Part II: In the Dark
Chapter 3: Only in Dreams
Eleanor stares intently at the dark shadow at the end of the alleyway that is her long lost father. Loki stares at Eleanor.
The shock apparent on her elegant features is cartoonish and Loki forces back an insane urge to laugh at her ridiculous expression.
"Eleanor? It is Bragi," Loki says again.
"Oh," she says succinctly, snapping out of her shock. "Well, crap."
"Indeed," Loki agrees.
"You know of me?" asks the God of Song, stepping forward. His form is bathed in darkness and Loki tenses because self-defense is not on Eleanor's banned list.
"I informed her of her heritage years ago," Loki says. Eleanor seems to have lost the ability to speak once more. "Why are you here?"
"That is none of your concern. I wish to speak to my daughter in private."
Eleanor makes a choking sound.
"But I see that you have been bewitched by a monster," Bragi continues. "I shall free you of this curse first."
Loki snorts and moves Eleanor towards the door. "If anyone is prisoner in this relationship it is I," he says. "Tell me, cousin, where in the nine realms have you been lurking that you did not hear of my punishment? Of the half mortal that came to Asgard to invoke old magic to tame the monster."
"Hey!" Eleanor says. "Let's not be throwing around the m-word, okay?"
"Enough of this," says Bragi. It is still impossible to see his face. "Come, Eleanor. You are my daughter. Association with this monster will not stand. Come with me now and I will keep you safe."
Eleanor blinks up at Loki. "Is this guy serious?" she asks.
"It would seem so."
"Well, fuck this." She pulls Loki through the door and back into the bar.
Mortals once more surround them. Their presence will keep Bragi from doing anything rash.
Or so Loki hopes.
They linger by the stage, Loki cradling Eleanor's face in his hands.
"I… Fuck."
"Oh, Eleanor." He sighs because there really is nothing else to say.
"I'm fine."
He scoffs.
"And you are not a monster, Loki."
"Eleanor—"
"I need a goddamn drink."
She flees, easily weaving her way to the bar. Loki moves to stand by their table, tracking her movement as she leans over the bar, giving the man she finds there a false smile.
"What's up?" asks Darcy Lewis.
Loki cannot recall when he began to allow for this sort of thing, but Darcy Lewis is speaking to him.
"Up?" he asks, only taking his eyes off Eleanor to scan the crowd for her father.
"Did you guys fight?" she continues. "Did you fake end your fake engagement? You look even crankier than usual. And when you guys go outside between sets you never come back with time to spare."
Loki clenches his jaw and wishes he could magically remove the tongue of Darcy Lewis. He would keep it in his pocket.
"Seriously though," says Jane, slurring her words, "how worried should we be right now?"
"A bit worried," Loki says.
When Eleanor returns a moment later it is with an entire bottle of whiskey and a single glass.
"Are we taking shots?" Jane asks, eyeing the bottle warily. One drink turns the brilliant doctor into a swaying, giggling mess of a mortal. It's embarrassing to be associated with her.
Eleanor does not respond, simply opening the bottle and pouring a generous amount. This first serving gets thrown back and she repeats the process twice more before sipping a fourth glass.
"Shit," says Darcy Lewis. "Are you planning on sharing?"
Eleanor glares and hugs the bottle to her chest.
"What happened?" Steve asks.
Loki opens his mouth to explain, but now Eleanor is glaring at him so he stays silent. He stands at her side, scanning the crowded space for Bragi. Although it's been many centuries, Loki recalls the look of the absentee god with his blond hair and blue eyes, so like Eleanor's.
So like Thor's.
The thought makes him ill.
Bragi appears by the bar, clothed in casual mortal attire. Even as he orders a drink, he stares at Loki in a way that is meant to be intimidating. The god is nowhere near as broad as Thor, but his stature is more imposing than the typical Midgardian. The lower portion of his face is hidden by a long, blond beard, streaked with hints of grey.
Bragi is an unpleasant reminder that Eleanor belongs somewhere, while Loki belongs only with her.
"Eleanor," he murmurs, alerting her to the presence of his father.
She glances at the man quickly before pouring another drink. "He fucking looks like an older, skinnier, creepier Thor."
"Wait," says Jane, blinking in the direction of the bar. "What?"
"Bio-daddy's in the goddamn house," Eleanor replies, continuing to drink.
"Wait," Jane says again. "What?"
"Eleanor's birth father accosted us while we were outside, quite angry to learn of his daughter's relationship with a monster," Loki explains.
Eleanor mutters into her whiskey.
"Holy shit," says Darcy.
"What does he want?" Steve asks.
"We did not get so far as to know," Loki replies, rubbing Eleanor's shoulder. "He alienated Eleanor horribly before I had a chance to find out."
"Bigoted motherfucker."
"Eleanor, let us go," Loki begs. "There is no need for you to remain here."
"The second set."
"Do not concern yourself with this," Loki asks.
"I'm playing the fucking set!" And then she stomps off towards the stage, whiskey bottle in hand.
Although the masses of Midgardians dancing at her feet would never notice, the second half of the performance is much more subdued than the first. Eleanor is intoxicated, her eyes glassy as she sways at the microphone. The voice is no less powerful, but Eleanor does not revel in performing as she did before.
She is closing herself up, withdrawing from the wide world and in doing so, she scares Loki. The last time she went silent he very nearly lost her, and logically he understands that she will not leave him now, that this is not about him. Still, this knowledge does not make it any easier to watch her on stage as she shuts down emotion by emotion.
Bragi is here still, simply watching Eleanor and frowning.
Eleanor does not look at Loki. She does not look at anything, save the back of her eyelids.
Loki would like nothing more than to remove her from this painful situation but she won't allow it and he is helpless to do anything but observe.
"We helped, right?" Eleanor asks, leaning heavily on Loki as he directs her towards the jeep. "We helped everyone pack away all that equipment?"
"Yes, yes," Loki says, annoyed by her bossiness even while this inebriated. "I helped your peers pack away their equipment while you attempted to out drink the Man out of Time."
Eleanor's giggles are hysterical. "But he can't get drunk!"
"I am aware, thus my disapproval of your plan," Loki says, lifting Eleanor into her seat in the jeep.
"Hey, hey, wait." Eleanor grabs at the collar of his shirt as he attempts to pull away and shut the door. "I'm sorry."
"Eleanor—"
"No, no, no. I am! You hate it when I get all drunk and old Ellie-like so I'm sorry. I don't do this anymore. I don't. I know. But…"
She cannot continue. Tears gather in the corner of her eyes.
"Hush, Eleanor," he murmurs, cradling her face and kissing her forehead. Her small hands fist in the fabric of his shirt. "There is no reason for you to apologize to me, my pet. I ache to see you hurting so. We will deal with this, as we always do, but not until morning."
"I can just be drunk and sleepy and not think about it until morning?" she whispers, staring up at Loki with large, damp eyes.
"Yes, Eleanor. Close your eyes and before you know it we will be home, alright?"
She nods and manages a slight smile. "Will you kiss me?"
And he does.
Her eyes flicker closed by the time he shuts the door.
"Enjoying the show?" Loki asks as he turns away from the car, unsurprised to see Bragi lurking some fifteen paces away.
"bót mannaforráð," he says. "You are bonded."
"Indeed."
"This hardly seems like a punishment," Bragi says, stroking his ridiculous beard. "The bond does not explain the romantic nature of your relationship."
"No, it does not."
"There is no magic forcing her to be with you in this manner."
"None." Although, there are Loki's manipulations.
Bragi sighs, leaning against another vehicle. His shoulders are slouched and the posture is remarkably human. "Perhaps this is a positive."
"Oh? Your daughter is connected to a Jotunn monster and suddenly this is a positive?" Loki asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
Bragi never found the charm in Loki's mischief. Quite the opposite, really.
"Yes, well. Despite all that, you are unarguably powerful. Your magic surpasses even mine, and if you care for her as you appear to, than you will be able to protect her."
Loki stands a bit straighter, scrutinizing the god before him. "Protect her from what?"
Bragi sighs. "I know not. And I'd rather have this conversation when my daughter is not passed out from liquor consumption. That's an unattractive trait she received from me, I believe." He grins ruefully. "I was always a bit of a lush."
Loki does not respond.
"I am aware that this meeting did not go well and it is my doing. Perhaps in the morning Eleanor will agree to contact me? Do you have a cellular phone?" Bragi asks.
Loki blinks, overcome by how surreal this moment truly is. The most mysterious and ill-humored of his mother's relatives, a powerful being whose magic is nearly as powerful as Loki's, is asking to exchange telephone numbers.
"I do not," Loki says. There is no real need, not with Eleanor never more than two miles away. "But Eleanor does. If you give me your number I will pass it to her on the morrow."
Bragi chants out the ten digits and Loki wonders if his life could possibly be any more peculiar.
"I don't want to fucking do this," Eleanor mutters, slouching low in her seat at the diner and hiding behind her sunglasses.
It's way too fucking bright in here for her poor, hungover head.
"We can go, Eleanor. No one is forcing you to do this. Certainly not I." He sips his coffee and looks like he'd rather be anywhere else himself. She removes her sunglasses and rubs her temples. "Or we can delay this meeting. You only met him for the first time yesterday. There is no need to rush if you would rather give yourself time to adjust to the idea."
She slides over in the booth, pushing up against Loki. She lays her head on his shoulder, only wincing slightly at the movement.
"I just want to get this over with, sweetheart," she says. "And his cryptic little warning freaked you out."
"I am fine."
He is sitting beside her, ramrod straight, guzzling coffee, and tapping his fingers on the tabletop. Most telling of all, he is not leaning into her touch or trying to comfort her hangover at all. He is most definitely not fine.
"Do you think maybe the whole protection line he fed you last night was just a way to get me to talk to him?" Eleanor asks.
"It is entirely possible."
"I can't believe this dick is actually late. I don't like him, Loki."
"Nor do I."
"If he calls you a monster one more time I'm going to fucking lose it."
The bell above the door chimes and Eleanor peaks up from her position resting against Loki's shoulder to see the elusive Bragi stride into the diner with so much confidence and swagger that Eleanor is already annoyed.
He's shorter than Loki, but not by much, and he appears older too, but not as old as he should be. His blond hair is the same fucking shade as Eleanor's and only a few inches long. The short hair looks weird on an Asgardian, but not as bad as the scraggly beard. The flannel and jeans are pretty bizarre, too.
In all the years since she found out about her weird alien heritage, she never gave this much thought. Denial was much more comfortable than thinking about having a wayward father out there, doing who knows what. Every time Frigga visits she offers to tell Eleanor about her father, and every time Eleanor's said no.
All that denial was probably a mistake.
"This sucks, Loki."
"Indeed it does."
"Good morning," Bragi says, standing by the table and looking awkward. "Hello, Eleanor. I am your father."
She barely resists the urge to cover her ears and chant "la, la, la."
"Okay, yeah," she replies. "Let's just stick with Bragi because as far as I'm concerned, 'father' is an earned title."
Bragi frowns and clears his throat. "May I sit?"
"Yeah," she replies, very begrudgingly.
There is silence and staring. Eleanor pretends to read the menu. Loki guzzles his coffee and he doesn't even like coffee. Bragi just looks at her.
The waitress arrives. Eleanor orders eggs and hash browns. Loki just wants coffee. Bragi gets pancakes.
"You are beautiful," Bragi says, smiling softly.
"Okay, none of that either," she snaps, losing patience. "This is not a get to know you breakfast. There would be no breakfast at all, but I am hungover and starving and you freaked out my boyfriend last night."
"Betrothed," Loki corrects, because apparently that is something he is doing these days.
"I think you're an ass," Eleanor continues, ignoring the God of Fake Engagements. "So just tell us what you came to tell me in the first place and let me go back to pretending that you don't exist."
"I do not fully understand your ire," Bragi says. His expression can only be described as pouting.
"You knocked up my bio-mom and then left her to die in childbirth. You left me to the mercy of a couple of clueless mortals, who loved me but also lied to me. You are a selfish dick that just seems to flit around the universe with no concern for the lives you touch in the process. I don't hear from you in… How old am I?" she turns to ask Loki.
"Thirty-six," he replies.
"She knows not how many years she's lived?" asks Bragi.
"I don't hear from you for thirty-six years," she continues.
"Nearly thirty-seven," says Loki.
"And when you do show up with some cryptic bullshit concern for my safety, you repeatedly insult my favorite person," Eleanor says.
"I'm your favorite person?" Loki asks. "Darling, I'm touched."
"He's your favorite person?" Bragi asks with obvious disgust.
"I don't need a father," she says. "I don't need another flighty Asgardian in my life. Why are you here, dude? Just tell me."
Bragi starts messing with his hair and his gaze drops to the table. The mannerisms are a bit too familiar and Eleanor refuses to acknowledge that she might have anything at all in common with this world-jumping, bigoted prick.
"Do you dream, Eleanor?' he murmurs.
"What kind of fucked question is that? Of course I dream."
"Why?" says Loki, leaning forward in his seat. For the first time this morning he is actually taking some interest in the proceedings.
"Dreams can hold great meaning," Bragi says.
"Eleanor dreams of her father, often," Loki says.
"Really?" Bragi asks, beaming like a moron.
"You are a moron," Eleanor tells him. "My real father. As in, the man that raised me. Harrison Tate."
"Oh." Bragi shakes his head twice as if to clear it. "And what is the nature of these dreams?"
"I relive his fucking death, okay? What the fuck are we doing here?"
"You are very profane," mutters Bragi. "Why do you feel the need to curse with such great frequency?"
"Holy fuck nuts," says Eleanor, hiding her face in her hands.
"What of these dreams?" demands Loki.
"When you dream of the man who raised you, these dreams are in no way prophetic you mean to say?" Bragi asks.
"Prophetic?" repeats Loki.
"Eleanor appears to have a musical ability similar to mine. Does she also have magic?" Bragi asks Loki. Eleanor does not appreciate the way he talks about her as if she's not even here.
"Yes," Eleanor says. "So what?"
"I thought perhaps in addition to my music and my magic she garnered also my dreams of a sibylline nature," Bragi says a bit too loudly.
A couple of farmer-looking types glance over them warily. Eleanor scowls until they drop their gazes.
"I can't remember ever dreaming about something that came true," she says. "Why the fuck are you here?"
At this most inopportune of times, their food arrives. Eleanor doesn't even glance down as the mouthwatering spread is placed in front of her, waiting for the God of Song to answer her question.
Bragi starts eating his pancakes methodically.
She grumbles under her breath and thinks about screaming at the man until he finally spits out whatever the fuck he found her to say, but this whole conversation will be slightly less horrible with food in her belly.
So she eats. Loki steals her toast and half her eggs.
Eleanor stares at Bragi's plate as he cuts his pancakes into perfect little squares. He gets one square on each prong of his fork and then douses the whole thing in syrup before carefully placing the food in his mouth. It's some pretty strange behavior and Eleanor is overly fascinated by the whole process, watching him be a freak even after her meal is gone.
"My dreams tell me something wicked this way comes," Bragi says, trying to lick syrup from his beard. "You are involved somehow."
"What comes?" snarls Loki, banging a fist on the tabletop and making the dishes clatter. "How is Eleanor involved?"
She is too shocked by the statement to comfort Loki.
"Something dark," Bragi says, squinting. "Something powerful. It is done biding its time and it will consume the universe. Eleanor starts it."
"Starts what?" she whispers. Although she resolved to not believe a word that comes out of the song god's vile mouth, his resigned, assured tone has her freaked.
"The end of all things light, Eleanor," he says. In this moment Bragi is sad and tired. For the first time, Eleanor is curious about her bio-daddy. She wants to know where he's been.
Loki's face is blank, but she can feel his rapidly growing anxiety.
"So what else? When is this big scary thing going down, and what do I do to start it?" Eleanor asks.
"I know not."
"How do I stop it?"
"I know not."
"Is this even the real deal?"
"It is. I am sure of it."
"Why should we believe you?"
"I know not."
With a frustrated growl, Eleanor clenches her fists and resists the urge to leap across the table to strangle the man.
"Do you know anything at all?" she asks, grinding her teeth together.
"I know you are in danger," he says.
"Why me?" Eleanor asks. "I haven't done anything. I'm not important."
"Is it me?" whispers Loki. His expression is unfathomable and Eleanor takes his hand under the table. His grip is a little too tight. She runs her thumb over her knuckles. "It must be me. I brought Eleanor to the attention of dangerous beings. She would be safe and ignorant if not for me."
"It is possible," Bragi says, shrugging and combing her fingers through his ridiculously scraggly beard.
"Loki, come on," she says when he jerks his hand away. She can see the self-flagellation in his expression. "It's not your fault."
"It is! I selfishly decided to stay here, with you, knowing full well that my immensely powerful enemies would one day seek to punish me for my colossal failure. Even before that, while still in the bunker, I exposed you! I saw you in the Void, Eleanor, suspended and tortured beyond reason, unmade, remade into something unrecognizable. And even knowing what I know, even with those images seared into my mind, I willingly put you in danger by simply choosing to remain at your side."
By the end of his speech Loki's breathing is ragged and Eleanor would probably be tearing up if her giant weirdo of an absentee bio-dad wasn't watching them, continuing to fiddle with his beard.
"Excellent choice in paramours, Daughter," says Bragi.
"You can just shut the fuck up," Eleanor says to Bragi before turning back to Loki. It's been a long time since he's had a panic attack and they'd both like to keep the streak going. "Loki, you are jumping to the worst possible conclusion. This is all bullshit. Look at this weirdo. Did you see how he ate his pancakes? There is no way that anything this clown says is remotely believable," she says, placing a palm over his heart.
"I speak the truth," says Bragi.
"This is my doing," Loki mutters, picking at his left hand with his right. His eyes dart wildly, not really seeing anything.
"Possibly," Bragi agrees, remarkably unperturbed by the whole situation. "Although unlikely. I have a much more plausible theory."
"You couldn't have led with that?" Eleanor asks, glaring across the table as Loki calms fractionally. "What is wrong with you?"
"Your theory," Loki snaps. "Now."
"It's her magic," Bragi says as if it is as simple and obvious as that. "Even on Asgard, magic is a rare gift."
"Really?" Eleanor asks, turning to Loki. He nods, giving weary confirmation.
"For the majority of your life, you were the most powerful being on Midgard," says Bragi, being completely serious. Eleanor blinks at him. "Even if you did not know it, you are of Asgard. Not only this, but you have magic. Until the arrival of your treacherous companion, you were the most powerful being in this realm."
"Most powerful?" Eleanor says with a laugh. She thinks of a hulked out Dr. Banner. "Yeah, okay."
"The potential is there, and this darkness, whatever it is, has sensed you and it will seek you out, for your life force is stronger than the mortals here." Bragi sounds sad and serious.
"Can we go?" Eleanor asks turning to Loki. She is so completely done.
"Tell me everything," Loki says, leaning over the table and glaring at Eleanor's bio-daddy. Bragi looks a bit taken aback to see how thoroughly threatening Loki can be, but he nods once and tells Loki everything.
There is not much to it.
The man's so-called prophetic dreams seem like a lot of crap to Eleanor, but Loki listens with rapt attention, his jaw clenching tighter and tighter as Bragi describes feelings and colors and absolutely nothing helpful.
"Red and black," says Bragi. "Red and black. The universe will end in darkness."
"You want me to totally change our life here for these cryptic as fuck feelings you have?" Eleanor asks, arms firmly crossed over her chest.
"Yes," says Bragi, as if he is being totally reasonable.
"And what exactly would you have me do to not start the end of the world?" she asks.
"All the worlds," Bragi corrects. "Come with me. I can keep you safe. Keep you hidden."
"No," Eleanor replies.
"You must at least consider—"
"I'm good here, thanks."
"But surely you do not trust this monster to—"
"I'm done," Eleanor says, turning to Loki again. He obliges her this time, sliding out of the booth and wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he leads her out of the restaurant.
Bragi trails behind, pleading with Eleanor to listen, but she is too angry.
"He can come with us!" Bragi says, getting in front of them as they approach the Jeep. "He'll have to, as you are bonded. Although, that might cause a whole new round of dangers as the places I know to hide can be easily accessed by this one's enemies. Thanos wants you, does he not?"
Loki goes pale and rigid at the name.
"Fuck off!" Eleanor shouts. "I don't trust you. I'm not going anywhere with you because you had a weird dream. Fuck off. And don't you fucking dare stay in touch."
Bragi gives a beseeching look to Loki. It's the equivalent of "talk some sense into your hysterical woman," and if Eleanor didn't hate the God of Song before, she does now.
"Call me on my cellular phone if you reconsider," says Bragi, frowning and backing away. "Get her some place safe, Loki. Some place safe."
He turns and leaves. Eleanor relaxes slightly.
"Some place safe," Loki echoes.
"Eleanor," he says gently when they get home, closing the front door behind him.
She does not want gentle, and she violently rips off her scarf, followed by her jacket. The items are discarded on the floor as she stomps to the kitchen, going immediately to the liquor cabinet. The whiskey bottle is not nearly as full as she'd like it to be, but she unscrews the lid and tips it back to her mouth anyway.
Loki confiscates the alcohol after three gulps and Eleanor tries very hard not to growl at him.
"Eleanor," he says, shaking his head at her and frowning.
"Give it back."
Loki rolls his eyes. He waves a hand over the bottle and it disappears.
"Bring it back!"
"Eleanor, we must discuss this," he says, placing his hands on each of her shoulders. He's got his intense, serious face on and Eleanor really wants the booze back.
"We are not going to discuss the ravings of a lunatic," Eleanor replies, glowering up at him. "This guy is no one to us, Loki. You might have known him a billiondy years ago and he might have spawned me, but he's nothing. I mean really, let's just think about the way he ate his pancakes."
Loki actually cracks a smile and Eleanor doesn't want the whiskey anymore. She cradles his face in her hands.
"It was super weird," she says.
"It was."
"He is super weird."
"A bit odd, yes."
"There is absolutely no reason to trust this guy. He abandoned me and left my bio-mommy to die birthing me. Where were his prophetic dreams before, huh? Like when you kidnapped me? You'd think a concerned parent would have made an appearance for something like that," Eleanor says.
Loki winces. "I truly am sorry for that."
"I know," she says, wincing herself as she pats his cheek. She did not intend to make him feel worse. "That's not the point. The point is, the guy is the very definition of unreliable. There is no reason for us to trust him, okay?"
Loki sighs and messages her shoulders.
"So let's just not worry about any of this. Let's not worry about anything until there is something to really worry about."
Loki sighs again, his head jerking fractionally. It might have been a nod.
"Okay?" she says again.
"Okay," he murmurs. His smile is almost bashful and he looks so young. It makes her heart hurt.
"That was my bio-dad," she says, groaning. "Gross."
"Indeed," Loki agrees.
"Can I have the whiskey back?"
"Absolutely not," he says, scowling again.
"Well, then I guess you're just going to have to fuck me until I can't even remember my own name."
He obliges her.
When Loki is rudely torn from sleep, he thinks it is a result of a dream, his dream.
Although the nightmares plague him with much less frequency than they once did, the memories haunt him still on occasion, and after the stress of the previous day it is not wholly surprising that they return to him now.
He stares at the ceiling for a few moments, but through the fog of lost sleep there is no panic festering in his chest, only confusion. He recalls no dreams. Typically he has the opposite experience and is unable to banish the memories of horror from his mind.
An elbow flails into his ribs and he turns to scold his songbird for invading his space in such a violent manner, but a terrified, helpless whimper escapes her lips.
The sound makes him despair and for a moment he can do nothing but gape down at her, taking in the way her limbs shake. Behind her lids, eyes are twitching.
Two days previous, Eleanor's nightmares would be mildly disturbing but she would wake for him to kiss away her demons and perhaps tease her until she once more smiles.
In light of Bragi's revelations, her dreams spell doom.
She whimpers once more, spurring him into action.
"Eleanor!" he shouts, shaking her out of her nightmare. Beneath his hands her skin is clammy and he can breathe once more when Eleanor's blue eyes fly open.
For a heart-stopping moment Eleanor recoils. The fear in her eyes reminds him of how she once looked at him, all those years ago when he was so determined to rule this miserable realm.
But then her vision clears. She lets out a muffled cry and drops her forehead to his shoulder. Loki cradles her head and strokes her back as he whispers soothing words.
"You are safe with me, Eleanor. You are safe. I will protect you always."
Slowly she is able to calm her quaking form, and when she pulls back her terror is replaced by a look of embarrassment.
"Silly, I know," she says, attempting a smile. For a moment he wonders if she finds his night terrors silly. "It wasn't like your nightmares. It wasn't a memory. Just a dream."
He scoffs.
Just a dream.
This is one of Eleanor's more ludicrous mortal notions and it is extremely vexing that she maintains this perspective even after their conversation with her father the previous morning.
Dreams are of great import. He knew this long before the appearance of Bragi, and Loki finds it both annoying and worrisome to hear Eleanor state otherwise.
She dismisses the gravity of dreams, yet he is sick with worry.
"Just a dream," she murmurs again.
"I will be the judge of that." He snaps at her without intending to, and he feels like the heartless Jotunn bastard he is when she frowns slightly. Despite his cruelty, Eleanor allows him to stroke her cheek, just as she always does. "Tell me of your dream," he requests, gentle now. "Was it your father?"
"I…" she starts. "I was scared. Someone was there, hissing. Or maybe it was laughter? Or a different language? But I couldn't see where it was coming from. I couldn't see anything and the darkness was crushing me. I didn't think darkness like that was possible. I was cold and all alone and then you woke me up."
It is very little information and he spends a few minutes interrogating her for more until she lets out a groan and hides her head beneath a pillow.
Loki tries to calm his racing heart, for this could be a coincidence. Eleanor does experience nightmares. They are rare, far rarer than Loki's own nighttime horrors, but she does have them.
And Loki stopped truly believing in coincidence the moment he found Eleanor, the only other alien in a realm full of seven billon mortals.
It is impossible not to think of the darkness and loneliness of the Void, given all she just said.
In her description of the nightmare, she gives him back his own painful memory. Loki relives the crushing blackness that pressed upon him for lifetimes, and the acceptance that he would be alone for the rest of his days, and the ardent wish that those days would be few.
And the laughter, chilling and strange, always a sign of the pain to come.
It is a struggle to keep his face impassive as Eleanor peeks up at him from beneath the pillow. It is a struggle to keep from frightening her before he knows more.
He holds enough fear for the pair of them, so much so that he is choking on it.
Was the terror in the Void this sharp? This potent?
No, in the Void he had naught to lose.
Bragi, Loki's enemies, Eleanor's nightmare: is there any conceivable way these factors could be unrelated?
"Freaky, huh?" Eleanor asks, readjusting to lie back down on the proper side of the pillow, blinking up at him with big blue eyes.
"Indeed." Loki barely manages the word through his clenched jaw.
She places a tiny hand on his pale stomach and Loki lies down as well, wrapping his arm around her rather than pacing around the bedroom as his legs are aching to do.
He knows not what it means.
Perhaps this not knowing is the most terrifying aspect of the situation, second only to the thought of Eleanor trapped in the Void, lost and suffering. Whatever this dream may mean, whatever Bragi's dreams may mean, it is Loki's doing.
Despite Bragi's personal theory that apparently absolves Loki of guilt, this must be Loki's fault. Truthfully, he always knew that one day his past would harm Eleanor, but he thought they'd have many more years.
He saw a future with her in the Void, trapped and alone in the place that haunts him still. The Tesseract showed him this possibility but he will not allow it to occur.
Loki is such a danger to her, but the damage is done and he will stay with her as long as she'll have him. If he were a good man – if he were Thor – he would have exchanged a life with Eleanor for a century of solitude because her life would be much improved if he left her long ago.
After the torment of the Void, a mere century alone should be passed with ease but he could not give her up. He would quite literally lose his mind once more.
All that aside, it is too late for such selflessness. Separation will not keep her safe. Perhaps it was too late when the Other got a glimpse of her in the bunker all those years ago. Perhaps he damned her the moment he plucked her off the street, or even before, the very moment he approached her in that crowded entertainment venue after hearing her voice for the first time.
It is done. She is damned. Loki will not leave her now, nor will he allow her to be stolen from him.
"Loki," she says, shaking him from his progressively more violent thoughts. "Too tight."
He releases her immediately, appalled to have caused her pain even as he vowed to protect her. Eleanor stays pressed into his chest, bringing his arms around her once more.
"There," she murmurs, settling once more. "Perfect."
She is quiet for a long time, her slumber returning.
Loki cannot sleep. It is likely that Loki will never sleep again, not when Eleanor's dream could so easily become a reality. Not without knowing what to make of Bragi's cryptic warnings.
The Other knows of her. He knows of her. They will come for him and they will use Eleanor to do so. He simply expected to have more time to devise a plan.
"It has nothing do to with Bragi's dreams," Eleanor murmurs, apparently still awake. "I'm sure of it. Meeting him just freaked me out. That's all."
Loki stays silent.
"Did it remind you of your dreams?" Eleanor asks.
Loki nods.
"That's what you dream of? Of it being dark and you being alone?"
"Among other equally unpleasant things."
"But for you it was real."
"Enough, Eleanor."
"It wasn't anything, Loki. All that talk of darkness and everything had me on edge. Please don't make this a big thing."
Loki huffs. At times Eleanor is entirely too stupid for his liking.
"You think it's more than that," she mutters.
And more often she is far too perceptive for her own good. "I do not know what it is. This is what I find so concerning."
"I'm fine, Loki," she says. "I'm sure I won't have another dream like that and I've never had one before."
Except that is not entirely true. She woke up screaming for him on the morning he morphed their miniscule hut into a dwelling more suitable for his beautiful songbird.
And before that he watched her flesh melt away, heard her voice give out, in countless dreams of his own.
And then Bragi, with his certainty that something destructive is upon them soon and Eleanor is at the start of it.
How could all that possibly be a meaningless coincidence only?
He so desperately wants to believe that dreams are just dreams.
Still, in the morning he will cloak her in every protective speak he knows. He will make her mind even more of a fortress than it already is, continuing the work he saw Bragi perform in the Tesseract. He will never let her out of his sight, despite the two and more miles their bond can now be stretched.
"Loki," she says, touching his jaw and offering him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine. I'm fine."
Yesterday when they arrived home from breakfast with Bragi, he allowed her to convince him of this. Now it is not so easy to believe.
Thanks for reading! We're jumping right in, here.
1st beta: Heather
Final beta: Erica