A/N: Can this be? An update in only a little bit more than a month?
It is indeed! And I hope you all like it because this chapter closes up Book Two. Book Three is in progress and will get posted like regular chapters, just like I've always done. (Just pretend they're all in gorgeous hardcovers on your shelf.)
Thanks to my reviewers:
PrettyRecklessLaura - Hope you like it!
MadAlice - I'm so glad you love it! (Alas, they will be getting no breaks anytime soon... )
ClaryF - Hope this chapter is sooner than you expected!
ferbette - He may be cute but sometimes he is VERY DUMB. :( Thanks for sticking through it all!
KathrannofQuade - Wow! Thanks so much! I'm so glad you like my stories even with their (early) poor writing... hope you enjoy this chapter!
Without further ado...
THIRTY-TWO
Clenched teeth, no words
All this distance taking its toll
Speaking volumes, silence screaming over your words
I never did you right, I know that
Too many sleepless nights, I own that
I said it time and time, I know that
I want to try again
- "Start Over," Imagine Dragons
It was a few hours before dawn when they landed on Alfheim, and Thor was there to greet them, helping Alana down off of her horse and enveloping her in a bear-like embrace.
A small tendril of sadness wound its way through Loki's heart, to see her embrace Thor with warmth even as she turned away from him… but of course, she was right to, for Thor had done nothing wrong.
This is the price I have paid, he thought, with a tinge of bitterness. Because of my selfishness she has lost her trust in me, and it will take long to grow back.
"Do you wish to rest?" Thor asked. "The royal tent is north a bit," he added.
Alana shook her head. "I don't need a royal tent. Whatever the soldiers have is fine by me."
"Alana, please," Loki said, softly. "Don't – "
She ignored him and said, "I'm not tired, anyway, so why don't you show me to the healing tents, Thor."
Thor inclined his head to her, and, with a sad smile back at Loki, led her away.
Loki watched their forms retreat, and turned away.
She walked among the campsite with Thor as he spoke of what had transpired in the months that they had been on Alfheim.
"Thanos is toying with us," he said bluntly. "He has not deemed the battle worthy enough to come himself – but his forces are pummeling ours nonetheless. They could have finished us off weeks ago, if they had wanted – but they are drawing it out."
She shook her head. "Why haven't you retreated?"
Thor sighed. "We need Alfheim. If we control it, then we can spread to the other realms more easily. But if we lose it we will be hard pressed to find a victory at all."
They approached a grouping of Einherjar, who were sitting and warming themselves by the fire in front of their tents. Their eyes went wide when they saw her, and immediately stood up.
"Your Majesty," one said – he looked familiar to her – and bowed.
She smiled – it was the one who had carried her back from Alfheim, so long ago. "Well met, Dagr," she said. "It seems that we find ourselves on Alfheim again."
Dagr smiled and shook his head. "So long as we have our sal-frelsa here, Thanos will not stand a chance."
Thor chuckled and she nodded to Dagr and the rest of the Einherjar as she and Thor departed.
"You will do much for morale," Thor said. "Even on the first day of fighting, they looked for you."
They paused in front of a grouping of tents. "This is where the healers work," Thor told her.
She thanked him and moved towards them but he said, "Alana," quietly, and she paused.
Thor sighed, his eyes serious. "I know that you have been deeply hurt, Alana – and I am truly sorry that I could not have changed Loki's mind earlier."
She shook her head. "It's not your fault, Thor, I don't blame you."
"Yes," he said, his eyes on hers, "but – Loki is hurting too, Alana. I know what he did was inexcusable, but he did it to try – "
"To protect me," she said, a touch of bitterness in her voice. "He lied to me and tricked me and left me behind on Asgard, alone, for months, because he wanted to protect me."
Thor sighed again. "I know, Alana. And – I am not saying that he was right, only that – only that he did it because of his love for you."
She turned away. "If he truly loved me he would not have hidden me away like a child."
Thor bowed his head. "I know that it will take time for you to forgive him, but… I can see how he regrets his actions, how he aches to set things right – Alana, please, all I ask of you is to speak with him, and make him understand, and help him to mend his error."
"The error is his," she said, quietly, gazing back at Thor. "Not mine."
She turned away from him and ducked into the healer's tent.
Immediately she was struck with the sounds of pain and anguish, and the smell of fear and death, and all thoughts of Loki were driven from her mind. The white-clad healers were moving, steadily but quickly, from soldier to soldier, attempting what they could, but she could see – could feel, in her heart – that it was not going well.
She touched a healer on the shoulder as she passed; as the woman turned and saw her she gasped and curtseyed, saying, "Your Majesty, I didn't know you were here, I thought – "
"I've only just arrived," Alana said, "and I've come to help. Where are the most gravely wounded?"
The healer led her there, and as she passed the rows of injured men she began to hear whispers through the tent. Sal-frelsa is here… the queen is come.
She knelt beside a man whose shoulder and chest were badly mauled; blood poured from a wound on his thigh, and his face was ashen and gray.
She took his hand in hers. "Greetings, Einherjar," she said, softly.
The man opened his eyes slightly and struggled to move. "Your Majesty… is it really you?"
She smiled. "Yes, I'm here. I've come to help you."
He closed his eyes again, inhaling shakily. "Then… make it quick, Your Majesty."
She shook her head. "You are deserving of Valhalla, Einherjar – but you will not die today."
She stood, and placed one hand on his forehead, and one on his chest, and reached – deep into his mind, calming him, stilling him, and deep into his body, ordering it to heal, touching the very bases of what made him – his cells, his nerves, his neurons – and they responded to her call, and moved at her command, his wounds disappearing as his muscles, his veins, knit themselves back together.
She took her hands off of him and he let out a shuddering gasp; she smiled gently at him and squeezed his hand, and he wept, thanking her over and over again.
She moved to the next soldier and the next – and she could feel how her powers had grown since the last time she was on Alfheim, how the Apple had made her stronger, for she was able to heal them faster, to heal more and more grievous wounds, and not feel as weary.
And it was almost a relief, to pour out her power into them, to help, because for every life that she drew back from the void she thought of hundreds that were dead and gone, now.
Hands reached for her, voices whispering to her, calling out in pain, and she knelt beside all of them and laid her hands on them and knit them back together, or sang them to their eternal sleep when she knew that nothing could save them.
She tried to lose herself in the work, the comforting, the healing, but gods, there was still a raging fire burning in her veins that she had to quell – focus and help them now, save your anger for later...
She came to the last Einherjar in the tent, who was young, with dark hair and pale eyes; he was scared, and his hand reached out for her desperately, and for a second the anger subsided, and she swallowed down the tightness in her heart, for he reminded her of Loki, a little, reaching out to her in pain.
She took his hand and held it tightly. "Einherjar," she said softly. "You have fought bravely."
"Thank you, Your Majesty," he said, voice trembling.
She placed her hand over the gash in his chest and closed her eyes, and sang to him softly as she knitted him back together and made him whole again.
"Sal-frelsa," he whispered, in wonder, touching his chest lightly, and grasped her hand in thanks, pressing his lips to the back of her hand.
"I owe you my life, my queen," he said, and her heart ached with pain to hear him call her that, to remember Loki's lips pressed against hers… and then the anger was back, and stronger than ever.
"Rest," she said. "Regain your strength, for we will need you soon."
He nodded and sank back into the bed, and thanked her again, and she moved from the tent, now full of the sounds of laughter and elation, and she smiled a little, in spite of herself, as she ducked into the next tent, full of more Einherjar to heal.
Thanos's forces had driven them back almost to the camp during the fighting that day, so close that they could have taken it if they had wanted – but instead they sneered and retreated back into the fog, taunting them, and leaving scores of dead and wounded Einherjar behind.
Nor had Loki escaped their blades – his horse had fallen in the third hour and fighting N'itouri hand-to-hand had quickly left him with several deep gashes in his side.
He winced as he made his way back to his tent, where Eir was waiting for him, and she bandaged his wounds and told him that they would likely heal quickly, but all he cared for was news of Alana.
"How is she?" he asked Eir, who smiled.
"She has been working non-stop since the moment she arrived here, and though I could tell she wanted to fight, she healed Einherjar in droves as they came in from the field, and fewer men have died today than any other day so far."
"She must be exhausted," he said, softly.
Eir nodded. "She keeps on, though – I think that she is on the last tent. And once she is done – though she has been away – you must let her rest, understand?"
She smiled at him kindly, a twinkle in her eye, but he turned away from her, saying, "Thank you, that will be all."
She curtseyed and left the tent, and he sighed and slowly stood up, his hand pressed to his side, as he pulled on his armor once more, and made his way over to the healing tents to see what she had done for himself.
As he entered the tents, one after another, Einherjar rose from their beds and knelt before him, their arms clasped over their breasts, and told him their stories, told him how she had comforted them, healed them, and his heart grew tight with pride for her, and with regret. How many more could she have saved if I had not been so foolish?
He entered the last tent, which was still filled with wounded Einherjar, and he watched as she smiled softly and sang to the Einherjar, as their wounds disappeared; how they wept, and thanked her.
He did not miss the fury in her eyes when she thought no one could see.
He moved among them too, slowly – he kept his distance from her as she worked, not wanting to distract her – but he knelt beside those still injured, and thanked them for their loyalty and their service, and told them to hold on a little longer.
After a while, she healed the last one in the tent, and stood slowly – he could read the exhaustion in every line of her body – and as she nodded to the healers and made to leave her eyes found his, for a second, and she paused.
She turned away from him and left the tent; he made his farewells and followed after her, emerging from the tent to find her nowhere in sight.
"Alana?" he asked.
He heard a sigh from nearby and turned a corner to find her sitting against a wall.
"Are you all right?" he asked, softly, going to her.
For a moment he was afraid that she would simply ignore him, but she said, "I'm just… tired."
"You should rest," he said, and extended his hand to her, which she ignored, pushing herself up from the ground.
"Which way is the tent?" she asked, brushing the dirt from her breeches, leaving streaks of blood across them.
He hesitated, unsure. "Mine, or… did you want one of your own?"
She sighed again. "Yours, for now. I need to heal you, too."
His heart ached a little more, for of course she could see what had happened to him.
They walked together, not talking – Alana kept quiet, but he could still see that rage simmering underneath her skin, so he held his tongue.
He nodded to the two soldiers guarding his tent and ducked inside, holding open the canvas for Alana.
"Sit down, and take off your armor," she said, pointing at the bed.
He did as she asked, wincing slightly as the armor rubbed against the bandages, as she washed the blood off her hands.
She sighed as she dried her hands, and sat next to him. She began to remove the bandages from his chest, exposing the gashes across his side.
"You should have gone to the tents," she murmured, contemplating, fingers lightly probing the wounds – he winced again and she removed her hands. "This one," she said, pointing to the old gash on his ribs, "is old."
He sighed. "It won't heal – Eir thinks the blade was coated in something, but it's just a scratch, and the others, well… in a week or so they'll be gone – really, Alana, I'm fine, don't waste your - "
"Just – be quiet," she said, shortly. "This might feel odd."
She placed her hands on him; one over his heart, fingers just grazing the wound on his ribs, and one across the wounds on his side, and closed her eyes, and he inhaled sharply at the strangeness of it, the warmth, of the feeling of the skin closing itself up. Even the bruises that had accumulated over his body over the weeks melted away, and she exhaled slightly as she took her hands off of him.
"There," she said. "That's done."
"Thank you," he said softly, and then, unable to hold it in, "Alana, I truly am sorry – " but she cut him off with a shake of her head, her eyes snapping to his – and now he could see that she was about to explode, and in a way he welcomed it – let her do it, I deserve it –
"Do you think that that means anything to me? You left me, Loki, you left me alone on Asgard while you went off to war – and every damn morning that I woke up alone I thought that you might be dead, you could have been dead, you – selfish – how could you?" she shouted.
"I was trying to keep you safe, but I – "
"I DON'T CARE! We were supposed to do this together, Loki, damn you! And now you've sacrificed your men and your advantage all because you were too damn stupid to understand that I can take care of myself!"
He bit his tongue and merely bowed his head – I deserve this –
"And I thought I would never see you again, Loki, it's been months, it's been months and I thought you were dead – " and she gasped for breath and suddenly tears were streaming down her cheeks – "I thought you were dead, Loki, I thought you were gone forever, I was seeing you everywhere, and I couldn't – I couldn't get to Alfheim – and I wasn't there, I couldn't save you – " and she broke off, struggling desperately to control herself.
"Oh, darling," he whispered, his heart heavy. "What have I done?"
She punched him in the chest, once, hard, and then collapsed against him.
He held her in his arms. "Alana, I can't undo what I've done, I know that, but… I never wanted to hurt you, I – I truly thought that I was protecting you, but I was so wrong – in only a day you've healed hundreds upon hundreds of Einherjar, and my foolishness… it's cost so many lives, I see that now, and – I can't make amends for this, for what's happened, I know I can't…"
"We're stronger together," she whispered against his chest, "not when we're apart…"
She pulled away from him, wiping at her eyes, and now she just looked exhausted.
"I know you thought you were doing the right thing," she said softly, "even though it was incredibly stupid."
"I didn't," he said, bluntly. "I knew that it was wrong, deep down, but I ignored it…"
She rubbed her forehead. "I… need to sleep now, I need to rest – "
He nodded, though his heart ached, and said, "Shall I escort you to your tent, then?"
She sighed. "I'll stay here," she said, quietly. "At least for tonight. If I try to go anywhere right now I'll probably collapse."
"Do you… do you want me to leave?" he asked, softly, his eyes tinged with pain.
There was a silence, and then she shook her head. "No," she whispered. "I don't – want you to disappear again."
She sat down on the bed, and began to remove her armor.
Loki knelt beside her. "Can you ever forgive me, Alana?" he asked softly. "For what I've done."
She sighed again, and turned away from him. "It's in the past now, Loki. And it'll be a memory, in time. As long as we're agreed on something," she said.
"Of course," he said. "Anything, love."
She turned to him, and her eyes were sad, and more weary than he had ever seen them, but underneath they were steely and hard. "You will never do this to me again."
He bowed his head. "I swear it."
She unbuckled her gauntlets and climbed into the bed, wrapping the covers around her.
"Good night," she said, and turned away from him.
"Sleep well," he said softly.
In the middle of the night, he awoke, to an uncomfortable heat. He rolled over, towards where Alana lay, and went to touch her before he realized that the heat was emanating from her, that she was sweating despite the cool night air and the breeze.
"Alana?" he whispered, gently shaking her. She mumbled and rolled towards him, her eyes fluttering. "Are you all right?" he asked.
"Too warm," she murmured. "It's too warm…"
He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, which was burning up. "Alana, I think you have a fever," he said.
"Feels nice," she said softly.
"The fever?" he asked – she seemed a little delirious, and he wasn't sure what she meant – "No," she responded, "you."
"This?" he asked, placing his hand against her forehead again, and she sighed and nodded.
"I'm taking you to Eir," he said, pushing off the covers, "something's wrong –" but she shook her head, a hand on his chest to stop him. "I'm okay… it's just a… side effect of – of the Apple."
"I really should take you to Eir, Alana," he said again, but she murmured, "No… just need you."
"Alana, you're delirious, you don't remember – " and he bit back the words he was going to say, you don't remember what I've done.
"Just… hold me," she said, softly. "It'll go away…"
He sighed in resignation and wrapped his arms around her – she made a little noise of relief and tucked her head against his chest, and his heart ached as he held her – gods, how he had longed for this, just to have her in his arms, in the dark – how had he had not known just how much he craved her touch until it had been taken from him?
They lay like this for a while, but the fever didn't seem to be retreating, and so he whispered, "Alana?"
She murmured in response.
"Are you feeling better?"
She shook her head slightly. "Need you blue," she mumbled and he inhaled sharply.
"Alana, I don't know if I… I don't know if I can keep you safe."
"I trust you," she murmured and closed her eyes again, and his heart was beating rapidly.
The times that they had touched when he had shifted for her had been few, and their contact limited – oftentimes just her hands on his face, or her lips on his. Now, her body was pressed against his, and her clothing would not help her - if he could not shield the full force of his form, she would be badly burned.
And he remembered all the nightmares that Thanos had fed him, of holding Alana, screaming in pain as she froze to death, and he swallowed hard.
But she had said, I trust you, and she was in pain…
He sighed and slowly let his Jotunn form creep through his body, shielding himself with more concentration than he ever had before.
She murmured something pleased against his chest, and pressed closer to him, looking up at him with fever-bright eyes.
"You never knew what they meant," she said softly, her fingers brushing over the raised lines on his face, and he closed his eyes, for a second lost in her warm touch.
She traced the one on his forehead. "This is your crown, and your horns… and these are your claws," she continued, touching the jagged lines on the back of his hands.
"And your mantle," she whispered, tracing the curves across his shoulders, "and your heart," she whispered, her palm pressed to the curves in the center of his chest.
"I know your heart meant well," she murmured. "I'm sorry…"
"No, Alana, it's not – it's not your fault. You don't need to apologize to me."
She mumbled something and drifted back into sleep, and he held her close to him, his arms wrapped around her, their legs intertwined.
He knew that he would not sleep another second that night, not for fear of losing control, so he merely lay awake, Alana in his arms, thinking.
I trust you…
It was ironic that even though he had tricked her, lied to her, and lost her trust in seemingly all matters, the one thing she still trusted him with was her life, as she slept.
He sighed and Alana shifted slightly in his arms, fingers brushing his chest.
He pressed his lips to her forehead, and it seemed cooler and less feverish – he let the blue slip away from his hand and pressed it to her forehead, but she was still too warm.
He sighed again and pulled her closer to him.
It was early morning when she awoke, feeling as though she was surrounded by ice.
She shifted a little and the icy bands wrapped around her back shifted too; she opened her eyes to find Loki holding her close, in his full Jotunn form.
"What…" she began to ask and Loki let out a sudden sigh of relief, his arms uncurling from around her as the blue faded away from his skin. "Thank goodness you're awake, I've been on edge all night," he said.
She pushed away from him, slightly. "What happened?" she asked.
"You had a fever," he said. "You said it was a side effect of the Apple?"
She groaned and passed a hand over her eyes. "Not again."
"I didn't even know that this was happening to you, love," he said softly, a note of concern in his voice. "But you were burning up all night – "
"It's getting better," she said. "It started when I was – well, when I was trying to get… here. I pushed myself too hard, I thought that the Apple was done working. But I thought that the fevers had stopped, it hasn't happened in weeks… but it's not a big deal – "
"Of course it is," he said. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She shrugged and got out of the bed, braiding back her hair. "It only happens when I use a lot of energy – I asked Eir yesterday, she said it was only a side effect of the Apple reworking me on the molecular level, that the fevers would go away soon."
"I'm sorry."
She sighed. "Loki, please, stop apologizing, I understand, all right? I told you – I just need time – "
"I know," he said, softly. "I know."
She turned away from him and pulled on her boots, lacing them tightly. "I'm fighting today," she said. "Not just healing."
He bowed his head. "Of course."
There was a pause, and then he said, "Alana, last night you trusted me with your life. Are you willing to trust it to me again today?"
She looked up at him. "Of course I trust you with my life. I always have."
"Even… even after what I've done?" he asked, quietly.
"Oh, Loki," she sighed. "I trust you with my life because I love you – I'll always love you. But right now I don't like you very much."
He nodded, and she strapped on her gauntlets. "Now, what's the plan?"
They rode side by side into the battle, and around them, Einherjar rallied with shouts of glee and their enemies fell.
But they were soon separated by the chaos, and the little part of Loki's mind that was not currently occupied with fighting for his life once again feared for her.
He tried to squash it down – she is more than capable, she is fine - but he could not help the hitch of breath that came whenever he saw a soldier falling, and the terrible, guilty relief when he saw the falling streak was of gold or gray, and not of blue.
There was a darkening of the clouds and lightning erupted from the sky as Thor brought his hammer to the ground, throwing back N'itouri and Chitauri and the other species that made up Thanos's army.
In the brightness of Thor's lightning he caught a glimpse of her, some ways away, her braid whipping through the air, daggers whirling through enemies around her even as she stretched out her fingers to heal wounded Einherjar.
He smiled slightly and blasted a row of N'itouri with Gungnir, obliterating them.
But despite the Einherjar healing on the battlefield and the combined efforts of himself, Alana, and Thor, there were just too many enemies, and they were not pandering to them now. Now it was a bloodbath, the screams of horses and men and creatures ringing throughout his head, and the only thought was survive, survive, survive.
And then suddenly the screams were gone, muted, and he heard her voice, soft in his mind.
Loki, she said, this isn't working, we need another plan.
"There is no other plan!" he shouted, stabbing his sword through the chest of a Chitauri.
Lucky for you I've got one, then.
And then a strange, third pressure was inside of his mind – Norns, was that Thor?
Thor's voice was slightly panicked. Alana, what is this –
I need both of you to work together on this, and we're too far away from each other.
He flicked his hand and with a wave of green light three N'itouri tore each other to pieces, each thinking they were attacking him, while at the same time getting a vague mental image of a hammer smashing through a skull and a faint twinge of static electricity prickling his skin.
"I really hate this," he muttered, and Thor said, It's not like I'm enjoying it either.
He could feel Alana sigh in exasperation. We need something that can take out a huge portion of their army at once, and none of us can do that by ourselves on this scale.
Then what? Thor asked, and Loki got another vague image of a hammer plowing through bodies.
This, Alana said, and then, Can you see me?
He looked around and saw her, hovering in the sky, deflecting spears thrown at her with a glance.
His mind tinged with panic. "Alana, what – "
I need lightning, Thor, now, as much as you can manage, right where I'm flying, and Loki – I need a blast from Gungnir towards the lightning.
And then, so softly and in such a deep corner of his mind it was like a whisper only to him, I can do it, Loki – trust me.
He could feel Thor smiling as he raised Mjolnir to the sky, and the clouds were already crackling around them. His heart was pounding – "Alana," he started, but that soft caress came again. Please, Loki…
And so he put aside his fear and simply trusted her.
He swung Gungnir around and the golden beam rushed forwards, towards her, just as the lightning burst down from the sky, and she threw her hands up and Gungnir's blast – deflected? – and crashed into the lightning.
In the blink of an eye she had thrown her hands out and the golden lightning was parting around her, raining down on their enemies, crashing to the ground so precisely that a bolt fell not three feet from him, blasting a Chitauri into nothingness.
The bolts rained down over the whole battlefield, and then there was a ringing silence.
Before any soldiers on either side could rise he was racing across the battlefield to where she was dropping to the ground – let her be safe, he prayed, Norns, please -
She landed hard, a small shockwave of dust circling out from around her, and rose, her eyes flaming silver and her hand raised as Thanos's remaining forces picked themselves off the ground and charged towards her.
Loki slid into position behind her, his sword drawn, and she turned to him, and he could barely recognize her, her eyes hardened steel, a wild sort of light on her face.
"I told you I could do it," she said, and turned away.
Thor landed hard next to them, shaking the earth, and they took up their positions as the enemy approached.
Alana ignited a shield around them, the shimmering light deflecting the bolts of the energy weapons that were now raining upon them
Already his green magic was shimmering on the field, clones tricking soldiers into turning on their own, and thunderclouds were darkening overhead.
But Alana closed her eyes, despite the chaos, and lifted one hand slightly, making a pinching motion.
There was sudden silence on the field as Thanos's forces collapsed to the ground.
The shield dissolved around them and Alana took in a shuddering breath, one leg almost buckling beneath her, and he was there, his arm around her waist, lowering her gently to the ground.
"Told you…" she repeated softly, "I could do it."
Thor's face was pale with shock, but his eyes were full of concern. "Alana, are you – "
"I'm fine," she said determinedly, half-heartedly trying to push Loki away, though her hands were shaking. Thor looked to Loki, who seemed just as shell-shocked as he – but then he had always compartmentalized himself better, and right now his full attention was on Alana.
Loki touched her cheek gently. "Love… you said you trusted me with your life - please, let me take you to the tent, you need a healer - "
"The tents… need to get to the tents," she said a little blankly, still trying to move away from him.
"No, Alana, you can't, you're exhausted – healing will only sap your strength more, I can't let you - "
"Have to," she murmured.
"Alana, I can't – "
"Loki, I – I have to do this…" she said, "I can't let them…please just take me there," she said, her eyes determined, even as her body trembled in his arms.
He sighed and grudgingly agreed, but managed to convince her on their way to the healing tents to only heal those who were about to die of their injuries, and leave the rest until tomorrow – her hands trembled as she placed them on Einherjar, her body slumped in the chair next to their beds.
Even so, the number was high - she tried to stand up from the last bed and nearly collapsed again – he swept her up into his arms, saying, "Enough – you need to rest."
Alana nodded wearily, too tired to object, her arms around his neck and her head pressed to his chest.
She managed to stay awake until they reached the tent, though, and Loki laid her down on their bed, and sat down next to her, slowly removing her bloodstained armor.
"Darling," he said softly, "do you know what you've done, today?"
Her eyelids were drifting shut, but she shook her head. "Just did… what I needed to."
"We won, love."
She nodded faintly. "That's good…"
He touched her forehead, lightly, which was already past warm and on its way to feverish. "Do you want me to hold you again?"
She shook her head wearily. "No – you need to sleep too… I don't want you to stay awake all night again…"
"I don't mind, darling," he said softly.
She shook her head again.
"All right," he said, quietly, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Go to sleep, love – you've done wonderfully today."
"I did it for them," she protested, but no real fire was in her voice, just exhaustion.
He smiled slightly. "I know, love."
But she was already asleep.
After Loki had (forcibly) taken Alana from the healing tents to rest, the revels in the Asgardian camp began.
The fires were stoked high, and what mead they had left flowed freely, as Einherjar rejoiced and sang and wept and shouted to the sky.
But Thor, though he rejoiced with his men, was worried.
Today Alana had won the battle for them, had taken back Alfheim nearly all by herself. If Thanos had more forces here, they would be few, and quickly hunted down.
But the power that she had displayed went far beyond what he could have ever dreamed – and this still with the Apple not yet finished strengthening her.
Loki's words from months ago lingered in his mind – Thanos wants her specifically – and how he knew that Thor did not know.
Before, perhaps, Thanos would have wanted her as bait, to lure in Loki, or to punish him. Loki had not told him much of what transpired at Sanctuary, but he could easily imagine the caliber of the punishment that would await someone who had lost not one Infinity Stone, but two…
Now he was sure that word would reach Thanos of her powers, and Thor shuddered to think of what could happen if Alana was not on their side.
Every time he closed his eyes to blink he could see her, out of the corner of his eye, pinching her fingers together and then the silence and the noise of a thousand bodies hitting the ground at once.
He had known that she was strong.
But not this strong.
Loki ducked out of the tent, hearing the shouts of victory and revels rising through the night sky as Einherjar, healed and flushed with success, made free with drink and song.
He flicked his fingers and a green light flashed across his tent – Alana would sleep like the dead, he was sure, but shielding the tent from noise was prudent nonetheless.
As he walked among the Einherjar, they kneeled, murmuring, minn Konungr – my king.
He responded in High Aesir as well, with minn Drengr - my warrior.
One called out to him after they had exchanged the formal after-battle response, saying, "The queen, Your Majesty… is she well?"
"She is tired," he said, "but she is fine."
"Varthi, Nornir," the soldier said solemnly. Norns, protect her.
He inclined his head in thanks.
He finally found Thor, staring into the fire, drink in hand, but he looked up nonetheless with a small smile on his face.
"Minn Konungr," Thor said, inclining his head as Loki sat beside him.
"Minn Brothir," Loki said softly in return.
They sat for a while, listening to the whoops of Einherjar in the dark and staring at the blaze of the fire, sipping at the fruity wine.
"I do not know what to think," Thor said after a while.
Loki sighed.
"She is strong," he said, almost guiltily. "I knew that, but Thor, I swear, if I had known she was this strong I would not have – "
Thor's brow furrowed, "No, brother, I'm not accusing you."
He stared into the fire a moment longer, then continued, "Perhaps – perhaps you were wise to leave her behind."
Loki nearly choked on his wine; Thor thumped him on the back.
"You're saying this now?" he asked. "I thought victory would make you self-righteous; instead you defend me."
"You saw her today, Loki," Thor said. "She was – changed, somehow – not much, but – I never thought that Alana could do something like that."
Loki nodded thoughtfully. "The Apple's effects are more than I could have imagined – "
"No, not like that. Not that – not that she was strong enough to do it, but that she did. I could never have imagined her killing on a scale like that – not even killing an enemy."
Loki was silent for a moment. "She did what she had to," he said softly. "She finished the fight."
He passed a hand over his eyes. "But I fear that this war will change her, Thor, make her – hard, and uncaring, and cynical, and I could not bear that."
Thor's eyes were gentle. "Then we must try to keep her safe."
Loki smiled slightly, his eyes on the fire.
"Enjoy the feast, brother." He clapped Loki on the shoulder and stood; his worries about Thanos's plans had no place here, not when Loki could finally rest for an evening, with whatever regrets he had about Alana, about the whole Alfheim campaign, pushed away at last, through the love of his troops, and the fire blazing in the night, and the last of the sweet fruity wine on his tongue.
end of book two.