out a sigh, the woman allowed herself to be pulled into him—the metal of his armor cold against her face.
"My lord, thank you for being here." Eir sighed, "I am so nervous."
Fingertips danced down her arms as the prince pulled away from her. This time, his mischievous features were replaced by ones warm with concern. Looking down at her hands in his, the healer could feel her anxiousness melting away. There was something about the way he looked at her, the way he spoke, that made her a little more fearless. The fear of being accepted by Asgard—the fear of not being liked—was diminished by his smile.
"Don't be." He urged, "All of Asgard will love you."
Before she could speak, he continued on.
"I have acquired a gift, if you will have it." He smiled, "Tis not much—certainly not what you deserve. But if my mother knew..."
Letting go of his hands, Eir looked on as the man pulled out a glittering necklace. It was dripping in gold, with small diamonds laced in between delicate detail. It was of the highest quality—certainly the work of master dwarves—and it was breathtakingly beautiful…too beautiful, in fact, for mere servants like her.
"Do you like it?" he asked worriedly, "If not I—"
"Tis too much." Eir insisted, "Tis not something a peasant could afford. Gna was in here just moments before, and when she sees this…"
"Then say it was from me." Loki murmured against her lips, "As a 'thank you' for saving my life."
Before she could protest further, he was behind her. A shiver ran down her body as his fingertips danced across her bare neck-his hands carefully clasping the jewelry in its place.
"When I was dying on Svartalfheim." He whispered, holding her closer, "I was burdened with a pain unbearable. I could feel it becoming harder to breathe…and I felt terrified when my world began to darken."
Eir closed her eyes as he pulled her even closer. She didn't want to be reminded of what earned her this title. She couldn't stand to think of what would have happened had she not been able to unlock her talent. As skilled a healer as she was, it was truly a miracle that Loki had been saved.
"But then I saw you." He added, "I saw the devastation in your eyes, and I could feel your tears on my face. Suddenly, I wasn't scared to die…but I was still terrified. Terrified that that I had let you down."
Eir could feel her eyes becoming wet as he continued to narrate in a whisper so low only she could hear.
"And it was you…" he hummed, "It was you that saved me—as you have done countless times before."
He was silent for a moment.
"So please, take it." He urged, "You deserve so much more, Eir. I wish I could offer you more than my affection."
Turning around, the doctor could see the sincerity in the prince's eyes as he spoke. There was something so pure about his words—but there was also something almost sad and wanting about them. It was a feeling she knew all too well.
"I need not more, Loki."
She could feel him smile against her lips.
"Then it will always be yours
Sitting up quickly, the woman let out a hiss as bright lights flashed in her eyes. Her head was spinning, no doubt an artifact of her magic, and with every beep and buzz of the room she wanted to scream. This was not her room—no. In fact, it seemed reminiscent of her time with SHIELD. The white walls and the electronics only brought back memories of experiments and torture—and she started to to sit up, she cringed as needles stung at her arms and tubes held her back.
"Brain activity seems to have returned to normal." A voice commented, "Bad dream, I presume?"
Letting out a sigh at the familiar voice, the Asgardian decided not to answer. Even if she wanted to, she had no clear answer for the Midgardian doctor she had grown to know. Such memories—such dreams—were both a treasure and a curse. As happy as they might have been, the knowledge of how the story ended added a bitter element to them. As sweet as his words had been, the knowledge that they had been nothing but lies hurt worse than any needles or tests.
"Where am I?"
"Stark's infirmary." Bruce explained quietly, "Loki brought you here after…"
His voice had started to trail off. His voice had a certain shakiness to it, as if he was not as composed as she usually had seen. The man that had come to her chambers in SHIELD so confidently looking for a cure was not the one reading over her laboratory data. Swallowing hard, the woman cringed as she watched his eyes dance over a number of abnormal blood levels.
"How long was I unconscious?" she asked nervously, her head still throbbing, "What do you know?"
"You were out for a little over eight hours. Nothing serious, over exhaustion." He explained mechanically, "But I need you to be well."
Before she could ask why, she could see the reason on the man's face. As the mortal handed her a glass of water, she noticed the bright redness of eyes that had been crying all night. On his cheeks, she could see the faint tear marks and on his lips were bitten marks that spoke volumes. He looked exhausted, far more than she had been, and when his brown eyes met hers they told a narrative she knew too well.
Grief, it seemed, was an emotion expressed universally between Asgardians and mortals. As a doctor, she had seen this face too many times in her youth. As an adult, she had seen too many faces come to her like this—begging for talents no other healer could provide. Unlike their last lengthy encounter, the mortal doctor had not come to her selfishly seeking a cure of his own slights. No, this time he needed her to help someone he loved. She knew how that felt, and when she looked into his tear-laden eyes she found it impossible to deny him.
Thank you for reading! Reviews are always very much appreciated! ありがとうございます!
Next chapter: Loki has to confess, and Sif decides she isn't going to play nice anymore.
Side note: Though Loki may have a clearer mind, there will be no short of him being a manipulative little shit ;) Stay tuned!
