So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
You can also find this story on ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN under the same title and pen name along with a place to post suggestions.
Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album listed on my profile page too.
DAY THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
THURSDAY, MAY 3RD 2012
0556 HOURS
SUBTERRANEAN BUNKER
LOCATION UNKNOWN
NORA
He says I'm better then that, its a sentence that carries the weight of memories I don't have, of whoever the version he knows of me was. To me though, all it says is I'm not a racist, and he's glad. I can be satisfied with that. I am satisfied with that.
I have to be, because now that the situation has calmed down the guilt has kicked in like a mule, as well as the anxiety. What I said, it could have ruined everything! Almost calling him a monster, and then when he changed, the look in his eyes said that would have been the worst mistake I ever made. I want to apologize, both to him and myself. I'm not this kind of person, I shouldn't let myself even if I'm upset.
"I don't handle these things, these 'memories' well." I say that first so he doesn't misunderstand what I'm apologizing for. "I'm sorry." It only takes those words to start to fray my cord of control, and I make myself turn away because now its too quiet and too intense between us and I have no idea what to do next!
He decides for me, too kind and cruel as he is to just leave me alone with myself. The leather over his fingers is almost frigid as it caresses my skin when he catches my wrist and stills the escape attempt of my feet. I couldn't describe it with words if I tried, but something in his touch says he is afraid of what my retreat means. God, why are we both so broken?
"I'm alright." I didn't intend to say it, I didn't want to speak at all, but the words wanted to exist and so they did. His response is to do more then hold my hand. I can feel his presence brush against the clothes on my back as he moves in and embraces me like I am made of fragile glass and the rocks are coming.
"No, you are not." And he might be right about that too.
Who am I kidding? "No, I'm not."
THURSDAY, MAY 3RD 2012
0600 HOURS
SUBTERRANEAN BUNKER
LOCATION UNKNOWN
LOKI
It was foolish of me but it also filled me with such warmth. I keep reminding myself that she is not the woman she was, she cannot be if she cannot remember living that life. It doesn't stop me from forgetting that and expecting her to act like the woman I once knew from time to time. It leaves me disappointed with the results, but on occasion it pleases me instead.
She has lost much of her strength. Her body has become weak from having only the 'food' of Midgard to sustain it, and the interference of these mortals with the poison they masquerade before her as medicine. I tamp down that cresting irritation before it can reach the surface, this murderous intent, it has no place in my heart while she is in my arms.
But beyond the flesh that she lives in, her heart has become softer as well. Why would it not when she has lost all that made her reinforce it? This Nora, she is the embodiment of everything that was innocent and gentle in my Arnora. It is like a knife to me now that I am the one who makes her cry.
If I were a better man I would have left her in peace, I never would have taken her. But I have never been a selfless man. My nature is a covetous one, and she has always brought that part out of me with such strength. When I laid eyes on her as I walked unseen down the hallways of S.H.I.E.L.D, after centuries apart and the acceptance that she was lost to me forever in death. No, the concept that I had choices to choose between did not exist. For once the Norns saw fit to be kind. I had a chance to have her again, and I was going to take it. She was mine.
She is mine. Every part of her is mine. The breath that hitches in her chest only to exhale slowly as she feels my cheek rest against her crown is mine. The soft strands of her umber hair that tease my cheek are mine. The uniqueness of her green eyes, which always reminded me of nature itself and suited her so well, those are mine. All of her belongs to me, even the very shade of her goose bump decorated skin.
I banished the Jotun form beneath the Aesir one, but the cold of that form has not quite surrendered all of its bite to the warmth this form brings with it. She is sweet to not shift away or complain about this discomfort I can't help but cause her, but I'm not going to make her endure it now that I've noticed it.
It seems I surprised her a little when she felt the first brush of fur from the lining of the cloak I summoned about her shoulders.
THURSDAY, MAY 3RD 2012
0604 HOURS
SUBTERRANEAN BUNKER
LOCATION UNKNOWN
NORA
I don't know which part surprised me more, the wave of comfortable warmth, the weight and softness of fur, or the tingle of energy as it filtered around me!
Feeling me react to the magick's presence Loki relaxes his already gentle grip and lets me step out from his hands so I can examine what he just did freely. He gave me a cloak. Its a heavy material that reminds me of plum velvet, lined with brown fur that would put Angora to shame, and floral embroidery to match the scent clinging to it.
Its a perfume of some kind, I can tell that much as the scent evolves in my senses. I know this because I went to a boutique once with Natasha. She was there for something particular but when she noticed my awe she had one of the ladies explain about the scent notes and blending. When we finally left, my bag was heavy with bodywashes and essential oils, and not long after that S.H.I.E.L.D's human resources department got involved and Clint showed up at my quarters on base and 'told' me to start practicing restraint or they would have to take my oils away.
That period of experimentation gave me some know how in recognizing scents. The top note is easy enough to recognize. Cinnamon isn't a spice that has been uncommon in my life given how much I enjoy cooking. Neither is the Cardamom that makes up one of the middle notes, along with the pine like scent of juniper berry, or the light floral of Rhododendrons, which I wouldn't know except I found them growing in a garden near my old place in New York. The cloves emerges cleanly as well because my nose recognizes them from cooking, even if as a base note it comes out last.
It reminds me of an oriental garden, and strangely enough as I draw the cloak around me like a cocoon while burying my face in the furs and test my lung capacity I also am filled with a sense of home. I may have said I don't handle memories well, those little snippets of things without context usually upset me, but this one is like a wave of reassurance.
I want to just stay like this. The temptation is almost crushing, but I'm stronger then it is, and taking one more breath just to keep the scent in my lungs I lift my eyes to look at his patient ones. I don't even need to ask the question.
"Yes, this was yours." I have to look away again, but not because I feel tears. There's nothing prickling at my eyes, they are dry and my emotions are calm. Calmer then they should be I think since he just told me something enormous without telling me at all. He loved me so much that when he couldn't have me, he kept my things, he cherished them so much he didn't even let the scent of 'my' perfume fade.
I'm just trying not to let my heart think about that and let my mind think of the words I need now.
When I start speaking theres a message in my eyes as well, a plea for him to not interrupt me until I finish, a plea he sees and agrees to.
"My past terrifies me sometimes Loki, because most of it makes no sense, and for so long all of it seemed impossible but I am so tired of being scared and empty. Can we have this conversation already?"
He moved toward me when I uttered the word 'terrifies' and he stands before me. My palms resting in the cradle of his hands, but not held, as I turn my eyes up to meet his own turned down. "I spent centuries without you Arnora. and if you asked me I would spend just as many talking to you now just for the gift of your voice in my ears."
"I will answer your questions my love, if you will answer mine. Can you do that for me?" The affection in his eyes turns to solemn concern, as my eyes turn to the feel of rough leather brushing against the rough skin of my scar under his thumb. The scar, that's wrong, the 'dream' doesn't match the story.
He must have felt me shiver because his hands curl around mine now, instead of being content in cradling. Its his way of drawing my back and reminding me of the security and stability of his presence. What ever visions in my mind, they are not here and I am not alone with them.
"Can you share these demons with me?" he asks, really asks. Not a farce of a request but one I truly think he would accept the answer of 'I need more time' to. "Since I have shared mine?"
I don't though, I'm scared of them, and I don't know if I even want them, that hasn't changed, and thats why I'm ready, because I don't think that will ever change. Not in three years, or three thousand. I will always be on the fence about my past until the day I finally burn it down.
Watching him cringe softly at the mention of his own 'demons' makes me decide that today is as good as any day to light the match. "I'm the bravest person I know. Yes, I think I can."
NOTES FOR THE READERS:
I created a little bit of Nine Realms Biology in this chapter. We all know Loki can change his appearance between Jotun and Asgardian, and while in the movies he only does it while being touched by a Jotun, or touching the Casket of Ancient Winters, both of those seem to be forced transformations rather than willing ones. I imagine now that he knows about his heritage though he can do it at will if he chooses, but I also don't think it is is instantaneous is turning a light switch on and off. Frost giants are able to freeze an entire Asgardian male into a block of ice, that has to be a very intense cold. So it doesn't make sense from a biological stand point for that to just snap on and off, so there must be a transition period with the temperatures, hence the part where even though his skin is pink again, he is still cold enough to give Nora head to toe goosebumps for a few minutes.