Part II: In the Dark
Chapter 2: Grads of Rock
"Midgardian travel is exhausting." Loki moans into his pillow. He pulls the blanket over his head and Eleanor yanks it right off again. "Never again will I set foot in such a repulsive death trap."
"An airplane?"
"Yes."
"Well, then I guess we're never going anywhere ever again because I hate that freaky teleportation thing you do," she replies, leaning down to place a kiss between his shoulder blades on her way to the bathroom.
Loki snags her wrist, rolling to pull Eleanor back to bed. She squeaks and ends up sprawled over his chest.
"Is the university one of the places we will never again go?" he murmurs in her ear, fingers digging into her side. Eleanor giggles. She tangles fingers in his dark hair. He wears it shorter now, just long enough to pull back if he so chooses, and Eleanor likes its slight curl at the ends.
"We have to go. Break is nearly over and I have classes to plan. Plus, I am sure Jane is going crazy without you. She's on campus waiting for us."
"I care not for the needs of Thor's woman," he says, closing his eyes and settling down as if going back to sleep is an option.
"You can call her by her name, Loki," Eleanor scolds. "You know you like Jane as much as I do. And she isn't Thor's woman anymore."
"I like you only," he says.
Her heart always breaks for him when he says stuff like this. It's a choice of course, him not liking anyone else. He still feels the need to protect himself this way and it makes Eleanor so sad.
But he really, truly likes her and that is certainly something special.
"Five more minutes," she says, cuddling a bit closer.
"Ten. Jane can wait."
It ends up being closer to twenty.
There is a second thing here on Midgard that Loki really, truly likes.
Eleanor is the first, obviously, but the University of New Mexico is a distant second.
Education is not so highly valued on Asgard, and Loki loves to learn just for the sake of it. Simply knowing all there is to know is a life's joy for her god. Although he has zero respect for modern human culture, he deeply appreciates the sources of knowledge held by the university.
As someone who barely finished high school, Eleanor found the whole notion of higher education completely overwhelming. College was Loki's idea, something he started pushing for not long after the whole thinking-about-her-killing fiasco. She agreed to take a few music courses and here she is, working on her master's.
Not that it's really a master's. Loki faked transcripts to get her out of all those pesky core and prerequisites – much to Jane's dismay – allowing Eleanor to just do music, music, music.
Eleanor packs all her classes into Tuesdays and Thursdays, as does Jane, so they still spend plenty of time at the donut-shaped lab at the Stark Complex.
Even if Loki much prefers campus to the lab.
Technically, he's a university employee, a lab assistant to Dr. Jane Foster – a title no one would ever dare utter in his presence – but Eleanor has no idea what he actually does with himself every Tuesday and Thursday while she's booked up and Jane is teaching. He seems to have read his way through at least half the stacks.
To Eleanor, he's thriving here, even if he can't see it. She's not naïve enough to believe that their quiet little life will last. Loki won't be content with the simplicity and the Midgardianness forever, but she will enjoy it now. They were both in need of some serious rest, but the three and a half years since she brought him back to New Mexico doesn't feel long enough to Eleanor.
Loki has probably been using their years of peace to plot something horrible. What she'll do when he ruins it is beyond her, and as peaceful as things have been since Loki thought about killing her a couple of years ago, it taught her a lesson.
Loki's always plotting something.
As they walk through campus, he keeps their joined hands in his pocket, knowing that she gets cold in a way he doesn't. Campus will remain nearly deserted until next week when classes start up again. Eleanor will enjoy the empty campus while it lasts, too.
"I prefer this place devoid of the loud, reckless youths you spend your time instructing," Loki muses. Eleanor smiles and nods her agreement as Loki leads her through a courtyard to the science building.
From down the hall they can hear eighties rock blaring from the general direction of Jane's office. The ruckus makes Eleanor smile and Loki groan.
"I almost find myself preferring the hovel that is your false family's home," he mutters.
Eleanor rolls her eyes and makes him walk a little faster.
Jane is at her whiteboard, writing frantically. From the condition of her office it looks like she's spent more than a few solid days here. Her hair is pulled back into a greasy ponytail and she keeps pushing her crooked glasses up her nose. She vibrates with excitement, singing off key even as she scribbles out complicated formulas.
The university had a last minute staffing issue at the beginning of the school year and with Eleanor and Loki here half the week, Jane took the position. Why she is working here over break, rather than the much fancier lab at the complex is a mystery to Eleanor.
Eleanor suspects that Jane also took the position because the Bifrost project is winding down and she has no idea what she'll do with herself next.
"Interesting," declares Loki, stroking his chin as he reads Jane's work.
Jane spins around. "Loki! Oh, thank God you're here."
"No need thank me," Loki replies.
Eleanor really regrets teaching him that particular joke and Jane lets out a frustrated little growl.
"But, look! I would have called while you were away but Darcy forbid it. Loki—"
"I have eyes, Jane," he replies with a weary sigh. "I can see. When?"
"Five days ago."
Loki is striding towards the mess of a whiteboard as Jane shoves papers in his face and talks a mile a minute. Eleanor only understands every fifth word, but this is typical. She could easily rattle off complex music theory for hours – as she is forced to do in the one undergrad course she has to teach – but when they get all sciencey, she feels like an idiot. Loki stopped even trying to explain his work with Jane years ago.
"I hate that I'm not in the lab right now. Why did I even sign on for this professor gig? We are so close."
Jane is groaning.
Loki is grinding his teeth.
"We are not close," he snaps. "Or did you forget the most recent directive from your Director Nicholas Fury?"
Fortunately, Jane is used to his prickliness and continues to babble.
Six months ago they had a major breakthrough, nearly fixing the bridge, but SHIELD decided to hold off at Loki's suggestion that they continue working to find a way to control who comes through from the Midgardian side.
Apparently, this was super offensive to Thor who took the whole thing as a slight, and after some pretty loud fights he went back to Asgard furious, never to be seen since. The worst part for Thor seemed to be Jane agreeing with Loki that yes, the mortals should have some agency over the bridge that brings aliens to Earth.
Eleanor often catches Jane watching the sky with longing. Loki gets the same sad look, but he is much better at hiding it.
"Hi, Jane," Eleanor calls, grabbing a trashcan and filling it with deteriorating Starbucks cups and other wrappers from the vending machine. Eleanor is totally cooking dinner tonight. Jane needs a real meal.
"Hi, Eleanor," Jane replies, not even glancing up from her scribbled notes. "Missed you."
"Oh, I don't think it was me you missed."
Loki may still privately refer to Jane as "Thor's Whore", but that's mostly for show. At the very least he has a deep respect for her intellect.
Eleanor sighs as the two of them really launch into it.
"I'm going to the studio," Eleanor declares when she gets bored. Jane waves absently, but Loki straightens and frowns, crossing the distance between them.
"Shall I come?" he murmurs, reaching up to cradle her jaw.
"No. Jane needs you."
Loki scoffs.
"And I know you'd rather be doing whatever the hell this is than watching me plan lessons," Eleanor says.
Loki gives her a begrudging nod. "I will check in. No more than two hours, Eleanor."
His typical over-protectiveness makes her smile and she kisses him quickly before waving at Jane and exiting the cluttered workspace.
With each passing year the maximum distance allowed between them gets a little longer. Now they can be over two miles apart. The new space is rarely utilized with the exception of their time on campus. After having him so near for so long, Eleanor doesn't like leaving any more than Loki does, but their life now requires it.
In another year she'll be finished with her masters and part of her dreads the end of her education. The Allfather shows no signs of declaring Loki rehabilitated, even if he's been weirdly silent on the punishment front for the last couple years, and she wonders where they'll end up next.
A bored Loki is a dangerous Loki, but it doesn't seem likely that working with Jane will keep him interested forever, especially with them so close to completing their work with the Bifrost. The future nags at Eleanor endlessly, despite Loki's apparent contentment with their current situation.
Maybe she'll get her doctorate. Or her fake doctorate, anyway.
But for now she'll focus on the semester. Between the undergrad class she's teaching and her own performance and theory work, she'll have plenty to keep her mind occupied.
Still, this fragile peace they've managed to scrape together does not feel nearly as permanent as she'd like it to be.
When he locates his songbird exactly two hours later she is alone in the dark, sitting with her legs crossed in the very center of her rehearsal space. Three instruments hover a few inches from the ground, encircling her with music.
The guitar, the fiddle, and the mandolin all play seemingly of their own accord, while Eleanor's fingers pluck along on the banjo in her lap.
Her improvement in the last few years since they started these magical music lessons has been slow and her natural magical ability is mediocre at best, but she is ever a determined little creature and the hours she is willing to spend in practice is admirable.
Now Loki leans against the doorframe, watching her play four instruments simultaneously. A great pride fills him, not only because her skill comes at his instruction, but mainly because one as extraordinary as Eleanor belongs to Loki in totality.
She is perfection personified and she belongs to him.
He recognizes the melody of the quartet she now plays as the style her beloved old time. The genre is not a particular favorite of Loki, but this is the music she was raised on.
During their trip he was given a live demonstration of what Eleanor calls "porch pickers," and Loki must admit the only enjoyable part of their time away was seeing her so firmly in her element, happily creating music with a group of old men triple her age on a decaying front porch, braving frigid temperatures to do so.
But he prefers her as she is now, using the magic he taught her to create something all her own. She plays songs like this just as she breathes, nearly without thought and as if her very survival depends on it. It is how he feels about his own magic.
Eleanor has not yet mastered the addition of her voice to playing multiple instruments, claiming that singing disturbs her focus. It may take years more for her to perfect this magic and sing even as she plays.
The slowness of her progress pleases Loki endlessly as her need for him as teacher provides another reason for her to willingly stay at his side.
The plot to trick her into loving him has proved extremely successful since he nearly lost her, but he remains discontent. She smiles at him as she smiled in the vision of the Tesseract, but knowing it is all actually a lie, a manipulation on his part, is painful. Still, her dependence on him is apparent and this is enough.
He watches her for a few more moments before deliberately allowing his shoes to make noise on the hard floor. Just as he intended, Eleanor jerks out of her trace-like state and the instruments find their way to the floor around her in a thumping dissonance of sound.
The sharp intake of breath indicates her surprise and Loki attempts to appear innocent as her eyes fly open. She throws a hand over her chest and he tries not to smirk.
"You do not appear to be planning any lessons for the young and the useless," Loki observes, slowing approaching her.
"You made me lose focus," Eleanor says, pouting. "And you almost broke these shitty school instruments."
The hand he offers is ignored as Eleanor struggles with the long skirt of her dress but eventually she makes it to her feet without assistance. She checks on said instruments and Loki follows close behind as she puts each in its proper place.
When Eleanor finally turns to him, she reaches out to fiddle with the end of his scarf.
"I'm finished," she says. "I'm only teaching one intro theory course this semester. So, I'm done."
"Do you dread it as you did last semester?" he asks. His songbird loathes speaking to all but those closest to her, but her pursuit of a higher degree of education requires her to actually teach the cursed youths.
"Yeah."
"Then why do it?" He still does not quite understand. Even if it was he that encouraged Eleanor to enroll in the university, he would think that she would simply take courses she wants to take and ignore the arbitrary requirements to complete a degree.
"I'm conquering my fear to make myself a better person, Loki," she says, hands going to her hips. She is adorable when she scowls. "It's called personal growth. You should try it."
By the end of her speech Eleanor is smiling and leaning into his chest, her voice gentle and teasing. He is not one to suffer teasing, but Eleanor – as proves true in most things – is the exception.
"I have grown personally. For example I was alone with Thor's Whore for two hours and not once did I feel the urge to shove her out a window," he replies, resting his hands on her hips.
"Don't call her that. And they aren't even together anymore!" Eleanor fights to continue scowling, but offers no resistance when he bends to kiss her.
"Can you not work in Jane's office?" he murmurs after kissing her just enough to make her dizzy and compliant. It is with great ease that Loki gets his way when she is in such a state.
"Will Jane let me play my guitar?"
"Of course." A lie.
"No, she won't."
Loki kisses Eleanor a bit more.
"Fine," she says. "I'll hang out until lunch, but then I'm coming back here to practice. I mean it, Loki."
He kisses her once more before leading her back to the science facility.
"So are you going to clue me in on what had you guys so freaking excited?" Eleanor asks when he slides into bed, smelling clean after his shower. Try as she might to keep her tone light and politely curious, Loki hears the annoyance in her question and chuckles as he rolls, propping himself up on an elbow to stare down at her.
"Are you cross with me, darling? Is your absurd and misplaced jealousy flaring up once more?" he asks, delighted by the idea. He pushes her curls off her forehead.
"I'm not jealous. Feeling left out when you two talk in a different language is not the same as being jealous."
On the surface, Jane and Loki do seem more compatible with their gigantic brains, but Eleanor understands him in ways no one else could.
Except when he goes into science mode with Jane.
"Remember to tell me like you are talking to a little kid," she says when he starts to explain.
"You are not even half a century old," he mutters. "Child is apt."
"Loki," she says with a sigh and an eye roll.
"Jane found something," he replies. This is obvious to even Eleanor, but she told him to talk simply and she nods at him to continue. "The anomaly very well could be the solution to our current goal."
"Choosing who to let through the bridge, you mean? Giving Midgard control of who comes through that entry point?"
Loki frowns. "Devising a means to deny or allow entry to this realm will take more work. Jane's anomaly will likely allow us to identify those who seek entry."
This additional security to give Midgardians some agency over the bridge is all Loki's doing and Eleanor is proud. It was really stunning to see Loki plead his case to Fury, telling SHIELD to be wary of Odin and encouraging them to seek a way to control who enters this realm through this bridge.
Miraculously, they listened.
This is Loki's atonement. She is aware he is doing it only to please her, but it is more than she ever hoped for before their big blow up over his attempts to break the bond.
"How are you going to do that?" she asks. The whole thing seems too impossible to wrap her head around.
"Magic." When he grins like that he makes him look like a mischievous little boy. She lets out a squeak when he abruptly rolls onto her, settling himself between her thighs as they automatically fall open to accommodate his hips.
"What kind of magic?" Her question is breathless.
"Intent, Eleanor. It is all about intent."
As he kisses her, Eleanor wonders about his intent.
She was ecstatic when he started fully contributing to the Bifrost project, but he took it to a whole new level when he sought to give Midgard control. Why he was so adamant that work on the bridge includes a means for humankind to allow or deny entry to this realm is a mystery.
This control over the bridge seems fair and important to Eleanor – and apparently Jane and Fury as well – but obviously seen as an offensive sign of distrust to Thor and Odin.
Was this Loki's intent? To cause strain between Midgard and Asgard?
Although Eleanor trusts him with her heart and soul and life, she can't trust him with her people.
Loki is kissing her and kissing her, his current intent becoming clear as he touches her and all thought leaves her mind completely.
Even after nearly three years of peace and rest here with Eleanor, Loki has no master plan, outside his ongoing plot to make her love him.
She looks at him on occasion – in particular when he stresses the need to control entry to Midgard via the Bifrost – as if she is trying to determine his true, secret goals, but for once his schemes are all minor and amusing, far from the nefarious sagas that landed him here on Midgard in the arms of the songbird.
Save for the one.
It is his most successfully executed plot to date, but this knowledge brings him no satisfaction.
After nearly losing her due to his own idiocy, he sought to manipulate her affection into something much more potent and lasting to ensure that she would never make good on her ability to return him to the mercy of the Allfather.
At this point, it is obvious that he's managed to thoroughly trick her into loving him. Despite the lack of verbal confirmation on Eleanor's part, her feelings are apparent in her touch, in her smiles.
It is the way she smiles that truly convinces him of this success. Her expressions of joy and contentment are the same as those he saw in the blue haze of the Tesseract all those years ago.
She is tender. She is kind. It is all the result of Loki's manipulation and the knowledge sits uncomfortable in his gut, ignored as often as possible but an irritant nonetheless.
Her affection is a lie, but for once the falseness of the relationship is Loki's own doing. As the Allfather duped Loki into familial love, Loki dupes Eleanor into the romantic version.
The knowledge leaves him hollow while the thought of being away from her sickens him, shredding his insides in a pain that seems far more potent than the memory of the titan. The possibility of losing her keeps him from divulging this plot but his instinct is to confess.
Sharing did not go well for them last time he made the mistake of giving her the truth.
It is not often he thinks on this one masterful plot, but as Eleanor inquires on Jane's findings she gives him that look, as if she is struggling to determine his true motives and intentions.
The measure to give Midgard a certain level of control over who enters their realm is about Eleanor, of course, as most things seem to be these days. Giving Odin free and easy access to the Bifrost entry in New Mexico puts Eleanor at risk. If offering the pathetic mortals sound advice benefits Eleanor in even the slightest of ways then Loki will give such guidance in earnest.
It was shocking that Jane listened as Loki talked of the folly in allowing Asgard total control of the Bifrost, so much so that she took his idea to Fury. Now they work tirelessly to find a way for Midgardians to either accept or reject would-be travelers.
It will not wholly limit Asgard's ability to enter the realm freely, as there are other bridges throughout Midgard, but it will give Loki time to devise a plan to keep Eleanor safe if any were to come for them.
Annoying his false brother and father is a lovely side effect of his mostly good intentions.
As Loki kisses her to avoid more inane questions, he allows himself to believe the lie. He pretends that the juvenile falsity of love is indeed real and that Eleanor's feelings towards him are genuine, not a product of his carefully executed plot.
When she threads her fingers through his hair, arching off the mattress to be closer and moaning his name, lying to himself becomes extremely easy.
"Thanks for coming," she says, tucking his hair behind his ear.
Loki snorts. "As if I have a choice."
"You could easily pop into the bookstore down the block," she points out. "Closed or not."
He takes in the crowded bar with distaste before focusing on the infinitely more attractive songbird. Eleanor stands at his side where he sits at a table they are saving for her friends, bestowing smile after smile upon him.
"Eleanor," he says, sighing. "I do not refer to our bond when I speak of choice but all the Midgardians here who are in need of a reminder that you belong to me, after what you do up there." Loki glares at the stage where Eleanor and her "band" have set up their equipment.
This ridiculous affair is yet another sign of just how far he has fallen during his time on Midgard. He allows Eleanor to flaunt herself, playing horrible music because she enjoys it so.
Still, he is extremely thankful that Eleanor and her fellow graduate students are only able to find the time to put on this monstrosity several times throughout the school year.
Each are passable musicians in their own feeble Midgardian way. He's heard them create perfectly acceptable music in jazz ensembles and orchestras at the university. Why they feel the need to "blow off steam" in this "electronic rock with a punk thing happening" group is beyond Loki's understanding. It seems like blasphemy to Loki, creating something so horrible and painful to the ear when they are capable of such beauty.
Yet many Midgardians continue to pack themselves into this bar, willingly subjecting themselves to the heresy of "electronic rock with a punk thing happening." He recognizes faces from the university. It seems the whole of Eleanor's department is in attendance, students and professors alike.
Occasionally someone will nod at Loki, but he's done an excellent job cultivating an air of unapproachability. On campus, he is known either as Eleanor's scary and silent "boyfriend" or Jane's scary and silent "assistant." Both these demeaning titles are abhorrent, but rarely is he forced to socialize with the mortals.
"I'm not trying to seduce anyone. It's called rocking out, Loki," Eleanor says, rolling her eyes.
"Tell that to all these Midgardians who undress you with their minds."
"Who are we mentally undressing?" asks Darcy Lewis, taking the seat next to Loki. Jane Foster and Steve Rodgers quickly join her, bringing with them a larger pitcher of dark ale. Loki immediately helps himself.
"No one is undressing anyone with their minds, okay? Shit," Eleanor says, flustered. She plucks the glass of ale from Loki's hand, taking a sip.
"Shall I pour you a drink of your own, my dear?" he asks.
"I got you a glass, Ellie," says the Captain of America.
She shakes her head and proceeds to guzzle half Loki's beer.
"What the fuck is that!" Loki winces as Darcy Lewis shrieks in his ear, clambering to her feet and reaching across Loki's face to grab at Eleanor's wrist. "What the fuck is this?" she demands again, flapping around Eleanor's hand.
"It's a ring, Darcy," she replies, snatching her hand back and resting it on Loki's shoulder. "Calm the hell down."
Ah, Loki understands now and he grins. He's been working on a way to get a ring on the fourth finger of Eleanor's left hand since he discovered the bizarre Midgardian betrothal custom.
Upon meeting Eleanor's detestable childhood paramour, he took the opportunity to place it there without much fuss from Eleanor. She rolled his eyes at his jealousy when Loki announced their engagement to the man, but it was laughably easy to convince her to see the jewelry as a simple gift.
It is not a simple gift.
And she has not removed it since.
"Why am I just now hearing about this?" Darcy asks, turning on Jane. "You've been with them for two straight days. I get Eleanor being her typical close-lipped self but I expected better of you, Jane."
"I didn't notice," says Thor's ex-Whore, leaning across the table to study Eleanor's ring. "Pretty. You guys are really getting married?"
"Uh, no," Eleanor says, snorting as if the idea is the most amusing concept in all the realms. "Loki got all possessive when we ran into my ex over Christmas break and he magicked it onto my hand. It's fake. Loki faked an engagement to send my ex a message or something. I don't know."
Eleanor can say what she likes, but she has yet to remove the ring. He has no need of barbaric Midgardian marriage rituals, although seeing his ring on her finger is highly pleasing. The rest of the world sees it too.
"Oh," says Darcy Lewis, dramatically flopping into her chair. "That's lame."
Steve Rodgers pours her a beer and rubs her back.
"Why are you still wearing it?" Jane asks, giving Loki a look he has no hope of understanding. "If it's all fake."
Eleanor shrugs. "It's pretty. I like it."
Loki smirks at the ridiculous doctor. Jane shakes her head as if she is aware of something that remains hidden to the rest of them.
Eleanor steals the remainder of his ale.
"You are lucky that I am fond of you," he mutters when she hands back his drained glass. He grasps her hand, running his thumb over the ring in question.
Eleanor grins, waggling her eyebrows in an absurd manner as she leans down to kiss him. Loki hums, feeling her smile against his lips.
It is the smile he always wanted from her, but having it now is false. The thought leaves him bitter and he pushes it away.
"Thank you for coming," she says once more as she straightens. "I know you hate this music."
"Yes, how will you reward me?"
"I might have to get creative."
The promise in her words and gaze will be enough to sustain him through the coming misery. It also keeps him silent when her fellow graduate students and band members approach Eleanor, distributing shots to the table.
"To the Grads of Rock!" says the male band member who spends far too much time looking at Eleanor. Apparently this band's name is meant to be a humorous play on the term "gods of rock." This too is beyond Loki's ability to understand, but he partakes in the toast all the same.
Eleanor gives Loki a final, chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth before joining her peers on the stage. Darcy hauls Jane to the obscenely crowded dance floor, packed in with all the other cheering mortals. It leaves Loki alone with the Man out of Time. Although they are nothing close to friends, Loki finds Steve's presence much more tolerable since his courtship of Darcy Lewis.
"What are you doing?" Loki asks, watching as Steve Rodgers shoves bits of neon foam into his ears.
"You're not the only one who doesn't like this odd modern music!" The Captain of America replies with much more volume than is necessary. "Earplugs?"
This genius idea could easily be accomplished with magic, but Loki finds himself intrigued with this simple Midgardian device. On a rare occasion he is begrudgingly impressed with the ways mortals compensate for their own extreme ineptitude.
He accepts the bright yellow plugs, pinching them as the Captain did before placing them in his ears.
The roar of the crowd is dampened into something bearable and he nods his approval at a grinning Steve.
Eleanor is in the center of the stage at a microphone, an electric guitar strapped to her small frame. A female percussionist, a male with a keyboard, a female bassist, and the man-who-stares who plays a guitar as well, all join her. The man-who-stares is also in charge of the computer and attached speakers that produce the most hideous sounds on some selections.
Currently, he is the one speaking into a microphone of his own. Loki is pleased that his words are so muffled by the plugs in his ears. Eleanor bounces on the balls of her feet, ready to begin. Loki grins as she starts playing before the man-who-stares can finish his speech.
The music maybe distasteful but there is no denying Eleanor's talent, both as a musician and as an entertainer. While her companions are stiff and uncomfortable in this setting so far removed from their standard musical pursuits, Eleanor shines. She "rocks out" and it looks wildly foolish to Loki, but this audience of Midgardians responds exuberantly.
She throws herself around the stage, staring right at Loki and moving her hips suggestively. Her eyes are closed as she wails into the microphone to uproarious cheers.
Although he would die before making such an admission, he understands why the Midgardians lust for musicians.
Eleanor is so powerful like this. He cannot stop grinning as she lets out a scream, tossing her hair around her head and strumming the strings of her guitar as if her life depends upon this one action alone.
Earplugs are a truly inspired notion.
They play for an hour and all but Eleanor exit the stage to take a break between sets.
She pulls on the acoustic guitar he gave her in the bunker and Loki removes his earplugs, leaning forward as Jane and Darcy find their way back to the table.
Without speaking, Eleanor plucks out a series of pleasant chords. The crowd is far too intoxicated for such subdued music, but when she sings a hush falls on the bar. Even the simplest, drunkest mortals are aware enough to focus on the divinity they are currently blessed with.
And she is singing to Loki, eyes only leaving his when they drift closed during a particularly moving lyric.
She is beautiful and awe-inspiring and his.
The words she shares are equally as lovely in the way they express her devotion. They do strange things to Loki's chest. It should be an embarrassment, the way she serenades him so, but Loki enjoys the song immensely.
"I just wrote that today," she says as she sets aside the guitar. "Thanks."
The applause is thunderous, but Eleanor is looking at Loki, nodding towards a hallway next to the stage but she is waylaid by the man-who-stares.
Loki glares.
"Cheer up, Loki," chirps Darcy Lewis. "They were awesome and now you look like you are trying to melt poor Paul's face."
Loki transfers his glare from the man-who-stares to Darcy Lewis. Even after all these years the plucky little engineer pales and cowers under the power of his scowl, but it will do nothing to keep her from speaking in the future. Most lamentably.
"Eyes elsewhere, buddy," says Steve Rodgers, arms crossed over his chest. "I don't like you looking at my lady like that."
"Aw, you don't want him to melt my face," says Darcy, pressing her ample bosom into Steve's side, making the Captain flush and Loki gag.
"I like your face," says Steve.
And then there is wet, sloppy kissing.
Loki struggles, attempting to determine which sight is less repulsive, Darcy Lewis and Steve Rodgers slobbering on one another or the man-who-stares staring at Eleanor as she sits on the edge of the stage.
For once, Thor's ex-Whore provides an adequate distraction, arriving with a second pitcher of amber beer.
"Jeeze, Loki," she says. "Could you at least pretend like you want to be here? You look mad and miserable."
The horrible suction sound indicates that the lovers at his side have separated.
"That's what I said!" Darcy says. "He hates Paul."
"Of course he hates Paul," says the Madame of Science. "Paul likes Eleanor."
Silently accepting the beer from Jane, Loki goes back to scowling at Eleanor and her band mate. She catches Loki at it this time. The man-who-stares is talking and gesturing from where he stands in front of her while the songbird nods absently, making goofy and unattractive faces at Loki. He chuckles into his ale.
After a few more minutes Eleanor gets bored of the chatter, sliding off the stage while the man-who-stares is still mid-sentence. The deplorable Paul follows Eleanor's line of sight to Loki, who gives the man a smirk and a mocking wave. His ears turn pink as he scrambles away to fiddle with some piece of equipment on stage.
Eleanor nods toward the exit once more. Loki empties his glass.
It takes him longer than he'd like to pick his way through the sea of mortals separating him from his songbird, but somehow he manages without shoving anyone, despite his urge to decapitate them all.
He finds Eleanor in the shadows, lurking by the exit. Without speaking, she wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him down by his tie into a kiss eons away from the sweet, tender one she gave him before taking the stage. This passion and need is certainly not a byproduct of her classical and jazz performances, so Loki decides this is a fair tradeoff for sitting through such jarring sounds.
Finding the exit is difficult given the way Eleanor is groping him with lips and hands, but the handle gives, accompanied by a blast of chilly air.
Without thought he conjures her jacket from inside, covering her bare arms. Eleanor giggles against his mouth and this should be his reward of tolerating this evening, but something is not right.
While the skin of his neck provides an adequate distraction for Eleanor, Loki studies the alley, searching for anything out of place.
"Loki," Eleanor says, tugging on his hair.
There is nothing amiss, save for a feeling, so Loki gives in, kissing her once more.
She is so very insistent and aggressive in this moment there is really nothing to do but lift her, wrap her legs around his waist, and press her up against a brick wall. This is not the first time they've engaged in sexual activity in this particular alley, but Loki is finding it difficult to focus on his songbird alone and in a way she deserves.
"Dude." Eleanor groans, tugging on the zipper of his pants. "Work with me here. We don't have that much time."
He doubles his efforts, shuffling through the layers of her clothes to find skin and getting his fingers inside her. Eleanor moans.
She is warm and perfect and his.
But he cannot continue. Loki rears back, lifting his head from Eleanor to study the entrance of the alley. He is unable to ignore the prickling at the back of his neck any longer.
Someone is near, someone decidedly not Midgardian.
"Hey!" Eleanor protests as he withdraws his hand, angry and demanding. Arching her back as she continues to move against him, Eleanor makes it very difficult to ignore the senses screaming for him to focus on the feeling that there is something here that should not be.
"Hush," he snaps, staring avidly at the poorly illuminated entrance to the alley.
"What the—"
He covers her mouth, using the hand that was most recently causing her to writhe and pant to muffle her curses. Although she glares for a moment, she quickly picks up on his tension and defensive posture.
Eleanor stops her groping, sliding down the brick wall. Loki keeps her close when her feet find the ground and listens intently.
There is nothing and Loki worries that he imagined the sensation. It took years for him to once more trust his own instincts after the insanity, to trust his own mind, and now he fears that this is a sign of returning madness.
Attacks of panic are a rarity these days, but he feels the familiar stirring in his chest. Eleanor is struggling against his palm, wrenching it from her mouth.
"Dude," she scolds. "Ease up."
Immediately he loosens his grip but before he can apologize for causing her pain, he is overcome by a wave of magic that fights to steal Eleanor from his side.
He reels, out of practice in such a defensive situation, but Eleanor is unmoved. Her arms are around him, steadying him.
This is powerful magic that attempts to separate him from his songbird, but it is no match for the protection he placed on Eleanor himself the moment his magic returned years ago. It is made stronger by the bond created by Odin that has evolved into something profound and more equal over the years. The bond is no longer Odin's, but theirs and it assists them now.
"Loki?" Eleanor whispers, tightening her arms around his waist.
The onslaught of magic does not stop, but Loki is able to combat it with ease now as Eleanor stares at him with concern, apparently unaware of the unseen entity attempting to separate them.
"Unhand her!" A broad figure appears at the entrance of the alley and Loki straightens. He is unable to weave any offensive magic because of Eleanor's one lasting command, and as irritating as this fact might be, it also indicates that this stranger does not intend to hurt Eleanor.
Still, Loki does not relax. He clutches her a little closer to his side.
"Unhand her, I say!" The stranger's voice is familiar, but his face is hidden in shadow.
Eleanor glances behind them, searching for someone else.
"Are you talking to us?" she finally asks, adorably confused.
"Of course," says the stranger. His voice is deep and smooth. "I will free you from his grasp."
Eleanor snorts. "Listen, man, I don't know what you think you saw but it was consensual. Like, way consensual. We're fine."
"Eleanor," Loki murmurs, hoping to stop the speech that flows from her mouth.
"You know not with whom you consort," replies the stranger that does not sound so much like a stranger.
"Um, yeah, I really do. My boyfriend," she replies, crossing her arms over her chest as she scowls.
"Betrothed," Loki corrects without thought. She does wear his ring, does she not?
"I have no idea why you care," Eleanor continues even though Loki should not let her. "But this is my boyfriend, Luke."
"Betrothed," he says again. Loki detests this fake name she uses for him on campus, but he understands the necessity, what with the videos on the internet of him declaring himself Loki of Asgard, demanding Midgardians kneel. Occasionally some peer of Eleanor will point out the resemblance. Eleanor's responding fake laughter never fails to grate on his nerves.
"Is that what he told you?" asks the stranger. "He claimed to be called Luke?"
As Loki finally places the voice of the stranger, he loses his own to shock. Eleanor finally understands the gravity of the situation, but he can do nothing but mouth the name dumbly."Whoa, who are you?" Eleanor asks. She takes a step towards the door that leads back to the relative safety of the bar, tugging Loki back to her side.
"The creature you cling to wants nothing more than to rule your world. He nearly destroyed New York City. Surely you recall that."
"Um, yeah. A lot fucking better than you do, buddy, being as I was there. Who are you?"
"Eleanor—" Loki starts.
"Silence, you monster!"
"Hey, fuck you!" says Eleanor.
"He is Loki, the trickster of Jotunheim."
"I know who he is," replies Eleanor. "But who the fuck are you?"
"Bragi," Loki finally manages. "Eleanor, it is Bragi."
Whoa, big cliffhanger! My New Years resolution is to get the next chapter up real quick.
Thanks everyone for sticking with this story! Enjoy!
1st beta: Heather
Final beta: Erica