Part II: In the Dark
Chapter 57: Dream On
There is a space between worlds, dark and hidden and without time. It resides near a place called Sanctuary, although the name is misleading and this domain of Thanos is anything but. Those who have faced the horrors of this space between worlds call it The Void, but Thanos prefers a different title, a fond, adoring one for this is where he does his best work. The Nursery, he calls it, for in this space he creates his children, twisting and pulling and hurting until they are perfectly cruel, totally deadly, and blindly loyal.
Typically he seeks creatures with great power or great potential, but this time he expands his horizons, keeping one so weak, so pathetic, so far from extraordinary that looking upon her in The Nursery is sickening. It is a trial to keep from crushing the life from her fragile chest, the inadequate cage of her ribs failing to protect a small heart, but she is somehow important to one of his children, the most powerful and uncontrollable of those he ever nurtured.
He thought he understood Loki when he was released on Midgard, but not only did he fail miserably in his mission, he also fell for the disgustingly mortal girl who now stays in Thanos' Nursery.
Eleanor Tate, it is called. The magic of her father has done little to overcome the weakness of her mother, but still she is a Princess of Asgard, the wife of the most powerful and uncontrollable of Thanos' children. And she will prove the key to regaining this control over his wayward son.
Hidden in darkness, he watches this Eleanor Tate where she hangs suspended and naked. She is not strong in body or magic or mind. Her body is frail, pale and unremarkable in the darkness and even the blood running down her arms and chest, flowing and drying on her legs and clotting in her light hair does nothing to make her more beautiful.
He's kept her alone for what feels like centuries and planted doubts in her mind, but still the mortal has yet to cry out or beg for death. He's whispered that Loki cares not, for he let this happen, but the mortal simply rolls her eyes. He's stripped the skin from her arms and her screams were music, but her mind is a strange fortress and he has thus far not been able to sway her towards speech. She herself is nothing, an annoyance, a stain in his beloved Nursery, but breaking her will serve only to punish Loki for his failure.
Perhaps this pathetic mortal should be made fully aware of her purpose now.
It starts with laughter, strange and echoing. After so long spent alone, the laughter filling the Nursery now should be a relief but instead Eleanor Tate shivers violently, as if she already understands that this is no salvation, no end to her exile, but the beginning of her total demise.
"It will be your fault and your fault only," he hisses. It is a thrill when she shivers again, blues eyes open now and glancing around wildly, attempting in vain to see Thanos, as if such a thing is possible in his own Nursery unless he lets it be so. "For you, my son will burn it all, slaughter thousands and enslave realms until I have my Infinity Stones. And it will all be for you."
Eleanor Tate's hands shake now and the invisible chains that keep her arms above her head rattle. Thanos can smell her terror and he breathes in her fear, sighing with the pleasure of it before the shadows around him melt away. The mortal sees him immediately as he makes himself known to her, and when he lets his laughter ring out once more, she cowers, pulling at her chains, struggling to put more space between them.
"All your fault," Thanos says, grinning wide with all his bright teeth, a stark contrast to the darkness of his Nursery. To Eleanor, he appears to be only bright teeth and shining eyes, the dark purple leather of his face continuing to blend in to the Nursery. "For you, your husband will burn it all. But first, I will burn you."
And for the first time in all the eons he has used this Nursery, his charge smiles in return. She lifts her head, smiles a smile that is familiar but does not seem to be her own, and her hands turn blue.
Some latent instinct left over from his time in The Void and Sanctuary has a dagger appearing in Loki's hand as the shrill, terrified screams of his wife wake him from slumber.
There is no enemy to slaughter, no physical and present threat to protect her from, and he is helpless to do anything but follow as Eleanor rolls from their bed, barely making it to the washroom in time to expel the contents of her stomach into the toilet.
"Eleanor," he murmurs, pulling back her hair with shaking hands. "What sickness is this?"
Eleanor shakes her head before her body convulses again.
"Eleanor!"
Shaking as badly as Loki is, Eleanor turns to him, throwing her arms around his neck and crying in earnest. He rocks her slightly, at a loss. He considers summoning Sigyn or perhaps simply crying himself. This helplessness brings him panic and he feels Eleanor's distress as acutely as he would his own.
"Are you ill?" he manages as Eleanor continues to wail into his neck. "Speak to me. Please, Eleanor, what is wrong?"
"Dreams," she whispers, continuing to shudder. "Fuck, Loki. Dreams."
Swallowing back his own dread, he rises as Eleanor assures him she will not be sick again. He lifts his petite wife with ease and carries her back to their bed.
"You must tell me," he says firm and calm when he feels anything but. "Every detail. You must tell me now."
Through the most violent sobs he can ever recall coming from his wife, she tells him of her dream. She hides her face in the crook of his neck as she talks of darkness so complete it felt as if she didn't really exist and the cruel, echoing laughter that came at her from all directions. She shakes and soaks him with her tears as she speaks of fire, the smell of burning flesh, and worst of all images in her mind that twist her memories of Loki into something false, something terrifying. She gets near hysterical after she quotes the titan in her dream.
She completely loses all composure, locking her arms around his neck as she continues to cry. Loki sits them up against the headboard, rocking her gently and murmuring words of comfort she doesn't seem to hear. It is no matter. His mind is elsewhere and this comfort he fails to really provide is automatic rather than genuine.
After all this time anticipating retaliation of some kind for Loki's failure to deliver the Tesseract to the Mad Titan of Death, to have it upon him now is something of a relief. Finally it will be over. Finally they will be safe. And Loki will win, for he has so much to lose now.
Defeat is no option.
While Eleanor is falling apart in his arms, Loki plots. He has not been idle these last years and now that he is back in the titan's sights, as evidenced by his wife's surely prophetic dream, he will need to go on the offensive with plans he's had in place for some time.
He will not wait for the Mad Titan to come for him. He will not play defense or simply react as they were forced to do with the Dark Elves.
Loki will slay the Mad Titan, and the creature, in all his arrogance, will not see it coming.
The titan's own plan is rather obvious and Loki could have guessed his strategy even before Eleanor's dream. He will take Eleanor, remaking her in his vision as he did with Loki and countless others. He will twist her, use her for his own means and to ensure his control over Loki.
Against him, Eleanor is finally calming and in the dark of their bedroom, Loki grins.
If the titan wants Eleanor so badly, then Eleanor he will have.
"He called you his son," she murmurs when words once again become possible. It really shouldn't be her first question, but this is too much and her brain isn't working properly. They have certainly faced adversity before, but now they have kids and the threat of the titan is too much. Although her sobbing has mostly ceased, Eleanor still feels herself unraveling, despite Loki's shocking unflagging calm. "Why would he call you a son?"
"Oh, yes," Loki says, completely unbothered. "I'd forgotten that promise. He claimed that if I did as I was told he would make me one of his children. It was a reward of sorts, or at least it was meant to be. Most of the titan's so-called children came to him as actual children and he got in them young, remade them young, and I suppose the allure of pleasing a father figure was appealing to them, but not I."
"What happen to them? His children?"
Even in the dark, she can feel Loki shrug. "Most continue to do his bidding, twisted so by pain and various other nasty experiments from genetic manipulation to cyborg technology that they have no sense of self and never question his orders. As far as I am aware, only two managed to ever leave him. Three, if I myself am included, and I don't consider myself included. I was with him too short a time."
"Huh," Eleanor says, not really absorbing his words. Instead his deep, steady voice washes over her and Eleanor feels numb. "The dream tasted real, like this is really going to happen someday," she whispers. That is not the best way to describe these strange premonitions, but this dream had a flavor to it, just like her Aether dreams before they left Midgard and the Dark Elves attacked, just like the visions of her daughter that she experienced when she was pregnant.
Eleanor is reasonably certain that she'll one day end up at the nonexistent mercies of the Mad Titan in The Void where her husband suffered so, but that doesn't scare her nearly as much as what Loki might do to get her back and what might happen to their kids.
"I know, my dear," he whispers and for the first time he sounds pained. Still, she doesn't sense any fear in her husband. She can't decide if this is a good sign or bad. "No harm will befall you. I swear it."
Eleanor nods. "Go get my babies," she says, shoving at him gently. "I know they are asleep and fine, but I want them right here."
"Of course." Loki gives her a kiss that she can't manage to return.
With Loki gone, Eleanor turns off a light and then lies flat on her back, staring at the ceiling. She focuses on her breathing and willingly allows herself to slip into apathy. Numbness is a long utilized coping mechanism and she doesn't have the strength to be fully present now.
When Loki gently lays their daughter down at Eleanor's side, Lenara sleeps on. Vali is awake and Eleanor knows she should feel guilty for that but she just can't. He seems content enough with his forehead resting against Loki's neck, little fists curled against his father's chest. When Loki attempts to set him down next to his sleeping sister, Vali whines and clings to his father. Loki chuckles, keeping Vali tucked against his side as he settles back down in bed. Within seconds Vali's eyes flicker and then stay shut.
Eleanor reaches out, touching Len's fist with her finger. The baby immediately latches on, even as she continues to sleep.
"My love," murmurs Loki, looking at her like it makes his heart ache. "My sweet songbird. Worry not. I have a plan, have had a plan for quite some time. You will be safe. Our children will be safe."
"Will you be safe?" she whispers.
"Yes," Loki says, sounding too confident. "I will be safe also. Now sleep."
By the time Eleanor finally succumbs to sleep once more, Loki is nearly at the end of his patience. Now that the time is upon him, he is antsy with the need to act. He has considered and dismissed and then reconsidered leaving Eleanor here with the children while she was still awake to complete his task – he can't, it would be too cruel given her current, terrified-into-apathy state – when she finally dozes, and he can slip away with no guilt.
Barefooted and wearing only a rumpled sleeping tunic, he closes the bedroom door behind him with no sound, careful not to wake his family. The journey across their rooms to his library is a short one and he brings the lights up to a dim glow.
The device sits on a high shelf, a small innocuous sphere that easily passes as some meaningless trinket but is in actuality capable of reaching out to communicate across realms, across galaxies, without leaving a trace, magical or otherwise.
As Loki sits in his favorite chair by the window in his library, it disappears from the shelf only to reappear in his palm in the next instant. He rolls the sphere between his hands, giving himself time to carefully plan his words. In all likelihood such plans will be for naught, as no one is more difficult to predict than the most infamous assassin in the realms.
Eleanor is a close second on the unpredictable front, and thinking of his wife now inspires Loki to stop ruminating and start acting, because he would be back in bed when she opens her eyes again, after such a night.
For the first time in years, since Loki became king and he heard tales of the assassin's defection from her so-called father, Loki slots his fingertips into grooves hidden along the smooth surface of the device. The sphere hums to life, floating before him and vibrating in the air as it transforms into a flat screen.
He waits with little patience, imagining that somewhere on the other side of the universe the assassin's own sphere is rattling, demanding she slot her fingertips into grooves. It will only open to a unique print of fingers.
Although it feels like it takes an eternity, it is only a few moments but still enough time for Loki to regret failing to fix his hair.
And suddenly the assassin is before him, visage blinking at him from his hovering screen. It is impossible to discern her location for the darkness is too great. Behind her appears to be some sort of poster from Midgard, but that hardly seems likely.
Although he's managed to remain shockingly calm through Eleanor's terror and the realization that the time to kill the titan is upon him, the dark eyes and green skin of the assassin brings him back to his time in the titan's domain, after he was sufficiently remade and was preparing to enslave Midgard. She was always so quiet, unlike her sister, but looking upon her now fills Loki's chest with that tight, familiar panic. They spent vast amounts of time together, the assassin training with Loki to restore his weak, emaciated form back to fighting condition after he was released from The Void, but she still said little.
"Loki?" she asks, her voice raspy and confused. He also notices now her messy hair – brown at the root, pink at the ends – and slightly swollen eyes. It becomes obvious that he's awoken her. With the evidence of her current vulnerability and confusion before him, the coil in his chest loosens to the point where speech and rationality are once more possible.
"Gamora," Loki greets, nodding once.
The assassin shakes her head, running her hands through her hair as she sits up more fully. There is some commotion behind her, another body stirring on the bed. Gamora's eyes flash to Loki once more before she turns her screen around, giving him a view of a small, neat cabin and shielding her companion from his sight.
It is probably not the best of signs, that the assassin does not trust him even with this, but Loki will do his very best to keep his wife hidden from this unfortunately necessary ally as well so he can hardly begrudge her secrecy.
"Come back here, woman." It's a sleepy grumble, a male voice that Loki can barely make out.
"Be silent or I will cut your throat."
Loki grins to himself, feeling more confident in this necessary risk than he did moments ago.
"You know, every time you say that it gets a little less scary," mumbles the assassin's companion. "I'm starting to think you'd never actually do it."
Gamora is speaking again, whispering now and Loki cannot hear. A moment later the screen is on the move and she stops in a brightly lit hall with nothing but the metal siding of a spacecraft visible.
Gamora glares at him and Loki smirks slightly in return, attempting to appear much more collected and in control than he feels.
"When you heard of my break from Thanos you promised to contact me for one reason, and only one reason," she says, cocking her head to the side as she studies him.
"Oh, yes," he replies, letting his grin grow slowly. "It is time."
Gamora returns his grin, bloodthirsty, as ready for vengeance and freedom as Loki. "Excellent," she purrs. "Asgard, then?"
Loki nods.
"Give me a fortnight or two."
"Make it one," he replies.
"I know not who she will elect to accompany her, but I imagine she will have companions."
"You know not who she consorts with and still you invite her here! This assassin of great renown, a menace to the realms, who you invite here, and you know not who she consorts with! I question your judgment in this, Brother. How could you willingly allow such a dangerous, malicious, evil creature not only to breech our borders but to stay in the palace! We should arrest her on the spot."
"You will do no such thing. Gamora is intelligent and ruthless and her knowledge of the titan and his domain will prove invaluable. Please, Thor. I have been preparing for this inevitable moment for some time. It is not just Eleanor and my family he threatens but all the realms. You must trust me."
"It is your choice of ally I do not trust."
And so it goes.
Eleanor listens with half an ear as Asgard's rulers bicker. It would shock most, but this is how decisions get made in this new era of Asgard. When the brothers disagree, which is not as often as Eleanor originally anticipated, they fight. It starts big as they hurl accusations at each other and generally act like children. Eleanor lets them get it out of their system before forcing them to either separate to cool off or making them spar, depending on their mood. The pride and posturing done, they then continue to argue, but they are calm enough to hash out the details, actually listening to each other. More often than not, they agree on the end goal but have different opinions on how to best achieve said goal, and eventually they compromise. Occasionally Eleanor will have to step in to cast the deciding vote when the brothers argue themselves to a standstill, but this has only happened a handful of times.
Today, Eleanor just can't.
She sits on the couch in their rooms, barely listening as the brothers go back and forth. She cradles a sleeping Lenara to her chest and holds Vali's hand as he sits at her side. She stares at nothing and knows she should be involved in the planning, that she should slip into her role as mediator and help Loki save their family and the realm, but she is incapable of doing anything but keeping her children close and staring at the floor.
She drifts. She is blank. They have so much to lose. Better to not contemplate anything at all than to think on the horrifying possibilities. She covets the fog currently keeping her oblivious but calm.
The rolling voices of Thor and Loki make a nice background for her blankness and she has no concept of how much time passes until something moves her arm, demanding her attention and focus on this room in this moment.
Beside her Vali is scowling up at her, attempting to dislodge her grip on his wrist. It takes her longer than it should to understand what is happening, and still she doesn't quite get how Vali would want to be away from her at a time like this.
"Mama," he says, uncharacteristically whiny. "Blocks."
Together they both glance at his toys on the floor.
"Oh," she says, releasing him immediately. Her son flashes her a confused look before sliding off the sofa and plopping himself down in front of his toys. The distance between them is difficult for Eleanor to bear, even if it is only a few feet, and she watches Vali intently, convinced that if she even blinks he might be taken from her. Although her arms ache, she refuses to put Lenara down in her crib.
When Vali eventually gets bored – it might be a minute later, it might be an hour – he delivers a picture book for her to read and he leans against her to listen. It is a relief.
Her voice is soft and Vali insists on turning the pages himself. She runs her fingers through her son's hair, amazed by how quickly and thoroughly she fell in love with this tiny Asgardian. Failing him is unthinkable and her mind works in circles, knowing she must do something but too frightened to figure out what.
"No, Mommy," Vali says, frowning up at her again. "This."
She's read the same line multiple times it would seem. As she becomes aware of this failure she also notices the relative silence in their rooms and Loki, standing before her with his hands clenched behind his back and a frown that looks remarkably like Vali's marring his beautiful features.
"Oh," Eleanor says, feeling foolish. "Are you done fighting?"
Loki's lips twitch into something that might have been a smile under vastly different circumstances.
"About this, anyway," he says with a sigh. "The assassin will be welcome here, although the fewer who know of her presence on this realm the better. They'll have to stay here in the family section of the palace and servant activity will need to be kept to a minimum. It will not do if her presence here is brought to the attention of the titan. He must continue to believe that he will have the advantage of surprise. I know they cause you great terror, but your prophetic dreams are saving us, my sweet songbird. They mean that we are back in the titan's thoughts, but he plans slowly. We have time."
Eleanor nods as if she's really listening. Hearing, maybe, but certainly not listening. She knows that she should ask about this ally, ask about what he's been planning, but she just can't.
"We certainly seem to get the best results when Thor and I bicker," Loki says, sighing heavily.
At her side, Vali loses patience. "Mama! Reading now."
"Oh," says Eleanor, forgetting where she was.
"Here," says Loki, sliding onto the couch next to their son. "I will do it."
Vali grins and nods, climbing into Loki's lap, leaning back against his father's chest and pointing to the place in the story where Eleanor left off. Loki's better at the reading thing than Eleanor anyway. He's more creative with the voices he uses.
Eleanor slouches low on the cushions, adjusting Lenara against her chest. The baby stirs slightly and then settles. Eleanor watches Loki's lips move as he speaks.
She dreams again.
This time the titan is irritated and antsy. Dismayed by the length of time he's held Eleanor in The Void with no appearance from Loki, he whispers lies in Eleanor's ear, convincing her that Loki's love was an illusion only. That he is a coward that would rather hide than risk facing the titan again to get his wife back.
"Perhaps his love for your children is more genuine," muses Thanos. "Yes, I just recently learned of their existence, or I would have taken them and not bothered with you, pathetic mortal wretch. How much skin do you think I could melt from the bones of these tiny creatures before they welcomed the respite of death?"
Eleanor wakes up screaming again and resolves to stop sleeping.
"Eleanor."
She blinks.
"Please, my love. Do you understand what I ask of you?"
She blinks again and Loki sighs. They do not have the time for Eleanor to shut down so drastically, but nothing he's done in the four days since she awoke screaming from her dream has successfully brought his wife back to him.
She has not slept for three nights and Loki has awoken before the sun rises to see Lenara and Vali asleep beside him – Eleanor insists they stay here, convinced they will be snatched from the nursery – but not his wife. He's found her three times in her music room, sitting still on the floor as instruments float around her head. The sounds she creates are distressed and desperate and nothing like Loki's ever heard. Although she allows him to bring her back to bed each night, she still does not sleep.
Despite his fear for her mental health, he fears the titan more and Eleanor's dreams indicate that Loki and his family are once more in the titan's thoughts and plans. Although he takes years, decades even, to execute a plan, everything must be in place long before the titan moves for Loki to succeed. Eleanor's fear for their family and her inability to forget the horrors of her dreams leave her hollow. If they had the time he would spend every moment talking to her, touching her, forcing her to come back.
But he does not have the time, and as much as it pains him, Loki will need to ignore Eleanor's pain for now in order to ensure a future where her dreams do not occur in reality. The only way to guarantee that his wife comes back to herself is to successfully defeat this threat.
"Eleanor," he says, leading her to the closet with a hand firmly wrapped around her wrist. "Today we go to Midgard. I would leave you here, if I could, but it is possible that the bond still limits the distance we can put between us. I'm sorry, my sweet songbird, but the children must stay here."
He's busy pulling her hideous and unshapely sleeping garment over her head and handing her appropriate clothes for the day, but his words finally seem to wake her up slightly.
For three days she's been blank with sleep deprivation, and this sign of life now is something of a relief, even if she is displeased with him.
"What?" she snaps, yanking the pale green tunic from his hands. She is totally unaware of her partial nudity and Loki wills himself to say focused. "You want to leave our kids here, on a different realm, totally unprotected?"
"They are far too young to brave the journey of the Bifrost, or at least Lenara is, and it makes little sense to separate them unnecessarily. And they will hardly be unprotected, Eleanor. Thor has promised to stay with them. Even if he must bring them to the throne room, Thor will not let them out of his sight for the entirety of the time we are off world."
"No," Eleanor pulls the tunic on over her head before turning away in search of leather leggings to wear beneath. "I'm not going."
"You must, Eleanor. I must see Tony Stark."
"No."
For a moment, Loki's concern for his wife and determination to defeat the titan once and for all is completely overridden by rage. The situation is most dire and Eleanor is a ghost. An unreasonable, blank, unhelpful burden.
Fists clenched at his sides, Loki squeezes his eyes closed and gives himself several long seconds to calm.
He recalls her face in the mornings after a dream and the sounds of her screams as she is forced to endure tortures so vivid they seem real. He knows the incomprehensible brutality she faces when she allows herself sleep, and to Eleanor it feels real.
Once more his rage cools to a manageable level and he directs it where it should be directed, toward the titan.
"Please," Loki whispers. "Eleanor, I need you to be strong. I need you to allow me to protect our family. Please."
She blinks up at him again, nodding, and for a moment Loki thinks he sees the warrior in his wife, but she's completely shut down all emotion again by the time they kiss their children goodbye and step into the Bifrost pavilion.
"Well this is awkward," says Tony Stark as he opens the sliding glass doors to the laboratory that was once Jane Foster's. The years Loki and Eleanor spent here in New Mexico, working on the Bifrost with Asgard's current queen, feel very far away.
"Why?" asks Loki, pushing past him into a lab without waiting for an invitation. "Never mind, I care not. Where is the device?"
"Jeeze, no small talk? You're not even going to buy me dinner first?" asks Tony, inexplicably invading Loki's personal space and fluttering his eyelashes.
"I am now strongly considering breaking your jaw first," Loki replies. "The device, Stark."
Across the lab a mortal in a suit drops something, garnering Loki's attention. The man is gaping and glaring, eyes fixed on Loki as if he very much wishes he possessed the ability to melt things with his eyes.
"Leave, mortal," says Loki, flicking his hand the man's direction.
Tony Stark sounds as if he's choking on something.
"That's all you have to say to me?" asks the mortal.
Loki sighs and rubs his temples. "Leave now, mortal, before I rip you limb from limb."
"You've tried to kill me once before. And this time I will make it much harder." The fool actually draws a gun from his hip, aiming at Loki's forehead.
"What's this dribble?" he asks, turning to Eleanor. His wife is a silent presence behind him and both male mortals in the lab seem somewhat surprised to see her here.
Face totally impassive, Eleanor comes to stand in front of him, shielding him with her body. It's a nice gesture, her protectiveness, but Loki would never allow a bullet to get anywhere either one of them.
"You stabbed him, Loki," Eleanor says, inflection bland and monotone. "Right through the chest. Does no one stay dead around here?"
"I did not stab him."
"You really did."
"When? I have greatly limited my stabbing in recent years. All for you, wife."
Eleanor shrugs and moves away from Loki, taking a seat at her old desk. She stares at nothing, her eyelids drooping, but she valiantly fights the lure of sleep.
"What the hell did you do to Madonna?" Tony Stark demands, poking Loki in the chest.
"I did nothing!" Loki hisses, patience nearly expired. "She has not slept in three days. And the two nights prior when she did sleep, she dreamt of incomprehensible tortures as if they were truly happening to her, so it wasn't particularly restful. I am sure she is on the verge of hallucinating, but it is certainly not my doing. We have left our children protected only by my idiot brother and if anything happens to them because you are delaying what should be a short visit with useless inquires I will hurt you, Stark. You and your children and your children's unborn children. The weapon. Now!"
"Fuck!" says Stark, hands up in surrender. "Keep your fucking pants on!" And he works his way through the messy workspace before disappearing into a closet. Loki can hear him cursing and rummaging.
The mortal who Loki apparently failed to kill in the past is cautiously approaching Eleanor. "Do you need help?" he whispers, crouching at her side. "We can get you away from this maniac. Protect you."
Eleanor tilts her head towards the mortal, a knife appearing in her hand. She pushes the blade into his neck and the mortal's shock is hilarious.
"Fuck off," says Eleanor, still unable to conjure any real emotion. "I'm exhausted and kinda murderous and in no mood to hear ignorant formerly-dead assholes insult my husband. Fuck off, or I'll stab you like he did. Only this time death will last."
Loki chuckles as the mortal swallows, wincing at the pointed metal still pressed against his skin. The mortal dares not move and Eleanor shows no signs of dropping her weapon. Given his current mood, he would quite like Eleanor to murder this mortal irritant but after his wife gets a good night's sleep she would surely murder Loki in return for allowing such a thing. And it would do little to ensure Stark's continued corporation.
Sighing, Loki moves to stand behind his wife. The mortal's eyes follow his movements and the fear obvious there is a nice change of pace, as everyone Loki spends the majority of his time with these days seems to have forgotten that he is dangerous.
"Eleanor, murder in cold blood is really not on the schedule for the day," Loki says, rubbing her shoulders.
"What the fuck?" says Stark, appearing once more with a flat, circular device clutched in his hands, kicking a box across the slick metal floor.
Eleanor sighs and allows Loki to confiscate her weapon. The mortal scrambles away, his breathing ragged, the expression on his face betrayed and offended.
"No one is killing Coulson! Not again!" says Stark.
"Your friend Coulson needs to stop throwing around the word maniac," mutters Eleanor, slumping low in her seat as this Coulson gets to his feet. "He has no fucking clue what's out there."
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Stark asks Eleanor, sounding genuinely concerned.
Eleanor simply stares at him, the expression disconcerting for all who witness it, and Loki desperately attempts to keep this mission to Midgard focused.
"I have no interest in this mortal," Loki says, nearly groaning. Today it seems everyone is determined to derail his plans and be as difficult as possible. "The weapon, Stark!"
Tony rolls his eyes and places the small bomb in Loki's outstretched palm.
"And it is cold activated?" Loki asks, examining it.
"Yeah, anything under negative fifty Celsius will have it going off."
"And it will implode rather then explode?"
"Yup."
"You made only one? What if I would test this myself?"
Stark kicks at a cardboard box at his feet, full of similar small devices. "I made like twenty. Go crazy, iceman."
"You have my thanks, Tony Stark. Assuming your invention does not prove faulty."
Tony rolls his eyes. "Hey, can't you do some magic and force her to sleep? She really looks like bad."
They both glance down at Loki's wife and she does not even bother to glare at them.
"I tried a sleeping spell, but she is strong enough in her own right to repel my efforts. I could force her, I suppose, but things are not quite desperate enough to do anything without her consent," Loki says, rubbing one hand with the other.
Tony holds up a single finger and then moves to do more rummaging, through a desk this time. Loki sighs heavily, resting a hand on Eleanor's shoulder. The Man of Iron returns a moment later with a small orange bottle full of Midgardian medication.
"Sleeping pills," murmurs Stark as Loki accepts this second gift. "No dreams."
Loki nods and with a wave of his hand the box of bombs disappears and Loki pulls Eleanor to her feet. She shoots a final glare over her shoulder at Coulson before allowing Loki to drag her back to the Bifrost.
Three more days of no sleep for his wife as she continues to refuse both pills and magic, and Loki once more drags Eleanor off world. He bundles her in layers of fur and leather until only her eyes are visible.
They arrive on the frozen world of Jotunheim and Loki breathes in deep, soothed by the cold air entering his lungs. Despite the rush and welcome of frigid temperatures, Loki is still deeply apprehensive regarding this visit, and he takes Eleanor's hand as a group of Jotunn officials approaches. He recognizes them from meetings when they were negotiating the treaty of trade. Through the layers of cold protecting her hands, Eleanor squeezes back.
They are led through the streets of the newly rebuilt city surrounding the once great palace and Loki looks straight ahead, well aware of all the people who peer out their windows to stare as they pass. He wonders how many of their relatives he managed to kill when he briefly released the full power of the Bifrost upon them, and then stops thinking about anything but his goals for the visit.
The palace is a grand ice sculpture and Loki is begrudgingly impressed. Even Eleanor looks slightly interested in their surroundings, and her sleep deprivation is now so severe that she can't even manage to form a coherent sentence.
Despite the auspiciousness of the palace, Loki knows that they have no more monarchs here and that Fey's power was derived from popular election.
They are led to the boardroom where they find Fey, laughing and dining with several companions. The introductions are awkward and Fey simply calls him Loki – no of Asgard, no my brother, no tiny genocidal fiend – but Loki can still feel the hate rolling off these Frost Giants in waves. Perhaps it would have been wise to shed his Asgardian form before arriving, but he honestly did not think of it.
Inside it is a bit warmer, although not much, and Eleanor removes the fur covering half her face and pulls down her hood. She can't focus on any one thing and does not even realize that Fey is speaking to her.
Tonight Loki resolves to force her to sleep, even if it is against her will. Eleanor is sure to be furious, but this cannot go on.
Fey looks at her in concern, shares a frown with Loki, but then chooses not to say anything, instead leading them deep underground to a dark antechamber.
"There seems little point in training with you looking like that," Fey says, gesturing with slight revulsion to Loki's pale white skin after she settles Eleanor on a rock ledge by the entryway.
Loki grimaces and closes his eyes, forcing his skin to ripple into its blue form. He is still not overly comfortable presenting as a Jotunn, but mastering his inherent and thus far unexplored powers is necessary.
"You are so puny and adorable," says Fey with the same patronizing tone Thor uses when he is disguising an insult in a compliment.
"Fey!" Loki hisses, hands fisting at his sides. A layer of frost coats his fingertips. "Do you wish to mock or teach?"
Fey laughs, baring her sharp teeth. "Teach."
Under the careful tutelage of the creature that is technically his sister, Loki learns to drop the temperature of his skin to dangerously low levels that would kill any non-Jotunn, and then he learns to warm back up to his natural temperature, chilly but not dangerous for Eleanor to touch. Ice collects between his hands and he sculpts deadly daggers.
"You are now not a total embarrassment to our people," Fey says, nodding after a very long day.
Loki simply glares in response as he transforms back into his Asgardian form. He relaxes slightly, comforted by the familiarity of his typical appearance.
"When you return, we will start training in the cave of fire."
"Cave of fire?" Eleanor says, speaking for the first time since Loki awoke this morning. "What the fuck?"
"There you will learn to maintain your temperature and your ice in more adverse of environments. It will be a trial," Fey says, smirking again.
Loki winces, ever fearful of fire, but nods anyway. The fire of The Void is one fear he must overcome, and the sooner the better.
"Did Fey say Fire Room?" Eleanor whispers. They lay in bed, their children asleep between them.
"Yes," Loki replies, surprised that Eleanor is attempting a conversation. "Cave of fire. But yes."
"Fuck, I was hoping I imagined that. I think I need to sleep, Loki."
He barely refrains from snapping at her, huffing at her obvious statement. "Would you like pills or magic?"
"Magic doesn't stop the dreaming. So I'ii try the pills."
She swallows and Loki feels like he can breathe again for the first time in six days.
"Which one, Vali? The tambourine?" she asks, shaking the instrument at her son. Vali giggles and reaches out, but Lenara dives across Eleanor's lap to claim it for herself.
"Mine!" she says before sticking it in her mouth.
"Len!" says Eleanor, half delighted, half dismayed. "You learned a new word, I see." It is her fourth in as many weeks, just behind Fa and Ma. Her very first word was Val. Before the dreams, this was all very exciting and now that she's had a couple full nights' sleep – aided by Tony's drugs – she can remember that life is going on around her.
"Mommy," says Vali. "She may have it. I want this one." He selects a bright pink shaker from Eleanor's basket and settles happily at her side.
"Mine!" says Lenara, the tambourine forgotten.
"Alright, Lenny," replies Vali, giving up the shaker and reaching for the tambourine. "I want this one."
"Mine!" says Lenara, stubbornly holding both instruments.
"Sharing, Lenny. One for me and one for you," explains Vali, very seriously.
Eleanor smiles at Vali gently scolding his sister and how intently Lenara stares at her brother as he speaks. Smiling feels strange after so many days reveling in sleep-deprived misery, and for one little moment she actually managed to forget the source of all her current worry.
Thinking about her dreams, Eleanor shivers and takes a deep breath. This afternoon she is in the gardens with her kids and some instruments, for the express purposes of actively not thinking about the Mad Titan and his plans for their family.
Lenara giggles, gives the tambourine a good shaking, and then hands it over to her brother. "Val," she says.
"Yes, well done, Lenara. Sharing is important." Eleanor blows a raspberry on her daughter's cheek, causing her to shriek and giggle. "And you, dear boy." Eleanor pulls her son into her lap, tickling him slightly. "You are such a good big brother. So patient and kind."
"Mine!" Len says again. This time both instruments are ignored as she crawls over and tugs at Vali's arm. He shifts to hug her and Len lets out another delighted chortle. "Mine Val. Val mine."
Eleanor smiles again and fights her tears as her children coo over each other. She just got this perfect little family with these painfully beautiful kids, and the prospect of this biggest of all the baddies in the universe now having its sights set on ruining them terrifies her as nothing has before.
For the first time, Eleanor is crippled by her fear. Before she's been able to remain calm and deal one step at a time, but this is different.
Loki's obviously been planning for this moment for a long time, and his steady calm should reassure her, but nothing does. Not even his promises that the titan will die and their family will be safe can make her hands stop shaking.
Even if he always keeps his promises. At least to her.
"Mama?" Vali is frowning up at her and Lenara is quickly picking up on her brother's distress, so Eleanor pulls it together and gives them both her most bright of smiles.
"Would anyone like to hear a song?"
"Sweet home Alabama," she croons. Around them a whole slew of instruments float, each note controlled by her magic, as she spins around in a circle with Vali in her arms. After years of practice, it takes no thought at all to control multiple instruments at once, and no effort at all to dance with her son through the garden while she does so. "Where the skies are so blue! Sweet home, Alabama. Glad I'm coming home to you."
At her feet Lenara is completely focused on the shaker in her tiny hand and she keeps beat with uncanny perfection.
Eleanor tries to dance away her dread, reveling in the things she loves most, sunshine and singing at the top of her lungs, the smell of hundreds of beautifully blooming flowers and her children's laughter.
Vali laughs now as she spins and tightens his arms around her neck as she shakes her hips and really wails on a guitar solo.
At the end of the song the instruments stay suspended in the air and she bows at Lenara, making Vali giggle as she dips him deep.
The applause is certainly unexpected and Eleanor whirls on the spot, the little bit of peace she found this afternoon disappearing in a moment as she takes in the sight of the stranger slowly descending the golden staircase that leads to what is supposed to be a private, royal garden. Around her the instruments disappear.
"Quite the number there," says the stranger as Eleanor rushes to stand in front of Lenara. She sets down Vali and he immediately holds his sister's hand. His spare arm wraps around Eleanor's leg.
Her hands fist at her sides, ready to conjure a weapon at the slightest provocation. Through the bond she pushes her distress at Loki, demanding that she's heard and that he get here. Now.
"Thanks," she replies as he continues to approach. "And you are?"
"They call me Star Lord," he says, popping the collar of his burgundy leather jacket and smirking at her. He is tall, blond, something that looks like human, and his smirk does nothing to endear him to her. "Perhaps you've heard of me?"
"Nope," she says, letting a thin sword appear in her hand as this Star Lord shows no sign of stopping his admittedly lazy approach. "And that's why you can't get any closer there, bucko."
"Whoa there, lady," he says, stopping right away and putting his hands in the air. "I come in peace. At the express invitation of your prince or whatever. Just heard the music and had to check it out. The song, it's from Terra, right? I recognize it from a long, long time ago."
"Terra?" she asks, relaxing only slightly when it becomes clear that this dude has no idea who she is. "Try Lynyrd Skynyrd."
"Lynyrd Skynyrd!" He claps his hands and gives an excited little fist pump. "That's it! That's the band. Damn." He mimes a little air guitar and Eleanor relaxes fractionally, but doesn't drop her blade.
"Where have you heard that song before?" she asks. Behind her Vali whimpers and Eleanor drops her spare hand, pushing her fingers through his dark hair.
"It's from my planet. From Terra," says the stranger.
"Terra?" she asks, blinking. "What, you're mortal?"
"Hey! Whoa, lady. We just met! No need to start name calling." Looking chagrined, he straightens his jacket.
Eleanor can't help but smile. "Are you from Midgard? Are you Midgardian?"
"What? What's that? I thought we agreed. No name calling."
This time Eleanor really does chuckle before she tries again. "Are you human?"
"Yeah!" he replies, taking a few steps closer. "From Earth. Well, sorta. I guess. What about you? I've never met another one before, from Terra. Have you? Have you been there? Whoa!"
In his excitement, Mr. Star Lord seemed to forget that Eleanor is on the defensive here, protecting her children and brandishing a sword. He gets too close and she brings the point to his throat to remind him.
"Back away from my kids," she says, keeping her voice friendly and light to keep from alarming said kids further.
He stares long and hard at her children, his expression soft and almost wistful. She presses her sword a bit harder into his throat.
The Star Lord is not a total moron, despite all the evidence so far, and he takes two huge steps away. He keeps his hands on his head and seems to vibrate in place, eyes wide and pleading. Everything about him reminds her of an overactive puppy, but he has a gun holstered to his thigh and who knows what else hidden in his trench coat.
"Are you human?" he asks again.
"Sorta," she replies, giving him the answer he gave her. It makes him grin and Eleanor is just curious enough to be honest. "Mom was a mortal. Dad's Asgardian. I was raised there, on Earth, and moved here like… fiveish years ago? Maybe six?"
After everything that's happened, it's a struggle to actually remember.
"Me too!" Well, I'm not sure what my dad was, but my mom was definitely—"
Suddenly the Star Lord is swimming in magic. He is suspended a good fifteen feet above their heads, punching and kicking fruitlessly at the great green glowing energy that holds him there.
"Eleanor?" Loki is beside her in an instant, crouching to bring both their kids into his arms. Although they managed to stay rather quiet during her bizarre conversation with the Star Lord, now Lenara lets out a sob while Vali whimpers.
"I'm fine," she says, her weapon vanishing. "We're fine. I just didn't know who this guy was and he heard me sing and it was freaking me out."
"What is the meaning of this!" And another stranger is before them, drawing her own knife as she sprints down the stairs to stand directly below the Star Lord's prison. "You promised us asylum and now you break your word so easily? Unhand him!"
This stranger is green, female, and far scarier than the idiot flailing wildly in Loki's energy prison.
"He is out of bounds, Gamora," hisses Loki, glaring up at the Star Lord. "He has no right to be here, watching my wife and my children, frightening them. Threatening them?"
He glances at Eleanor and she shakes her head. "It's okay, sweetheart," she says, rubbing his arm. "You can let him go. I'm sorry I scared you, but given everything that's going on… Well, can't be too careful, right?"
The Star Lord is released, looking more like an excited little kid then someone who Loki could have easily killed without flinching. He stands behind the terrifying green woman, hands on both of her shoulders and shaking her slightly.
"That was so freaking cool! Dude, how did you do that? Can I go again?"
The green woman rolls her eyes and then seems to notice that Loki has a kid propped up on each hip. Her eyes go wide as she stares, looking younger and fractionally less terrifying then she did a moment ago.
"You've children?" she whispers. "These are your children?"
Loki sighs. "Yes."
"After… After everything Father did you've managed to have children? You trust yourself with them?" she asks. Behind her the Star Lord stops shaking her to run his palms up and down her bare arms.
Eleanor frowns up at her husband because it really doesn't seem likely this lady knows Odin well enough to call him Father.
"The titan was never my father, Gamora," he snaps. "I have a perfectly dysfunctional one of my own wandering around here somewhere, and another that I killed. You were never supposed to meet my children, but yes. Here they are. And here is my wife, Eleanor. Eleanor, this is the assassin, Gamora. She will assist in this great endeavor."
Eleanor nods at Gamora. Gamora nods back.
"And this man who startled you appears to be her pet of some kind," Loki continues.
"Hey, man!" protests the Star Lord but Gamora actually smiles.
"It is an accurate description. Please call him Quill."
"Yo, why didn't we get invited to the party?"
Three more creatures are standing at the top of the stairs, Thor and Sif loitering behind them.
"Is that..." Eleanor rubs her eyes, well aware that the recent lack of sleep has caused her mind to be off this last week. Threatening Coulson, failing to be involved with whatever probably dangerous and destructive plan Loki has cooked up, is not normal for her, and although last night's pharmaceutical induced, dreamless sleep has brought her back to herself enough to sing with her kids in the garden, she's well aware that visual hallucinations are still entirely possible at this point. "Is that a fucking walking tree? And a goddamn talking raccoon?"
The hulking alien with strangely patterned grey and red skin is the least weird thing she is currently seeing at the top of the stairs.
"Language, Eleanor!" Loki hisses at her side, reaching up to cover the ears of each kid resting on his hips.
"Watch who you're calling raccoon there, sweetheart," says the goddamn talking raccoon.
She turns slightly, not willing to face away from this odd group of strangers but needing to look at Loki for confirmation that she's not lost it completely.
Loki sighs, looking tired and wary. "Gamora keeps odd company," he replies with a shrug. "But she's the best."
"Hey. We're all the best," says the Star Lord – Quill – shaking out his limbs and clearing his ears like being trapped in Loki's magic did strange things to his insides.
"What the fuck did I miss?" she asks, feeling as though she is forcing her way through a dense fog.
"Plenty. Do you care to join us in this planning stage, or would you rather continue not sleeping?" Loki asks, bouncing Lenara on his hip and frowning down at her.
Eleanor slaps at her cheeks, just hard enough to make her more alert than she's been in days. "Okay, okay. Time to wake up."
I have the best readers. Seriously, the best.
Thanks to Heather and Monica for being awesome, speedy betas!
This is the last one till December, people. November is nearly upon us and all my writing time will be devoted to my NaNo novel.
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