Ah, everyone is so lovely about the CT situation. Seriously, you guys are the best ones. The wrists are doing alright, but it is slow going to I figured I'd give you a packed chapter!
My betas are also the best ones.
First beta: Heather
Final beta: Erica
Part II: In the Dark
Chapter 18: Good to be King
In his dream, Eleanor is smiling at him.
This is how he knows, without doubt, that the image is in his mind only, for in the months since he took up the crown Eleanor has not smiled. At least not at him, not like that.
For the children she is teaching to play instruments, for Sigyn the Healer who is assisting with medical care for the displaced, even for Sif in the training yard, Eleanor gives them smiles, but certainly not Loki.
Worst of all is Odin.
So he decides to enjoy this dream while it lasts.
It becomes much easier to do so when Eleanor smirks and begins to move lower, lips and teeth and tongue moving down his bare chest until she takes him in her mouth.
It takes him longer than it should to realize it is not, in fact, a dream. He is unsure what fully wakes him, the warm pleasure from her mouth or his own embarrassingly pathetic whimpers, but when he opens his eyes it is to see Eleanor between his legs, staring intently at him.
"Eleanor." Voice hoarse, he reaches out to cradle her head between his hands, but she snaps her fingers and he finds his hands forced up, stuck to the headboard. "Eleanor!" he scolds.
He struggles fruitlessly for a moment and knows that he could undo this magic with his own, but then she might stop. It truly might kill him, if Eleanor were to stop, and from the look on her face she is well aware of this fact.
By some miracle, Eleanor does to not stop and Loki holds off as long as he is able. So desperate is he for his wife, he is resolved to make this last and last. Touching her would be preferable and after nearly two months of stony silences and blank stares, what she does now is divine, but in all honesty he would rather kiss her.
Loki closes his eyes and imagines that Eleanor is smiling at him, but she stops suddenly, not starting again until he looking at her, pleading with her. She won't let him forget the reality of the situation, nor does she let him draw it out any longer.
When it is woefully over, Eleanor keeps him prisoner long enough for her to escape to the bathroom untouched.
"What was that?" he demands.
She pauses in the entryway, glancing over her shoulder. Her gaze is greedy and he desperately wants her to come back.
Instead she shrugs. "I don't know. Just felt like it, I guess."
"You wouldn't happen to feel like a great deal more, would you?" he asks.
For one moment Eleanor looks extremely tempted but then her face falls. "You are already going to be late for your first meeting of the day."
"But, my sweet songbird—"
"You've got a fucking realm to rule." And then she slams the door behind her as she locks herself away in the bathroom.
His hands are free and he falls back to his pillows, beyond frustrated and unable to determine if this bizarre and wonderful little morning interlude was a good sign or bad.
"We are not here to discuss Princess Eleanor's duties," Loki says. He allows himself a moment to slump down in his seat and rub his temples before mimicking Odin's rigid posture once more.
"But, your majesty, she makes decisions without approval of the counsel. It is presumptuous!"
"Not to mention she is merely the widow of a disgraced prince, and a half mortal as well."
"She acts as though she were queen. It is unacceptable."
These are not new arguments and Loki has even less patience for them now than he did when all this first came up with his wife's creation of the City of Tents. He will not listen to them again.
"Silence!" Loki booms, using Odin's voice that never fails to command respect. "She has my permission to do whatever she sees fit to accommodate those who remain without homes since the attack. She is the only surviving member of the royal family remaining on Asgard and she speaks with my full authority. I will not hear another word on it."
His statement is met with head nods and Loki contains his smirk as he basks in their subservience.
"Now," he says as he lets the silence stretch for several uncomfortable moments. "The matter of restoring the Shield of Gold around the palace. We lack the minerals needed to accomplish this, yes? Any more suggestions to circumvent this issue?"
It takes him no time at all to locate Eleanor in the large central tent where the displaced gather for meals and meetings.
Weeks ago, Eleanor organized child care to allow parents the spare time to get their affairs in order without the burden of watching their progeny. On every third day the princess spends a few hours with the homeless children, teaching them to play various instruments or to sing popular Midgardian children's songs to lift spirits.
Today it appears that Eleanor is giving more of an impromptu concert than lessons of any sort. Loki's wife sits on the ground with a guitar in her lap, surrounded by children and their discarded instruments.
Her voice fills the cavernous tent and her song is simple and melancholy, but soothing. Adults have gathered as well, sitting on benches or standing between the tables where meals are served thrice daily. Eleanor enraptures them. They listen with a quiet reverence as she adds both the piano and the violin to the song.
"Beautiful," murmurs a nearby wife to her husband as Eleanor focuses on the violin, shifting seamlessly into An Ashokan Farewell, one of Loki's personal favorites. "We are fortunate she elected to stay after the death of the dark prince. There must have been good in him, for one such as that to love the Frost Giant."
Loki moves away, unwilling to hear more. The crowd parts for him, bowing as they let him pass before once more focusing on Eleanor. She begins a new song. It is more upbeat than the last, and the children clap and sing along, delighted by the familiar selection. He's heard Eleanor sing it with them before.
She catches sight of him, and her eyes go wide with horror. Loki recoils, thinking her disgusted by his presence. He relaxes slightly as he recognizes the concern in her gaze instead. Eleanor carefully gauges the reactions of those standing near him and never misses a note.
She graces the displaced with her voice for another half an hour before promising to return in several days and reminding the children to practice.
Eleanor rises and makes slow progress towards Loki, stopped every few feet by grateful parents. He's never seen her appear more royal as she graciously accepts their thanks and praise, maintaining a separation and aloofness befitting her station.
Never did he dream that his crude, stubborn songbird would become such an asset.
When she finally reaches his side he quickly leads her out of the tent with a hand on the small of her back.
"You don't look like Odin," she whispers as they trek through the snow, back to the palace.
"Pardon?"
"You look like Loki."
Alarmed for a moment, he looks down at his hands, relaxing when they are withered and stubby rather than smooth and elegant. "This is the reason you were so scared when you caught sight of me," he says.
Eleanor nods.
"I thought…" Loki attempts to continue and clears his throat. "I know not what I thought."
Eleanor sighs, apparently understanding what he means to communicate even when he himself does not.
"Look," she says, pulling her cloak a bit tighter around her shoulders. "I know I've been pissed lately."
"May I remind you that you agreed to this, Eleanor," he says, rather pissed himself.
"I know. I know I did, but I don't like it. Still, I can't deny that you are giving Asgard what it needs right now."
"Thank you," he replies, voice gruff. He tries to hide the extent of what her words mean to him. "As are you."
She shrugs. "I like kids. Normally they do the music, but morale was low. Maybe it's the weather. Me singing just sort of happened."
"You are loved by the people. I'm not sure you understand the power in that, given most thought you an abomination only a few short years ago."
This truth causes Eleanor discomfort and she fiddles with her hair, unable to braid it with her hands trapped in mittens. "I'm sure plenty still think I'm an abomination."
"If I hear such talk, the guilty will find themselves without tongues."
Eleanor sighs again and they walk in silence for a few moments. His wife slips on a patch of snow and he catches her, but must immediately let her go for he wears Odin's face.
"It is the bond, I believe," says Loki. "That is what allows you to see through my illusions. Like with Thor after the funeral."
This is the lengthiest conversation they've had in months and he finds himself somewhat desperate for her words.
"I'm glad," she says. "I hate seeing you as Odin. It is super creepy."
They share small, shy smiles as they enter the palace and then linger at the base of the magnificent double staircase where Eleanor will go left towards the true Odin and Loki will go right to the throne room.
"I'm not going to be mad forever," she whispers as to not be overheard. "This is just a rough patch. I'm trying not to be so pissed and soon I'll get over it. I'm still with you. When I promised you forever I meant it."
She turns on her heel and climbs the left staircase.
Loki wants soon to be now, but is still comforted by her words.
When they retire to their rooms for the evening – Loki taking the roundabout path from Odin's tower through the hidden passage as to avoid suspicion – there is no anger and disapproval conveyed with only Eleanor's expressive face. Instead they share a supper complete with quiet conversation, sharing the events of their separate days.
After the meal they sit side by side in bed, reading with the fire warming their chambers. Eleanor falls asleep first, her head on his shoulder. When he extinguishes the light, he wraps himself around his wife and is at peace.
Eleanor can adapt to nearly any situation.
This is both a strength – she is a survivor – and a weakness – she is too accepting of the things she doesn't want.
She adapted to a life lived completely cut off from friends and family when she was a lonely, starving musician. She was miserable but didn't even notice.
She did it again as a prisoner in Loki's bunker.
Although she chose life in New Mexico, it was still one of the very few options SHIELD allowed her.
The move to Asgard was certainly not something she wanted nor were any of Loki's life-changing decisions since their arrival here.
He wears Odin's face and has so far done an excellent job seeing Asgard through such a traumatic moment of rebuilding. Eleanor agreed to this, but she's still angry.
Most of her anger is directed inward at herself but she takes it out on Loki. Her actions are a bit unfair, as he is the one that got them into this with the ridiculous decision to fake his death and let Thor go back to Midgard. But that isn't the crux of her anger.
It is not his fault that she cannot accurately determine what she wants her life to be.
She liked New Mexico and she liked Princess Lessons with Frigga here on Asgard. And there is a lot about this current life with Loki on the throne that she likes too. She has purpose. She is doing valuable and lasting good.
But she feels like clay, weak and malleable. She is without opinions. She is whatever she needs to be in the moment to survive with no thoughts to change her circumstance.
So Loki becomes king and Eleanor soulsearches, trying to determine what she truly wants.
The list is simple.
She wants to help, so she does, setting up programs in the tent city to make rebuilding a bit easier on the disheartened population.
She wants music, so she teaches children to play and delights in singing with them.
She wants friends, so she spends her time with Sif and getting to know Sigyn.
She wants Loki, so when she wakes up for the first time in months with Loki wrapped around her back, she smiles and pushes back into his chest. His breath is warm on her neck and she brings his fingertips to her lips.
"Eleanor," he mumbles.
"Good morning."
"Sleep on, my love. It is far too early."
Disregarding his advice, she lays her head on his shoulder and takes the opportunity to study his profile.
"Does this mean that you are no longer angry with me?" he whispers into her temple. Eyes closed, still sleepy, he almost manages to appear the picture of peace, but there is tension in his jaw. Eleanor knows these last months have been hard on him as he tries to rebuild Asgard without her emotional support, and despite everything, she truly does believe that she is his highest priority.
"I'm still kinda mad," she replies. Loki lets out a big breath. "I'm going to have purpose here, okay? I'm going to take up Frigga's duties and I'm going to teach little kids to play instruments and I'm going to have girlfriends. I know those asshole advisers don't like it, but I'm not okay with a life where I just hang out in the sewing rooms and look pretty at fancy state affairs."
"Good," says Loki with much more conviction that she was expecting. "I would have it no other way. And caring for the people is not a strength of mine. This is a capacity you excel in."
Eleanor grins. "Are you saying you need me?"
"Always."
Pleased, she cuddles a bit closer.
"In all but title you are queen, Eleanor." It's nothing she hasn't thought herself in the last two months, but the responsibility of it, the immensity of it, will never not freak her out. "It is not just I who needs you, but the people too."
"I'm a little less mad now," she says. "Although I still say eventually this whole thing is going to blow up in your face."
"Then I suggest we make the most of it until then. Would you care to go away with me?"
She sits up, ignoring her husband's grumbled protest. "Go away where?"
"It's tradition on Midgard for the recently wed to go on a celebratory vacation, is it not?"
"A honeymoon? Over a year of marriage and you want to go on a honeymoon?"
"Is that not right?" he asks, blinking up at her, confused and adorable. "There is a hunting lodge, in the mountains."
"You want to take me hunting on a late honeymoon?"
"No," he says, rolling his eyes. "You would slay something and then you would feel bad and then there would be tears. I have no desire to fake comfort in such a situation. But it is beautiful. I know you like to wander around in nature. And there are heated pools. Hot springs. We both are in dire need of relaxation, given what life has been like these last years."
She would very much like to leave this moment. "Don't you have ruling to do?
"The kingdom will keep for several days."
"And what about Odin."
Loki winces. "Bring him."
"Do you recall, when we wed, deciding to wait a century to discuss children?" he asks, curling a strand of hair around his forefinger.
"Yeah, obviously I remember." She pauses her vigil over Odin where he splashes in a stream ten yards away to side eye her husband.
"This is not what I had in mind."
She blinks at him for a moment before she gets it. "You are saying that Odin, that king who raised you, is our child," Eleanor says, raising an eyebrow.
Loki snorts. "Your child, perhaps. Regardless, it is an apt comparison. You deliver his meals, provide him with activities, and take him outside."
Eleanor rolls her eyes and leans into his side. After months of simmering in her anger it is a relief to just be content with him, sharing a picnic as they make slow progress towards the mountains.
"You did this to him," she says. For once, Eleanor is not enraged as she discusses the events immediately following the convergence. "And I don't mind taking care of him, but you can't get pissy with me for caring about him. He's rather sweet."
"Eleanor!"
"I'm not asking you to forgive him or even empathize, but don't be a dick either, okay?"
"I suppose these terms are acceptable." He kisses her before she can extoll any more of Odin's virtues and continues to do so until the Allfather himself joins them on the blankets, demanding lunch. They pack up and are on horseback within the hour, arriving at the hunting lodge in the mountains before nightfall.
"Come along."
She peeks around the edge of the mountain, where the stone path switches back abruptly and the railing ends. Wind whips her hair around her head and she really shouldn't have let Loki steal her hair tie before they left the luxurious "lodge" that is really more rustic castle than anything. Below her is a several hundred-foot drop and Eleanor hugs the side of the mountain, pulling her eyes from the drop off to glare at Loki.
Her husband's laugh is stolen by the wind. "Do not look at me like I've once more lost my sanity," he shouts, extending a hand. "You jumped from an aircraft to a boat while under attack. What a strange time to develop a fear of heights."
"There's no railing!' she shrieks, her legs rubber and shaking.
"It's a mere twenty paces from here to the entrance of the cave," he says, wrapping his fingers around her wrist even as she pushes herself back into the sheer sheet of rock.
"Yeah, twenty fucking paces on the razor edge of a fucking mountain!"
"You have superb balance."
"It's windy as fuck."
"What does this even mean? As fuck? What is fuck?"
"Loki!"
Sighing heavily and looking to the sky for patience, Loki pulls her arms around his waist, her front flush against his back.
"Do you trust me?"
"Yes," she says, squeezing him as if with enough pressure she'll be able to crawl into his body, to stay safe and out of the wind. "Mostly."
"Close your eyes," he murmurs. "Walk as I walk."
They move forward slowly and when they round the sharp turn the wind picks up. Eleanor keeps her eyes shut and whimpers into Loki's back, but the trip is laughably short and abruptly the climate turns from dry and windy to downright tropical. Stepping away from Loki, she looks around the large cavern, barely believing her eyes. Even after all these years living in the world of magic, there are still sights that stun her.
When Loki said hot spring and cave, he was underselling. Paradise and Shangri La would have been more apt descriptions.
The cavern is it's own world of heat and color and light. Lush green plants and brilliant flowers in every imaginable color surround pools of crystalline, cerulean water. Sunlight shines down through cracks in stone in jagged patches, creating patterns of light and shadow. Several steaming waterfalls feed the pools and the air is heavy with heat and moisture.
"Worth it?" Loki asks, smirking as she takes it all in.
"Um." She clears her throat and grins at her husband. "Fuck yeah."
Loki laughs, the sound reverberating around the cavern like bells.
"Hot springs? A cave? Terrible description, Loki, " she says, pulling her tunic over her head and kicking off her boots.
"I wanted you surprised."
"Well done," she says, continuing to strip down to the gold bikini.
"What is that?" Loki says, eyeing her swimwear with disgust.
"You don't like it?" she asks, glancing down at the ridiculously tiny suit. "Really? I mean, there is like no fabric. You really don't like it?"
"No."
She glares at him. "Is there something else I should be wearing instead?"
Loki smirks again and snaps his fingers. Suddenly he is completely naked before her and her eyes go wide. "No," he says.
Now it's her laughter that tinkles around the great space and she snaps her fingers too, making herself as naked as Loki. He lurches towards her but Eleanor takes off, running over soft moss to the nearest pool and cannonballing into the clear water.
After diving to the bottom of the deep pool and splashing around for a bit like giddy children, they find a shallower pool with smooth stone benches built into the sides and have sex in it. It's the most fun she's had since before Frigga was murdered, before Loki traded his freedom for her safety, before Bragi forced his way into her life with his terrifying dreams.
For the first time in a long time there is laughter and pleasure in abundance. She straddles his waist, one hand gripping the edge of the pool for leverage, the other digging into his shoulder. The warm water makes their movements fluid and she looks him right in the eye the whole time, grinning and groaning and sighing.
Eleanor gives herself permission to enjoy.
"I love you," Loki says, lips moving against hers as they both attempt to catch their breath after a most satisfying conclusion.
Eleanor sighs and cannot imagine being happier than she is in this perfect moment.
Eventually, Loki hauls her out of the shallow pool, pulling her under a warm waterfall where she scrubs at her hair, conjuring some shampoo to make it count. They explore a bit more, Loki sharing his knowledge on the flora unique to this one spot in all twenty-seven realms. She teases him for his encyclopedia-type brain but then insists he tell her the history of this place.
They find another pool, this one the temperature of a hot tub rather than a warm bath. Eleanor groans as she sinks into it and reaches up to braid her hair around her head like a crown.
"I've run into a bit of a problem," Loki says, pulling her foot into his lap and massaging it absently.
"Oh?" It seems nothing could kill her joy right now. She hopes Loki doesn't try.
"The Shield of Gold," he mutters.
"That big sphere that went up around the palace during the attack? Clever name."
"Indeed. It was completely destroyed by that damnable beast. He scorched it, making not even the materials usable," Loki says. When he frowns Eleanor knows he's thinking of the much more precious thing the creature stole. His fingers dig into her arch and it hurts a bit.
"Uh oh."
"Indeed," Loki says. "Uh oh, indeed. This was an ancient device, predating even Bor, even Bor's grandfather."
"Can you rebuild it?"
"We have the knowledge, but not the materials."
She finishes braiding and sits up a bit straighter. "Can you get the materials?"
"Perhaps," he says, very carefully.
"Just spit it out. What are you plotting?"
"It's not plotting," he snaps. "It's ruling."
"Loki."
"The materials required to rebuild are unique to Jotunheim, mined leagues beneath the icy surface."
She slumps back against the side of the pool. "Damn."
"Exactly," Loki says with a chuckle. "For the past two weeks I've been presented with proposal after proposal for alternatives from the very best in Asgard, but they all fall far short of the original model."
"So you want the original."
"Yes, although the possibility has not yet been discussed. This is the first time I am verbalizing the option."
"And what exactly is the option?" she asks, her heart sinking. "Invade Jotunheim? Take what you want?"
Loki sighs. "It would be the easiest course of action, but I knew you would disapprove."
"Damn right, I disapprove." She pulls her foot from his grip and crosses her arms over her chest. At some point, if he keeps going the way he's going, it will be too much, he'll push her too far, and she'll either be forced to turn into someone she doesn't like or leave. She wonders if colonizing his native world will do it.
"Calm yourself, Eleanor," he says, rubbing his temples. "I will not do this. Mostly for you, but also because between the years of chaos following the destruction of the Bifrost and the attack from the elves, Asgard has have quite enough of war. And so have I."
She melts with relief and puts her feet back in his lap. "So what are you thinking, then?"
"Something that will cause quite the stir."
"Yeah?" she asks, liking the idea of anything that challenges the elite Aesir.
"Trade," he says. "Assistance in rebuilding what I destroyed with the Bifrost all those years ago, help feeding their large destitute population in exchange for the minerals required for reconstructing the Shield of Gold."
"I like it."
"Yes," he says, smiling. "Now if only convincing my advisers, many of whom lived thought the last war, would be so easy."
After a mere four days spent in the mountains, they reluctantly return to the capitol. Odin gets settled in his tower, perfectly happy to be returned home. After a long day on horseback and the prospect of all there is to do tomorrow, it is a relief to lay down with Loki in their bed and close her eyes.
Approximate four seconds later, Neela is banging on the door, announcing that Thor and his mortal are waiting in the throne room.
"You look really good," Jane says when Eleanor opens the door to the second late night visitor in the last half hour.
She throws her arms around Jane. Last she saw her friend they were in a cave on the Dark World, Jane off to save the world and Eleanor in a state of total shock.
"Hi," says Jane, returning the hug.
"Hi." There are a few tears in her eyes and she brushes them away when Jane lets go a moment later. "Come in."
"So, how are you?" Jane asks, her face a picture of sorrow and concern. "You look good. Like… too good."
Eleanor shrugs. "I'm doing better. As good as can be expected, I guess."
"Is this... Were these Loki's rooms?"
"How could you tell? Did all the green give it away?" she asks, leading Jane to a couch and pouring them each a goblet of wine.
"Ellie, come on," Jane says, accepting the wine as Eleanor curls up against the arm of the couch. "You are like living in a shrine to him. That can't be healthy."
"I just told you, Jane," Eleanor says. Although she decided to enjoy this life while they were in the mountains, the guilt returns now. These circumstances don't add up to the ever-analytical Jane. She is missing variables and for all she knows, Eleanor should be a grieving mess. "I'm doing better. I've taken over a lot of Frigga's duties and singing with the kiddos helps."
"So instead of coming home to be with the people who love you, you are here, helping Odin, who you hate, and acting as queen of the gods?" By the end of her spiel, Jane is a bit hysterical and to her this all must seem overwhelming and huge.
In every letter exchanged in the last few months, Jane's asked the same question. When are you coming home?
"Odin isn't so bad now that he's lost so much," Eleanor says. This, at least, is no lie. "And I have this duty to Frigga, even to Loki, to carry out my responsibilities here. There's no one else and I'm good at it. I've got purpose here, Jane."
The scientist is not convinced. Eleanor is not surprised that the scientist is not convinced. If Loki were really dead, she'd definitely be back on Midgard, barely functioning, probably drinking constantly.
"Look, I don't want to fight with you. That's not why we're here."
"Right. Thor's here too." Eleanor says, sitting up a little straighter and wondering what her brother in law could possibly be discussing with his father who is actually his brother. It's the same thing she's been wondering since Neela banged on the door.
"You sound surprised."
Eleanor nods and sips her wine. "Well, yeah. It's only been a couple months. I thought he'd still be settling into life on Earth."
"We're getting married!" The words burst out of Jane's mouth so quickly it takes Eleanor's brain a minute to catch up.
"Wait," she says. "What?"
"I know, I know. It seems so fast, given that we were broken up, but I love him. I do and he apologized for everything with the Bifrost. And..." Jane bites her lip and looks away.
"And?"
"Well, I guess Loki at some point reminded Thor that we really don't have that much time before I die. I guess he wanted Thor to protect his heart from the whole me dying while Thor is still relatively young, thing. Instead we are getting married," Jane babbles. "Is it okay? Talking about Loki?"
Eleanor tries to look sad, like she's fighting tears. Nodding her head, she clears her throat. "Yeah. It's like proof he was real and not horrible. Not many people here miss him, not like we do."
It's a little terrifying, how easy it is to lie to her best friend.
"Yeah," murmurs Jane.
This was probably not the proper reaction to such happy news.
"Wow," Eleanor says, smiling now. She scoots closer to give Jane another hug. "Congrats."
"Thanks. I thought it might be rough, you know. So soon after..."
"It is actually less rough. You guys together and happy makes me happy. And Loki would have been secretly thrilled."
Jane laughs. "A deep, dark secret, maybe."
"So when is all this going down?"
"We are thinking like a month, maybe two?"
Eleanor's eyebrows go way up.
"It's spring now and I want to do it outside, when it's not too hot. Nothing fancy or in any public spaces for obvious, superhero, god-related reasons. Maybe we'll set up a tent on the compound property."
"An Avenger wedding," she says, cracking a smile. "In a month maybe two. Awesome."
"Again, we are bucking tradition. Tony's already decided to get registered to perform the service so that's obviously going to be ridiculous. And I figure it will just be you and Darcy in the wedding."
Eleanor nearly chokes on her wine. "You want me in the wedding?"
"Of course."
"How the hell am I supposed to do bridesmaid things from here?"
Very deliberately Jane straightens in her seat and places her goblet on the table. "You are staying here."
"Yeah," Eleanor drawls, rolling her eyes and wondering if Jane's been paying attention.
Jane frowns. "You are serious."
"Yeah."
"Eleanor, you need to come home."
"Why?"
"Your family is worried about you."
"They can visit me here."
"Odin's okay with that?"
"I can handle Odin." And she does. Everyday when he gets hungry. Last week she gave him some supplies for sketching after he colored one of Frigga's grimoires and Loki freaked out. He's been totally consumed with charcoal and parchment since.
"Since when?"
"Since we're both widows, Jane." She snaps and then takes a deep breath. "I'm not going anywhere."
"But it doesn't make sense! Why do you want to stay here? Do you like the power? Is that it? That crown you wear, going to your head. Are you more like Loki than anyone realized?"
Eleanor's only answer for that lovely accusation is to glare. She crosses her arms over her chest and does so. Jane glares right back.
They both jump, ending the impromptu staring contest when the door to Eleanor's rooms slam open.
"Jane!" booms the God of Thunder.
"Right here!" says Jane.
Thor stomps on over, red faced and furious, ham hands fisted at his side. "Odin is an old man and a fool!"
"Didn't that statement get you banished once?" asks Eleanor, turning back to her wine.
"This time it is true!" insists Thor. He leans down to kiss Eleanor's forehead. "Hello, Sister."
"What's up?"
"He refuses to come," continues Thor. "And how fare thee, Eleanor? You look well. Are you ready to come back to the New Mexico with us?"
"She's good. No, she is stubbornly refusing to leave. And who refuses to come where?" Jane asks.
"My father! Although he raised no further objections to my union with a mortal, he refuses to attend the festivities."
If Loki isn't going, Eleanor can't go. The distance allowed between them keeps growing but there's no way she could get all the way to fucking Midgard without her husband.
"I'll work on it," Eleanor says.
"Work on it?" Thor repeats, gaping down at her. "Since when does Father listen to you?"
Eleanor shrugs. "Since I'm the only one left."
The engaged couple leave not long after, defeated and saddened despite their happy news.
"I had to say no," Loki announces when he enters Odin's tower the next day. "Odin would have said no. So I had to say no."
At the sound of his name, the former king glances up from his stew to squint at Loki. "Blue?"
"I told you," Eleanor murmurs, reaching out to rub his shoulder. "Thor is getting married. To Jane."
"Goats and thunder," Odin mutters, turning back to his dinner.
"Yes, Father," says Loki, taking the chair across from Eleanor. She's stunned to hear Loki call Odin 'Father', but he doesn't appear to notice his own slip back into old habits. "Thor is marrying a mortal. I married only a half-mortal. Who's the more dutiful son now?"
Eleanor rolls her eyes as Odin blinks at Loki for a moment before he finishes his meal and leaves the table, headed up to the sunny room Eleanor converted into a sort of art studio when Odin's obsession with sketching became obvious.
"We have to go," Eleanor says.
"We cannot go."
"We have to."
"You just want to see all your pathetic mortal friends."
"Sure, but Jane is already suspicious of my decision to stay on Asgard. What do you think she'll do if I don't show for the wedding? Have you ever known Jane to stop until she finds her answer?"
Loki sighs heavily.
The ceremony is lovely, short, sweet, and perfect for the unconventional couple, the astrophysicist and the god. It takes place in a tent setup on the Stark Complex property and Eleanor sits in the front row, next to Loki. The whole thing is much more moving than she predicted with Iron Man conducting the ceremony and she wants to hold Loki's hand, but he is playing Odin at the moment so she can't.
After, there is a party in another tent. The food is plentiful and Midgardian, much to Volstagg's delight, and the alcohol flows freely, much to the delight of everyone else.
It is a superhero reunion and Eleanor doesn't feel so small compared to them, unlike when she first met these powerful people nearly a decade ago after Loki's misguided invasion attempt. Now she is magic.
She catches up with Tony and Pepper, keeping an eye on Loki (Odin) loitering alone at a table in the back, steadily drinking and looking mildly disgusted.
For once Jane does not beg and plead for Eleanor to move back to New Mexico. Instead she can't stop smiling and hugging everyone in the general vicinity. Thor wears that same delighted look.
Darcy takes it upon herself to introduce Eleanor to the new faces.
"Sam," she says, dragging Eleanor to a table occupied by Steve and a stranger. An extremely handsome stranger with the world's best smile. "May I present, her royal highness, Princess Eleanor Tate of Asgard."
Steve chuckles and shakes his head while the beautiful stranger's eyes go wide.
"Jesus, fuck, Darcy," mutters Eleanor. "Did you really have to say all that? And on Asgard technically it is Bragadóttir."
"Whatever."
"You don't sound like a princess," says Sam the Stranger. "And you really don't talk like an Asgardian."
"Yeah, well," Eleanor replies, shrugging and taking a seat. Darcy helps herself to Steve's lap. "I'm half-mortal, didn't even find out about the whole alien gig until I was already a grown up."
"Oh," says Sam, sitting straight up in his chair and snapping his fingers. "I've heard about you. You were married to the dude who tried to invade Earth, Thor's little brother."
Eleanor winces. "Yup. That's me."
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Princess."
Eleanor winces again. "I really don't use the title while I'm here."
"Is that a tiara?" asks Sam.
"Darcy made me," replies Eleanor. "She really wanted to see it."
"And it's super lame," Darcy says. "Tiny and not at all flashy."
"Like me," replies Eleanor.
Darcy snorts. "You might be tiny, but look at what you're wearing! Definitely flashy."
It is one of the more simple gowns in her wardrobe.
"Don't let Darcy get you down," says Sam, leaning back in his chair, tilting onto two legs. "You are stunning."
In response a totally hysterical laugh bursts from her chest. Steve, Darcy, and Sam all look appropriately concerned. She sounds nothing like a princess, and nothing like herself, but it's been a long time since any not-Loki person complimented her so blatantly and flirtatiously. They wouldn't dare on Asgard, even with her husband supposedly dead.
"Ellie, what the fuck?" asks Darcy.
Eleanor clears her throat and shakes her head.
"So I take it that means you don't want to dance?" asks Sam, remarkably unfazed by her bizarre behavior.
"My husband died four months ago so extreme no," she murmurs as a hand grips her shoulder.
"Your highness!" squeaks Darcy.
Loki uses Odin's face to look at them all with utter contempt so no one else attempts to greet the king.
"Eleanor," says her disguised husband. "Dine with me."
She nods and rises, linking her arm through Odin's (Loki's) and grins over her shoulder at a gaping Darcy as she departs for the buffet.
"SHIELD is no more," says Loki as he wipes his hands and pushes his plate away.
"Wait," says Eleanor. "What?"
"According to Thor, it was destroyed several months ago from the inside out. I did not bother to remember the details."
"Dude!"
"Your dear friend Steve Rodgers saved the day and blew it up or something. With the help of his friend the bird who was so eager to compliment you."
Eleanor rolls her eyes and sips her wine. "So there is just... no more SHIELD?"
"Supposedly. Although Director Fury faked his own death but is still out there somewhere, attempting to continue saving this world or some drivel."
"Faked his death huh?" Eleanor says with a smirk. "What a crazy thing to do!"
"Father." Thor, looking sharp in a fine suit that is probably making Loki in his Odin face quake with jealousy, embraces the king after dinner is done and most of the guests find their way to the dance floor. "I still can't believe you are here."
"Yes," says the king, glancing at Eleanor. "It was brought to my attention that I would come to regret missing such an occasion, even if I disapprove."
"Sister?" asks Thor, gazing at her in wonder. "This is your doing?"
She shrugs.
"In exchange, the princess is taking all the meetings with all the broken-hearted would-be prospects so I do not have to sit through the whining," says the Loki/Odin.
"Yeah, it's brutal," Eleanor says, groaning. "You've had way too many high born ladies pinning for you for centuries. I'm probably not as sympathetic to their disappointment as I should be."
Jane opens her mouth as she certainly has something to say about that, but then Tony Stark is looping his arm through Eleanor's, dragging her towards the dance floor.
"Sorry, your godliness," calls Iron Man over his shoulder. "I haven't seen Madonna here in years and she owes me a dance."
She falls into step with him and they sway among the many superheroes and SHIELD agents (former SHIELD agents, maybe). Even her family is in attendance, Laura with her kids and her husband, Maureen, who has been engaged in conversation with Erik Selvig of all people since the reception started.
"You could have just asked me, you know," she says, fighting her grin.
"And risk you rejecting me? You are like a princess for real now. My ego couldn't take it."
Eleanor snorts. Tony chuckles with her for a moment before his eyes get sad, his mouth gets serious.
"How are you?" he murmurs.
She winces and drops her gaze, well practiced at faking grief. When she thinks of Frigga dead on the ground, the pain is no longer fraudulent.
"I'm... busy," she says. For whatever reason, lying to Tony is harder than lying to Jane and Thor.
"Busy?"
"Yeah. There is so much to do. And since the queen... well, I've taken over some of her duties and it keeps me busy, gives me purpose."
"I'm so sorry, Ellie."
She nods.
"I liked him, you know. He was a scheming, irritating, evil son of a bitch, but I liked him. I've never met anyone smarter."
"He liked you too."
"He did not."
"He wouldn't say it, but he liked you."
The song ends. Tony kisses her forehead and leaves to find Pepper. Eleanor intends to move back to Loki, but this time it is Darcy that intercepts. Again.
She meets Bucky Barnes, Steve's childhood friend who apparently did not die in WWII. He is quiet and self-conscious of his metal arm, but the haunted look in his eyes is familiar. Loki carried around a similar burden. She still sees a hint of that old trauma in her husband, when he wakes from a nightmare or when he gets lost in memory, but Loki managed to heal with her here in New Mexico.
From what she understands, Bucky had even less agency than Loki, and no sense of self. While Loki was remade, Bucky was totally erased, but he agrees to dance with Darcy and smiles when Steve whispers in his ear, so Eleanor thinks he'll be all right.
She catches up with her family. Even with all her letters reassuring them that she's okay, they feel the need to hug her a lot to make sure for themselves.
She dances with Steve and then with Thor. She eats cake and drinks wine. Jane has never been happier. Darcy's toast is hilarious and Thor requests they drink to his deceased brother, Loki, who would have been Thor's best man, if he lived. To get through it, Eleanor stares at her feet and glances at Loki hiding in plain sight to assure herself that he didn't actually die. When Thor talks of Frigga and the importance of family, Eleanor really does cry.
And then Thor asks Eleanor to sing, gives her half an hour and hopes that she'll keep it happy. Clint Barton, who makes a shockingly competent DJ, evacuates the stage to join Natasha Romanoff and Bruce Banner at the bar.
She stands before a tent full of mortals. They are her friends and although some are strangers, most she is at least acquainted with from her time at Stark. She knows them but as she stands on the stage all she sees are the differences.
Years of Princess Lessons, and it was Frigga's death and Loki's kingship that truly transformed Eleanor into an Asgardian, and a royal one at that. She stands, straight, tall, and proud. The delicate tiara, so like the ring on her left hand, is no longer heavy but a familiar weight. Although she selected her simplest dress, a long, black sheath with geometric cut outs spanning the neckline, it is still belted with metal that is engraved in the shape of Loki's horned helmet. She no longer looks so mortal.
Since moving to Asgard, she's wanted nothing more than to return to their simple life here in the desert but as she stands, looking at the people she really does love, she doesn't think simple would be enough.
They know the mortal. To them, she is Ellie, small, quiet, brash, but that is not a complete picture.
She's Asgardian too and it's long past time she shows them.
Taking a deep breath, she lifts her hands and a full orchestra of instruments appears around her, floating in air, waiting her direction. From the audience she hears gasps. They've certainly heard of Eleanor and her magic, but seeing is a different thing altogether.
She closes her eyes and shows them what she can do.
They wander through the old house, cataloging changes Thor and Jane have made and quietly remembering. The other non-Midgardians – Sif, Sigyn, Fandral, Volstagg, and Hogun – who attended the wedding, went home when the festivities concluded long after midnight, but Loki and Eleanor snuck away to wander through what is left of an old life.
It's been a little over two years since they lived here, but it seems so much longer.
In the next lot over, Thor and Jane are building their own house. Eleanor assured them that they could stay in the house Loki gave her as an apology, but Jane insisted on creating her own home now that she's back from London. The couple is gone now, off on their honeymoon.
"Do you miss it?" asks Loki as Eleanor pokes her head into the untouched music room. He leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest and she can feel his gaze following her.
"Yes," she murmurs. "But not as much as I thought I would."
"I do."
She turns, totally shocked.
"Well, no," he corrects, flashing her a bashful grin. "I miss the time we had here, the relative freedom. It was rare for us to be apart for more than an hour or two then. Now there are meetings and duties and demands on both our time."
"So," she says, approaching him slowly. "What you really miss is me."
He lunges forward and she squeaks in surprise as he pulls her to his chest. "Pathetic, is it not?"
"I don't mind," she says, settling with her head on his chest. "They were scared of me, Loki."
"Good."
"Even some of the Avengers and Darcy and my family. They haven't seen much magic. Knowing is different than seeing."
"You were brilliant."
"Maybe. But here on Midgard I always have to be cautious, you know? Strange how Asgard, with all its problems and bigotry, is where I feel most comfortable being myself," she mutters.
Loki snorts. "I cannot image."
"Yeah, well you spend little time as yourself these days."
"Only with you."
They are quiet, and as they linger in the music room, the sky starts to lighten.
"Do you want to watch the sunrise on your rocks?" she asks.
"I've married a master of intellect. Come."
They sit on the rock where Loki reclaimed his mind as the sun comes up in a dazzling array of colors that brings out the reds and oranges of New Mexico.
"Let's go home," she says as the earth warms.
Wow! Eleanor on board with the great lie and a wedding! I told you it was packed.
So this isn't common knowledge, but reviews are the cure for carpal tunnel.
Jeeze, that was shameless.
Thanks so much for reading. I really hope you will be hearing from me very soon.