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 FORTY EIGHT
THURSDAY, MAY 3RD 2012
0758 HOURS
SUBTERRANEAN BUNKER
LOCATION UNKNOWN
NORA
Its strange how easy this was. A part of me still feels like I should be furious with him, and even entertains the dangerous idea that I should have slapped him for hurting my kitten. I could blame the alcohol for at least half of that idea. The thought that I might have the courage to do something that reckless is a nice thought, but even with a layer of intoxicated courage I'm not that foolish.
Instead, I'm resting my head on his shoulder as he plays with my hair and wait for him to tell me a story. Its like the feelings are still there, but they are trapped somehow behind a barrier. Its like the difference between the definition of a lion, and having the creature sitting in front of you.
I know exactly what this is, but knowing doesn't make me care any more either way. S.H.I.E.L.D was always concerned, given my conditions and my past or lack there of, that I ran the risk of slipping into depression. Not the occasional bouts of sadness, but real depression, the kind they make drugs to fix. It was one of the things my psychiatrist always looked out for in our sessions, but it never happened. I always made sure I kept enough happiness in my life to avoid it.
Its here now though, and in a strangely detached and clinical way I'm glad it is. This numbness might turn out to be very useful. There's a clarity to your mind when you don't have to really worry about the emotions affecting your decisions.
That clarity let me realize I owed Loki. Yes, he was the one whose actions made my kitten sick, but he also fixed him as soon as I made the request. Both of those things were done with my happiness in mind, and I have long since moved past the misconception that anything here is truly free.
But there is so little I can give. Whatever magic Loki thinks I have I still don't sense it in me, and all the possessions that I have here came from him first and are therefore not mine to give, so that left me with only one real option. The only thing I can give Loki is myself.
Its why I leaned into him, ignoring the logical urgings of my numb emotions and letting my body rest against his as my fingers danced over the fascinating pattern of his armor and my ears waited.
THURSDAY, MAY 3RD 2012
0759 HOURS
SUBTERRANEAN BUNKER
LOCATION UNKNOWN
LOKI
There was nothing profound about the memory. The day I met her there was grand adventure or ceremony underway, and though I was in the company of my old companions it was simply to exercise our horses.
"At the edges of Asgard..." I start, feeling the slight shift in her shoulders as settles in turning her head a little so she can see me better but still recline comfortably into my side. "...there is a large wheat field near the sea, and in those waters there are a few scattered islands that despite being small are rather lovely." As my words continue to paint the picture of that place I find myself sinking into the image a bit as well. Those times were so simple and peaceful, though I didn't think of it that way at the time I now have hindsight to know better.
"We were running our horses. I was with Thor and his four companions, the warriors three and Lady Sif." The mention of those names does darken my mood a bit, but the details of my memory that precede my words calms it down. It was a very pleasant encounter.
"Fandral, the illegitimate son of a nobleman, and thrice removed cousin to Thor was as usual going out of his way to demonstrate his skills, and in this instance that skill was wrangling horses. Our destination was one of those small islands, but as we galloped through the wheat fields we came across a wandering unattended mare, or so we thought." I can't stop the smirk as I recall Fandral's panicked expression when he lost control of his mount and his seat on its back.
"In mid stride, some five yards from the mare Fandral's horse suddenly reared up, and as it stood on two legs it awkwardly tried to back up in defiance of his attempt to stay in the saddle long enough to control it. As he fell into the dirt and his stallion trotted nervously off, you rose from it."
She was quite a sight in that moment, all of us mildly shocked by the fiery spirited young maiden who rose from the grass with wheat flowers caught in her hair. She stumbled to a surprised stand and before her eyes could even identify us properly she called the fallen fool a 'tardy-gaited whoreson' seeming to intuit his bastard birth before she realized he wasn't alone.
The next shift in her surprised expression was tinged with embarrassment and fear. She fell back down into the dirt just as quickly as she rose from it, kneeling before her princes, and silently praying for our mercy because she realized she must have just insulted a member of the inner court.
"You too had been out exercising your own horse, and had decided to let it graze while you rested in the grass. An unusual choice, but not unheard of since most at least respect the summer crop enough to avoid trampling it. You were dressed in lavender, a simple pleated sleeveless dress with a banded sash and a pair of wrapped leather sandals along with the simple knots holding your disheveled hair. You were quite livid for almost being crushed under a set of hooves, even your horse was angry on your behalf. It had to be separated from Fandral's stallion, who it was quite determined to bite on your behalf." The next memory is a little less pleasant, and I recall being mildly upset that Fandral's overzealous need to impress his friends ended up getting someone hurt, even if it was a stranger.
"But as you dropped back into a bow out of respect for your prince's, you did so with a wince. You had twisted your ankle." Sif, who at that age had still not distinguished herself enough to earn her title as 'lady' may have been the first to move with intent to examine her injury but since she was not the first to voice it the honor went to Hogun. After Hogun collected both wayward horses and handed one off to both Sif and the much slimmer version of Volstagg he turned to Thor.
"You were so very worried you had offended us, you would of held that bow forever." Hogun recognized that. While she was content to let her humility beg for her so she didn't say anything to worsen her situation, Hogun took it on himself to speak for her, asking thor's permission to help her, if there was to be no punishment. Thor laughed, and said she was spared because she amused him, and while I know that was a little offensive she was to busy being relieved to care.
"I did that a lot, didn't I?" I am a bit surprised by the question. She had let me go on so long I thought I was only going to have a silent observer to this tale, not that I mind, I quite enjoy her curiosity. "Play in the fields."
"You enjoyed the peace and solitude of them, yes." She never said it out loud, at least that I can recall, but I always got the impression that while she enjoyed the beauty of the scenery, the other half of her reason for venturing into those fields as often as she did was just to escape the pressures of her life for a little while.
"Do you remember it?" I ask afterwards, because something in her question sounded more like she wanted a confirmation then mere curiosity. I can feel the slightest hint of a tremor in her muscles before I feel her nod a yes against my collar bone.
"I remember walking in the grass with myself."
THURSDAY, MAY 3RD 2012
0806 HOURS
SUBTERRANEAN BUNKER
LOCATION UNKNOWN
NORA
I felt him move, his leathers shifting as he craned his neck to look down at me in curious questioning because of the wording I chose.
"My..." I pause to correct the word 'dreams' before I continue. This was so much easier when I just could make myself think about the patterns in the metal, why did I have to go and speak? "...memories are a can of slivers. They're jagged and tiny and always find a way under my skin."
Its actually nice when his cool fingers slide between the tiny hairs at the back of my neck and he lets his thumb trace some sort of pattern behind the shell of my ear. I should shudder away from his touch, I know I should, but the distraction is nice, and his hands are soft. I always hoped the first hands to touch me would be soft.
"I see myself..." There's a tiny chuckle at the accuracy of this part. "...in light purple in green fields of tall grass. I was a child and a woman at the same time. I was holding my own hand while I fell asleep and sang myself a lullaby."
He is so quiet for such a long time, that his silence actually makes me turn my head from his shoulder so I can actually look at his expression. Its strange because while it is gentle and calm, the happiness I see there is so intense its almost hard to hold his gaze. He must see it because some of that intensity vanishes, or is hidden back behind his walls.
"I've waited so long for some proof my efforts weren't in vain, that there was hope for your memories." Then his thumb drifts from behind my ear to the front of it, turning his light caress into more of a light hold, though that is as far as his show of force goes. "Your memories may be returning in pieces but I am sure, in time, they will be whole again. We will make them so."
THURSDAY, MAY 3RD 2012
0808 HOURS
SUBTERRANEAN BUNKER
LOCATION UNKNOWN
LOKI
I almost gave into hope for a second when she said that. She remembers what I want her to, but she has misinterpreted that memory. Its such a grievous error its almost a crime, both to my plans, and the woman she was before she became this innocent creature resting in my arms.
It was not that she did not have innocence in her before, but she never had the chance to enjoy it for very long. Her life made her grow up far too quickly; she was a woman even while she was a child.
"I did not know you as a child." I tell her when I met her she had left that age for womanhood; not just because it is true, but perhaps if I am gentle and patient about it I can make her reevaluate her fragments and come to the right conclusion. I want to tell her so much but it is a truth she needs to learn from herself. "Were you lovely at that age too?"
THURSDAY, MAY 3RD 2012
0809 HOURS
SUBTERRANEAN BUNKER
LOCATION UNKNOWN
NORA
Part of me wants to blush like a teenager at the part where he called me lovely, the compliment is a welcome one because right now I just want something to feel like happiness again. At the same time though its expected because why wouldn't he think I was lovely, if he loves me?
"I don't know." I want to be happy, but there is so much in the way. "I can never see my face in those dreams, I just know that little girl is a part of me." So much frustration, and pain, and foreign emotions so strong they make me ache in my need for answers. "I can't even remember what my own face as a child looked like, but that blond boy is crystal clear."