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Here is the next chapter, hopefully it helps clear some things up. Also-the Thor 2 trailer was amazing Yes/Yes? I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I!
Please enjoy!
Chapter 28: Nightmares
Fingers twirled masterfully in the long, blond hair before them, twisting the locks into complex braids that were fit for a queen. Seated in front of a vanity made from the finest woods and adorn with the most precious metals, Frigga smiled into the mirror. Her make-up was perfect, of course, and she was dressed beautifully. Behind her was the servant responsible for all of it.
"I am pleased you had time for tea today, Eir." Frigga smiled, "You have kept yourself quite busy in those healing chambers, have you not?"
Eir watched as Frigga stood up from her place in front of the vanity. Once pleased with her appearance, the Queen walked across the room and took a seat in front of one of her many windows overlooking the gardens. The Royal chambers truly had the most astounding views of all rooms in the palace. The handmaiden was always jealous that the Queen could so easily look upon the gardens and bask in their canvas of color. The healing chambers, on the other hand...
"I have been quite busy, Milady." Eir admitted, "The Allfather's orders to confront the threats in Alfheim have brought many men to the healing halls."
And that was where she had spent the greater part of her life—locked away in the bloodstained healing wing. No matter how hard she scrubbed, the crimson hue never quite left the stone floors. No matter how hard she worked, Odin's foolish war plans made sure she was always busy. They were painted with a palate of brown and red-the stones cold and uninviting. A wretched existence, indeed.
"I pray you are well, dear." The queen remarked, "I have noticed you have been…distant lately."
And as the handmaiden fetched the hot water for tea, she gave a small reassuring smile to the elegantly dressed woman.
"Just tired, Milady." She lied, "My magic only works so well."
There was a painful truth to that, she knew. Aside from the wounded warriors she would attend to on a daily basis, she was also left exhausted from trying to cure her own slights. Each night, long after most of Asgard had fallen to slumber, she had found herself in the medical suit reading ancient books and mixing complicated medicines. On more than one occasion, they had made her far sicker than she was.
Freya had left her little choice, of course. Without the Goddess' magic, she was left trying to cure herself—with little success. It made her want to scream, not being able to give herself the same fix she offered so many others. It was heart-wrenching watching other Asgardians heal so easily. It was devastating that no one would help her.
"You should get some rest, Eir." Frigga suggested, watching the handmaiden intently pour hot water into fine china, "Healers are of little use when exhausted."
Shaking her head, Eir gave Frigga a warm smile.
"Is this why you wished to have tea with me, Milady?" she asked with an air of humor in her voice, "To make sure I was well?"
In the corner of her eyes, Eir could see the Queen thinking. Pulling out the box of tea, the handmaiden glanced over the exotic assortment—'twas tea that was made for royalty. It was not a quality commoners saw.
"Not exactly."
Casting a curious glance at Frigga, Eir brought the tea box over to the woman seated by the window. She didn't know why, but her heart had suddenly started to race with the Queen's words.
"Which flavor today, your highness?" Eir asked nervously, not exactly sure where the sudden fear had come from, "Chamomile? Green? Lavender?
Almost looking through her, Frigga sent a sharp glance towards the tea-bearing healer. Swallowing hard, Eir's golden eyes tried their best to meet the strength of the blue that were staring at her. There was a certain coldness to Frigga's face now, a chill that had not been there moments before, and the handmaiden suddenly knew this meeting was not for tea.
"I'll have what my son usually has."
Eir tried her best to give the Queen a smile.
"Which one, Milady?"
This time, the look in Frigga's eyes had turned to something positively malicious…and Eir suddenly knew exactly what this meeting was about.
"The one you're sleeping with."
Rolling her eyes, the handmaiden closed the tea box and let out a nervous laugh—avoiding the prying stare from the Queen in front of her. She was no actress—she was not a gifted liar—and she knew that her actions betrayed her. Still, she attempted to save herself.
"Forgive me, Milady." She began slowly, "But I know not what you speak of."
To this, the healer was met only with a laugh.
"You're lying." She insisted, "Freya told me everything."
Cursing under her breath, Eir simply gave the Queen a dismissive wave of her hand.
"Freya has never been fond of me, my Queen." Eir explained, "Tis she who lies."
Placing the tea down on the table in front of the Queen, the young healer studied the older woman's features carefully. Doubt had now entered the Queen's face, her features softened from before. Eir only hoped that the Queen was unaware of her furiously beating heart.
"So there is no truth to it?" Frigga asked, her tone almost regretful, "I didn't think—"
"My Queen, I swear to you." Eir smiled, stunned that she was being believed, "Freya detests me. What better way to hurt me than to spread salacious rumors about Prince Loki and I?"
But as the handmaiden brought the teacup to her lips, she saw her folly.
And so did the Queen.
It all happened rather quickly, but Eir soon found her face facing another wall and her cheek throbbing—the echo of a slap ringing through the royal bedchambers. Hissing, the woman put a shaking hand to her swollen face, her golden eyes afraid to look into the blue of the woman she just betrayed.
"Milady, I—"
"I don't want to hear your lies!" Frigga spat, "I should have known!"
Eir remained silent as Frigga walked across the room, her jaw visibly clenched and her green dress billowing furiously behind her.
"I had seen the way he smiled at you in the gardens." She admitted, "I thought nothing of it but…"
Finally meeting the Queen's eyes, Eir could feel her heart beating quicker as Frigga walked over to her—a disgusted look on her face.
"Is what Freya said true?"
Looking towards the golden floor, Eir could see the devastation in her own face. She didn't want to admit it. She should have known Freya would have betrayed her- she should have known.
"Yes." She admitted weakly, "But my queen—"
A gasp escaped the handmaiden's lips as she was slapped again. Tasting the metallic flavor of blood, the handmaiden cringed as she brought a hand up to her bleeding lip. Frigga was looking murderous, and Eir prayed to any being that would listen to spare her from the Queen's wrath. Feeling warm tears leave her eyes unwillingly, Eir looked straight into Frigga's hard eyes.
"I love him more than words can say." She admitted quietly, "He is my best friend and—"
"He has a duty to Asgard." Frigga reminded harshly, "You know that well."
Eir could feel her chest tighten.
"Yes, but I lo—"
"No amount of love can provide him an heir." The queen spat, "As such, Odin and I have chosen a more…appropriate suitor for him."
Feeling her bottom lip shake, Eir blinked away heavy tears and tried to contain a cry. Frigga, the woman she had served her entire life, was standing before her with a merciless expression across her features. What she was saying was worse than death. The words she was saying might as well been daggers slicing through her flesh.
There was little difference.
"What?" Eir whispered, her lip bleeding further, "What did you say?"
"He is to wed Sigyn." Frigga elaborated, "And you are to end whatever illicit affair you have been hiding."
Not able to hide the anger, the handmaiden clenched her jaw and wiped the blood away from her lip once more. She wanted to throw the teacups on the ground and watch them burst. She wanted to rip Frigga's perfect braids out of her hair. She wanted to spit on her uncaring face. Frigga was a hypocrite—she had an adopted son. Loki wasn't even hers to control and yet…
"He won't do it. He doesn't love her." Eir insisted, almost to herself, "They are an ill-match. He has a choice, does he not?!"
But this, again, was simply met by the Queen's laughter.
"You are delusional, my dear..." Frigga began, "...to think affection has anything to do with royal unions."
Eir could feel her heart breaking.
"There are few things in the universe more desirable than the throne." Frigga whispered, her voice silky, "Do not for a second think yourself one of them."
Opening her eyes quickly, Eir screamed as she felt the bright sting of burning flesh blaze across her hand. On her palm was the screeching green gem, its facets casting an emerald glow across the dark room. It was shaking with ferocity, each rock sliding the stone further into the fleshy palm.
"What interesting memories you have, my dear."
Hearing the gem's unmistakable cackle, Eir hissed as she pulled the intrusive stone out of her hand, the hard edges of the stone taking strips of flesh along with it. Letting out a small scream, the goddess cursed as she threw the stone across the room, just far enough so that she could rush her bleeding hand over to the small bathroom.
Twisting the nobs quickly, the woman groaned as her hand made contact with the running water—the clear liquid quickly turning a deathly hue.
"You won't last much longer."
Casting her eyes over towards the shaking stone on the floor, Eir swallowed hard. The stone was playing with her mind, manipulating her memories…
"I can make all of your pain go away." It cooed, "In my world, your memories end far better than reality…"
Catching sight of her reflection in the bathroom mirror, the woman gasped when she saw someone different—their eyes green and their grin positively wicked. It looked like her, but it wasn't her.
"Just give up." The reflection told her, "You're so tired."
Not able to take it anymore, she snapped.
"Stop it!" she screamed desperately, "Stop it, stop it, stop it!"
Breathing heavily, the goddess noticed that the stone stopped screeching and the reflection was now more familiar. Though not much of an improvement, the woman in the mirror was now herself—bloodshot golden eyes and a brow wet with sweat. Casting her eyes down, she shuddered as the water continued to sting her hand. Her mind was reeling—aching—after the intrusion, and she wanted nothing more than to destroy the stone that now sat idly across the room.
Wrapping the wound in whatever fabric she could find, the healer walked over to the gem and picked it up angrily. Her hands were shaking, the pain unbearable, and the power from the stone only made her sicker. She knew that if she were to fall asleep again, she wouldn't live to see tomorrow. Staying awake meant staying alive. There was no other option.
Loki rested his head against the cold window overlooking New York City. The small light below looked like stars, and the stream of cars looked like glowing rivers so far away. He needed something—anything—to keep his mind from drowning in the images Thanos had burdened him with.
He could still feel his warm breath across his neck, his smooth words painting horrific pictures that Loki just couldn't shake. Each time he closed his eyes, he would see it—he would see Thor screaming for his help, his brother suffocating in his own blood, and he was powerless. He could see Thanos's malicious smile grow with each blow-Thor helpless to defend himself. And in each vision, Loki could see himself standing and watching. Sometimes he was screaming. Other times he was laughing and joining in.
And that was the worst.
As much as he hated Thor-as much as he detested being second best-seeing himself kill his brother in his dreams made him want to vomit. It would all look so real. He could see his reflection in Thor's blue eyes as he maimed him…he could smell the blood on his brother's pleading face…
And yet, that wasn't even the worst of it.
Thanos had painted pictures of butchering his friends, as well. He could still see the images of Frandall's head detached from his body. He could see every ripped ribbon-like muscle slick with blood. He could still see the images of Volstagg gutted like the pig that he was-animals making meals out of him. He could still see Hogun dismembered and forever silent. And he could hear the desperate pleading; he could still hear the frantic begging as Thanos did unthinkable things to…
He didn't even want to think about it. He didn't want to think that these people meant so much to him. He didn't want to think that he was so weak. He had wanted to badly to cut all ties, he wanted so badly to simply rely on himself, but in the wake of these dreadful dreams it was becoming apparent he could not.
Apparently, some ties were too hard to break even for him.
But his thoughts were temporarily suspended as a particularly filthy Asgardian curse echoed through Stark's living room. Moving his eyes across the reflection in window, a small smile found its way to the trickster's face. His intruder was a familiar face, though obviously distressed, and would act as the perfect distraction from his tortured mind.
"That is rather crude language for a woman, don't you think?"
The image in the window only glared at him.
"You are simply the last person I wanted to see."
Loki watched intently as the woman poured herself a shot glass filled with alcohol. Her hand was shaking slightly as she poured from one of Stark's finer liquors, and in the reflection he could see the unmistakable look of exhaustion in her face. The healer looked shaken—scared—and part of him desperately wanted to know why.
"I never knew you to be a drinker." He remarked cautiously, now turned towards the goddess of medicine, "I suppose in times like this…"
But she did not bring the glass to her lips; instead, Loki cringed as she turned it over her on her hand—the amber color of the liquid quickly turning brown. While it must have been unbearable pain, the goddess before him made sure not to show it. In place of pain, Loki could only see detest for him painted across her face.
"If I could be of assistance I…"
"I was just leaving." She interrupted, "I am in need of no one's help but my own."
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Loki watched as the woman started to walk out from behind the bar. On her arm, he could see the cascading designs of dried blood and in her pocket he could see the unmistakable glow of green—The Soul Gem. Loki could feel his chest tighten as he looked at her. Though he tried to stop their assault, the images came flooding back. If what Thanos said was true…
"Stay." He urged quietly, silencing his own volatile thoughts, "Please."
To his surprise, the healer stopped short of leaving the room.
"Why?" she asked bitterly, pain evident in her voice, "So you could remind me that I'm a failure of a doctor?"
Loki cringed as she reminded him of his own cruel words.
"No." Loki admitted softly, "I…"
There was no use in lying now.
"I don't want to be alone."
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