Part 2 of the BOUND by MAGIC Series
Sequel to FOUND by MAGIC
°.✩┈┈∘*┈🌙┈*∘┈┈✩.°CHILD of MAGIC°.✩┈┈∘*┈🌙┈*∘┈┈✩.°
For the first few days, this was how their training went: Hermione was blindfolded and seeking out Loki with only her seiðr and then a game of catch with seiðr. Between the two, her favourite game-er... training exercise... was definitely "catch". On occasion, Loki had moved them further into the forest when Thor and his fellow friends had opted to try and disrupt their training.
He would have none of that.
Instead, he wasted no time in placing illusions around the forest that had the five wandering lost in their oh-so-familiar playground. While his mother had admittedly scolded him for the little prank, the sparkle in her eyes told him just how disappointed she was in him. Oh really, as if she hadn't taught him everything he knew.
Though their training had become repetitious in the most basic terms, he had been far more vigilant with Hermione's eating habits and rest periods. Between training, eating, and meditation, Loki included walks in the lesser rings of Ásgarðr's city and took her to visit his mother in her garden for some fresh air that wasn't tied to their training. Then, the most recent addition to their daily activities was helping to teach her how to read the Æsir written word. For the most part, this included him reading lines from the recorded omens of the Norns that were already passed.
"Go long!" Hermione shouted, sending a ball of energy soaring through the air.
Loki effortlessly caught it and sent it back her way. "Better luck next time, Princess," he teased playfully.
Catching the orb, she cradled it closely and stared into the swirl of colours. Hermione bit her lip thoughtfully before looking up at Loki, who was watching her. It was clear that she was trying not to pout at his continuous nickname use. "You've had centuries to perfect your seiðr; it's hardly fair to tease me... and don't call me Princess; Fandral started calling me that, and it's..." she wrinkled her nose a bit, not sure what word she was searching for, though the action made evident her distaste at Fandral using the endearing nickname.
Loki tossed her words around a bit in his head; it was strange to hear her voice her dislike of the kenning. "If you dislike it, be unafraid to speak your mind, Hermione. Tell Fandral you wish for him to use your name." He watched her weave her seiðr through her fingers, pulling it and repeating the process of control and manipulation.
"If he doesn't listen?"
"Then I shall see to it that he does." Brushing aside a stray lock of hair, "And as for your commentary on perfecting your seiðr, it's not about perfecting it so much as it is about finesse and control. I'm sure I've said as much to you every day for the last five lessons we've had. You, my dear protégé, have much to learn in that regard." He turned and started back to where he was not moments ago.
While Loki's back was to her and he was busy being sassy, Hermione sent a bolt of her seiðr right at him. It didn't surprise her one bit when he was able to lean out of the way of its path. Not that it would have hurt him. She was not allowed to use seiðr with intent to harm...yet. Though, if she were being honest, she wasn't sure she wanted to. So her seiðr simply phased through the tree directly in front of him before he turned and gave her a cocky grin.
Loki tutted with a look of understanding. "It takes time, Hermione, with which you have plenty of. You'll get there."
Such tenderness was given freely to her, but Hermione wasn't stupid. She was anything but stupid. Her mother and father always said she was brilliant. So why would it be much of a surprise that she'd notice something like how Loki would close himself off when others were near enough to hear and see them? Whatever it was that had placed her in such a safe place with Loki, he didn't act this way with everyone. In fact, there were a select few that she knew of who were treated in such a way.
"We will stop here for today." Saying so as he looked back towards the palace. It would be time to eat soon, and Hermione wasn't looking too aghast at the thought of a few treacle treats. He kept the smile from slipping through at the thought, "I'll take you to your chambers to clean up, and then we can break for your second meal."
"Will we be training more later?" Her hand had already slipped into his as they started out of the forest
"I think we can spend the rest of today in the Halls of All-Knowing."
"Yes!" Her eyes nearly glittered at the mention of the library. Glancing up at Loki, she tried to do so in a way that wasn't noticeable. Though typically, he was quite keen on her actions. Noticed even the slightest fidget in her demeanour. If she appeared too obvious in her peering, he would certainly notice. Thus, she verily tilted her head, looking through her lashes up at the man who was her teacher.
Loki was such an enigma to Hermione; nevertheless, she relished their training sessions. Even though she was still new to the art of seiðr, anything past meditation was exciting new territory that she found captivating and stimulating, and Loki was a superb instructor. His wit and playful nature made their training sessions enjoyable, but his tenderness won her over. Most probably her parents, too. Despite his playful demeanour, Hermione noted that Loki tended to close himself off when others were around. But with Hermione, he was different. He was open and honest and freely gave her the affection and praise she craved.
Looking back along their frequently taken path, Hermione watched what passed as a squirrel on Ásgarðr. Watching it nibble on what she suspected was a nut of some kind. Almost as soon as she and Loki were in a near enough vicinity of the creature, it chased a shadow up the length of a tree and hid itself away from them.
She liked to think that she was intelligent among her fellow peers. In school, her teachers constantly praised her and, lately, pushed her to skip grades. Something she hadn't given much thought to at all. What she had been thinking about was how quickly she'd been picking things up. Even she was amazed at how fast she was progressing in her training. Every day, she felt more confident in her abilities. She knew that Loki was the reason for her progress. He was amazing.
As they left the forest, Hermione felt thrilled at the thought of spending the rest of the day in the Halls of All-Knowing. The library was her favourite place in Ásgarðr. She could spend hours engrossed in its endless stacks of books. Well, she would if she could understand them. Until she picked up the language, she had to settle... though it wasn't nearly as bad as one might think. She liked listening to Loki read.
Almost as soon as they entered the palace, Hermione could smell the treacle tarts! They weren't the healthiest option, but they were her favourite. As they strolled hand in hand towards her bed chambers, Hermione felt happy.
She was happy with Loki.
She was happy learning about seiðr.
She was happy with her extended visit to Ásgarðr.
She was really, really... happy!
Frigga took a deep breath of the fresh air in her garden, enjoying the quiet moment of solitude before her son Thor joined her. She smiled as he approached; his charm was always a welcome addition to her day. "Hello, my dear son," she greeted him warmly.
"I was out trying to find Loki," Thor began, aware of the jealousy that seeped out with his words. More than likely, he was unsuccessful in hiding it from his mother. "But he's not training today."
"He was earlier. Are you sure he didn't redirect your attention?"
"I am most certain, mother. I had no trouble finding their clearing; only they seemed to be missing from it."
"As you say. Then perhaps he's giving Hermione's seiðr a break," Frigga replied, her eyes scanning her garden. "She is young, after all. Rather, I'm glad Loki isn't pushing her like he did her first day. Her core would hardly be able to withstand such a training regimen."
Thor stood in his mother's garden, shoulders slumped and eyes downcast. He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of the flowers that grew there. As he exhaled, he spoke softly, almost to himself. "I suppose you're right. Mortals are so very fragile. Interestingly, Loki is giving this one so much of his time and attention."
Frigga, Thor's mother, looked at him with concern and curiosity. "Is that how you really think, Thor?"
Thor looked up at his mother, momentarily caught off guard. He had not expected her to question him so directly. He hesitated for a moment before responding. "How I-" he began, then stopped, unsure how to continue.
Frigga waited patiently, watching her son with a gentle expression.
Thor took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I just don't know how much time Loki will have with her. She's young now, but mortals age quickly. Their lives are but a flicker in comparison to a God's. It has taken my brother nearly a millennium to master such power."
Frigga nodded, her expression thoughtful. "It is true, the time required to learn seiðr to the extent that your brother has, it is not so easily attainable by mortals. That, however, does not mean that she should not seek to understand what lies within her."
Thor looked at his mother, his expression confused. "What do you mean?"
Frigga stepped forward, walking towards her rose bushes. As she passed by them, the gentle breeze caused the soft petals to shudder. "Were we so cruel as to deny her such knowledge— that my youngest would be so greedy to turn this star wanderer away? Oh, but by the Norns, he appears to be more than willing to teach to the knowledge of his skill."
Thor swallowed, feeling a pang of guilt. "Well, no. I didn't mean- I meant- I'm not sure what I meant. I apologize, mother. I don't seem to be quite myself today."
Frigga turned to face her son, her expression kind. "What is it that truly ails you, my son?"
Thor hesitated, unsure of how to put his feelings into words. "Truly?" he asked.
"Truly," Frigga confirmed.
Thor took a deep breath, his eyes closing briefly. When he opened them, he looked at his mother. "Loki has given all his attention and time to this mortal."
Frigga nodded, understanding dawning in her eyes. "You wish to have more time with Loki?"
Thor shook his head. "Uh, nay, no— well, yes. However, that is not where my mind turns poor. I find myself envious. It is hardly fair that Loki gets to be her only teacher. Would not I be able to teach Hermione the ways of a warrior?"
Frigga smiled gently. "Of course, my son. You are a skilled warrior and a kind teacher. I am sure that Hermione would benefit greatly from your tutelage."
It was subtle, though clear. Thor could hear the 'but' even where she spoke none. "I would hurt her."
"Not on purpose." She smiled. A mother's smile, he and Loki would call it. She moved in close to Thor and raised her hand to brush a tendril of his blonde locks away. "She is mortal; your lessons might kill her, Thor." Frigga chuckled softly, placing a hand on Thor's arm. "You are a great warrior. However, you are too undisciplined to teach a Miðgardian child anything remotely close to the ways of battle. Your brother has adapted to her, but even he occasionally errs and forgets her fragility. As I had to remind him on day one."
He recalled. Recognizing the truth in his mother's words, no matter how he may dislike it. Thor looked around the garden, taking in its beauty. The flowers were in full bloom, their vibrant colours a sight to behold. The trees provided shade, their leaves rustling in the gentle breeze. It was a peaceful oasis amid Ásgarðr's daily demands. "I find your garden is always so peaceful, Mother,"
Frigga smiled, pleased by her son's appreciation of her sacred domain. "Thank you, my dear. It's my sanctuary, a place to escape the demands of ruling Ásgarðr."
Thor nodded, understanding the importance of having a place to unwind. "I can see why. It's beautiful."
Frigga placed a gentle hand on her son Thor's shoulder, noticing the sullen expression on his face. She knew that he missed his brother Loki terribly, and she understood the pain that he was feeling. "My son, I can see the turmoil within you," she began softly. "But remember, sometimes we must put others' needs before our own. Hermione needs Loki's teachings and guidance right now. She is young and inexperienced, and your brother can offer her the guidance she needs to flourish." Frigga's voice carried a gentle strength as she spoke, "Jealousy is a weight that burdens the heart. Let it go, my son. Your love for your brother is true and admirable. Your loyalty is a gift to be cherished, not a burden to be carried."
Thor's eyes met hers, and he felt a sense of understanding wash over him. "I see that now, Mother. I have been overzealous in my desire to be included. I will wait for the journey to present itself and be content in my role as a supportive brother."
"Good, now sit with me. You so rarely spend time with your mother these days."
"Ask veit ek standa, heitir Yggdrasill, hár baðmr, ausinn hvíta auri; þaðan koma döggvar þærs í dala falla; stendr æ yfir grœnn Urðar brunni." Loki read aloud to Hermione, who followed along with the words as he pointed them out. "This translates to, an Ash I know, Yggdrasil its name, with water white, is the great tree wet; thence come the dews | that fall in the dales, green by Urth's well, does it ever grow. Can you try it yourself?"
"Say it again?" Hermione asked.
So Loki repeated the words of old, unaware of the eyes which watched over him from the throne room.
Tapping his finger on the armrest of the grandiose Hlidskjalf, Odin observed his youngest son with a sense of unease as he watched him teach Hermione about Æsir history, specifically the Völuspá. While he couldn't deny that Loki was doing a fine job of ascribing the intricate words in a way that made sense to the child, a mortal child at that, he could not help but worry about the long-term effects of this pastime. While his youngest hadn't been so needy in his attention as Thor was, he would make requests of him, and he could never quite bring himself to deny Loki. This, however, was different. Though Odin had not denied Loki his mortal pupil, he still worried. What if Loki grew too attached to Hermione and didn't want her to leave? That was probably the worst-case scenario, as they were Gods, and she would sooner or later die. Perhaps Loki would lose interest in her, and that would be that? No, she could dance across the stars as if the Bifrost were just a common suggestion. Besides, Loki was not so easily distracted from his interests. Odin had played with the idea of sending her back home, but after quiet council with his own thoughts, he finally recognized how his son was no longer chasing after his brother.
Speaking of. Odin turned his gaze to his eldest. Thor already seemed to feel neglected by both Loki and Hermione... Odin had spent the last so-and-so minutes watching Loki read and translate the words of the Völuspá to Hermione, and now it appeared Thor was talking to his mother about possibly taking another jaunt through one of the other realms.
Odin couldn't help but feel troubled. He knew that the girl's mortal life was finite and that sooner or later, she would have to return to her world for good, leaving behind the realm of the Æsir. Only truly worried about the fallout where his sons were concerned. Loki would hopefully move on quickly enough. He'd never been the type for sentimentality. Such was either beyond him or below him. As far as Thor went, Odin just wished he'd outgrow his juvenile conquests and expeditions. Despite these concerns, Odin considered himself a benevolent God and decent father, allowing Loki to continue his pastime with his "plaything". Odin knew that it was important for his sons to find meaning and purpose in their lives, and right now, this was where Loki's life had strayed.
Still, he couldn't shake the unease lingering in his heart.
Was this the right thing to do? The Norns only knew.
A pastime. A pet. A plaything. A mortal...above all else. A goat among Gods.
He would never say as much, though. His beloved would not hear of it, nor his sons. It wasn't as if he didn't like Hermione. She was a true gem among the mortals and lucky enough to be given time among other realms. Her world, however, was not among the Æsir. She would sooner or later need to return to her world. His son would need to gather himself after her departure, and there would be a departure. Would it be when her training was done? He couldn't be sure. Perhaps she would grow old and die as all mortals did. The life expectancy of a mortal, or a Miðgardian, was rarely longer than a century. All that mattered was that order would return to Ásgarðr in time.
While Loki was busy educating the child, Thor continued regaling Frigga with his plans of a hunt in Vanaheim and the tusks of a beast he'd bring back as his trophy. He expected more from his eldest child. He was four centuries older than Loki, and still, he wasted his days away conquering tribes and starting fights with beasts and fae-kind across the realms. Inclining back on his throne, he raised his eyes to Muninn and Huginn as they returned to him with visions from Miðgard. "Rest now,"
As Thor stood and stretched, ready to go back inside, Loki appeared from around the corner and looked to be searching for someone. "Brother, you appear lost."
Loki smiled and made his way over. "Thor, tomorrow we embark on a journey through the realms. You shall be mine and Hermione's escort. Be ready with your friends."
Thor was caught off guard by Loki's enthusiasm, but a smile quickly tugged into existence at the corner of his lips. He was to be their escort! Ha, the Norns were watching out for him after all! "As you say, Loki. I will seek out the Warriors Three and Lady Sif for the journey ahead." He watched Loki nod before leaving, most likely returning to where he'd left Hermione.
"Where are we going?" It was later than she was used to. After Frigga had said her piece days ago, Loki had been firm with her sleep schedule. Oh, her mother would at least be pleased. That being said, they were out way past that time. Not that you could tell in Ásgarðr. A divided sky made that pretty much impossible.
"This way, keep up."
Well, naturally, Hermione thought. Moving closer, she took hold of his hand and kept her eyes peeled as they made their way towards the farthest outskirts of the kingdom. "Do I need to meditate when I return to my room? I normally do that after dinner and bathing. Did you tell Fulla we would be out late? Are we almost to wherever we're going? Oh, I hear water!"
Loki chuckled, "Oh, Hermione, with growing curiosity, you will no doubt traverse confidently along the tangled threads of your life."
"Tangled threads? Do you think they'll be so bad?"
"All threads are a tangled mess, or so I've been told. Never have I met with the Norns to see otherwise."
"Hm," Hermione swung her hand to and fro in his, "you haven't answered any of my questions, Loki."
"No, I don't suppose I have." He glanced in her direction; a knowing smile hid the answers she sought. "I'll allude to the fact that Fulla knows you'll not be back for a few hours. I will also confirm that you need not worry about meditation upon returning to the palace. As for where we are going," he stopped, "here, should be fine, I think."
"You think?"
"Fine, I know."
"Of course." Because Loki seemed to know everything, or so, that's how it seemed to Hermione at times.
Loki extended his slender, pale hand to Hermione, who curiously reached out to clasp it. Letting him lead her with an unfallible faith. "You will be meditating here. In every realm, there are locations where seiðr is more concentrated. These locations are where the roots of Yggdrasil brush closest to the surface of the realm."
Meditating. Of course. Hermione felt as he led her to a particularly prickly spot, the edge of a precipice. Because why not?! "Did I upset you?"
"Upset me? Why do you ask?"
"You aren't going to push me over, are you? This is really high up, and-" she stopped, her words lost on the tip of her tongue as she peered over the edge and into the nothingness void of stars below. "Whoa,"
"Here, Yggdrasil's roots brush along the cosmic void and Ásgarðr's surface. It's a prime location for one such as you to Meditate."
Hermione's eyes sparkled with amazement. She gazed in wonder at the expanse of the cosmos, a boundless void filled with stars that shone like celestial diamonds. Taking in the radiant colours shimmering in dusted sparkles around what looked like roots that crawled up along the realm's edge. It was a sight beyond imagination, being among the constellations that told stories older than time itself.
"Can you see them?"
"Can I see them? Of course I can! My eyesight is 20/20," The silliness of the question elicited a smile across her face.
"That isn't what I meant, Princess. Only those with a strong enough seiðr can even make out the outlines of the roots. I am able to see them, but few else besides the elves are capable of looking upon them."
Hermione gracelessly reached out and ran her finger over the root, "I see it perfectly. Not just the outline, either."
He nodded, having prepared himself for as much. Hermione wasn't normal. By no criterion would he ever use the word normal to describe her. She was a ball of energy and a ball of untapped potential that grew stronger and faster than he could keep up with training her. There was a small voice in the back of his mind that stressed over the rate at which she learned and the rate at which her seiðr grew. It wasn't quite as balanced as he'd prefer it to be. Loki and Hermione found their spot at the edge of Ásgarðr. He carefully seated himself, his robes gracefully flowing around him, and Hermione settled beside him. Mimicking his posture, she crossed her legs and looked up at him, her eyes filled with trust. He was the God of Lies, and it was always unnerving to see just how far her faith in him went. He couldn't explain the complexity of his paradoxical thoughts. Unsettled by her trust, yet honoured and humbled by the precious reliance. He could do her no iniquity.
"Is it going to be like normal meditation?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.
Loki, with a rare sincerity in his emerald eyes, explained, "We're here to connect with the essence of Ásgarðr, its core, but also to properly introduce you to the source of our seiðr. This is Yggdrasil," he placed his hand atop the root gently, a feathered caress of familiarity. "During our trip, we will do this on each realm we visit. Yggdrasil's roots reach across the nine, and while her roots are directly sourcing seiðr to the cores of each realm, the cores are not Yggdrasil herself. They are two different sources of seiðr. I want you to identify them, but first, I thought I could introduce you to Yggdrasil. She is the great World Tree and is responsible for binding the Nine Realms together. We'll begin with a simple practice - meditation, as normal, and go from there." He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and Hermione followed his lead.
He joined her in meditation. The cosmic air brushed gently against their skin, carrying the essence of the cosmos. Only once Loki felt that Hermione was focused and entirely at ease with her surroundings did he finally speak. His voice was soft and reassuring as he continued to guide her. "Feel the energy of Yggdrasil beneath us. It's like a steady heartbeat, connecting all of existence. Reach out not with your mind but with your heart. Imagine roots extending from your heart, touching the roots of the World Tree." Even as he practised what he orated, his eyes stayed on Hermione, watching with admittedly more anticipation than he'd felt the first time he'd touched along the roots of Yggdrasil so long ago.
Hermione's expression showed her concentration, and she felt a gentle warmth blooming within her chest. Slowly, she began to sense the subtle, pulsating energy of Yggdrasil, a rhythmic hum that resonated in her own heart. It was familiar. "Loki, I know this feeling."
He tilted his head, "could you explain?"
"I've felt this before." She opened her eyes, "It's your seiðr."
"My seiðr is a gift from Yggdrasil, Hermione. There are vague differences, which we will be working to discern." He smiled, "Ready?"
She nodded. Closing her eyes, she returned her attention to the familiar seiðr that tickled her senses.
"Good," Loki proceeded, "Now, envision a delicate thread of light extending from your heart to the heart of Yggdrasil. It's a connection, a bond between you and the entire cosmos. It's fragile, like a blossom's petals, yet powerful, like a dwarven forged sword." As he slipped his hands in hers, untangling her fingers from her sleeves, he oversaw her as Yggdrasil's essence began to seep in along the glow of her seiðr.
As Hermione held Loki's hand and connected with the pulsing heart of Yggdrasil, her initial sense of wonder quickly gave way to an overwhelming fear. The power of Yggdrasil was unlike anything she had ever encountered. It pressed in on her, heavy and stifling, like a crushing weight on her chest. She knew what was happening. Sort of. Yggdrasil's cosmic energy enveloped her, making her feel small and insignificant in the vastness of the universe. Stars that had once seemed like beautiful lights now appeared as burning goliaths, casting eerie shadows that danced in the corners of her mind. The constellations, once enchanting stories, now resembled ominous symbols etched across an unseen sky. Her heart was racing, the rhythm out of sync with the pulsing of Yggdrasil. It was as if Yggdrasil was trying to consume her, overpowering her very essence. She felt lost in the essence, disconnected from her own identity. Panic had officially set in as she struggled to breathe. Her fingers clutched Loki's hand desperately, and her voice trembled as she pleaded, "Loki, it's too much. I can't breathe. It's too powerful, too... scary." It hurt, but she forced the words out despairingly.
Loki's eyes, filled with concern, met Hermione's frightened gaze as she opened her eyes. His grip on her hand remained firm and steady, grounding her with touch before letting his seiðr drift gently along her fingers. He spoke soothingly, reassuringly, "Hermione, I see your fear, and I understand. You're not alone. I'll be with you every step of the way. Yggdrasil's power can be overwhelming, but I'm here to guide and protect you. Breathe with me."
Still, the fear persisted. Her racing heart and shallow breaths made her feel as if she were on the brink of a cosmic breakdown. The oppressive force of Yggdrasil's energy weighed down on her like a cloak of darkness that threatened to smother her very existence.
"Hermione, come on. Princess, please, you need to breathe."
She forced a shudder and tried to draw it back in. It wasn't easy at first, but Loki kept pace with each strained breath she took.
Loki controlled the situation, choosing his words with precision. "Yggdrasil is much like a storm. It can be wild and fierce but also nurturing and transformative. Allow it to flow through you, but don't let it overwhelm you. You are in control."
"W-what happened to fragile- like flower petals?"
He gave a muted chuckle, watching as she finally came down from the hysteria provoked by Yggdrasil's essence. Hermione slowly regained control over her breath. She closed her eyes and focused on the rhythm of her inhales and exhales. As she held Loki's hand, the oppressive force began to transform. The overwhelming power of Yggdrasil, once a source of terror, began to ebb and flow like a calm tide under Loki's careful guidance. Bit by bit, her fear subsided, replaced by a growing sense of connection to the cosmic seiðr. Loki's presence, like a beacon in the vastness of the universe, balanced her out with care. The fear had been a formidable challenge, but it also marked the beginning of her journey into the heart of existence, guided by Loki's unwavering support.
It had certainly taken her a moment. Sitting there silently, she pulled on her seiðr and called it back to her. Hermione slowly regained her composure; the overwhelming experience left her feeling drained, as though her essence had been drawn upon by the immense intensity of Yggdrasil's seiðr.
Two things happened in that moment.
1. Loki moved quickly beside her, having never let his eyes leave her, and caught Hermione before she hit the ground.
2. Hermione passed out, leaning heavily on Loki as fatigue settled into her bones, her eyelids drooping with the weight of her newfound cosmic connection- which she'd had no time to explore.
Loki, perceptive and attuned to her needs, gently lifted Hermione into his arms, cradling her against his chest. She nestled in his embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart, a soothing counterpoint to the celestial symphony of seiðr she'd only just experienced. The walk would be no bother to him. More concerned with how Hermione would handle the new connection she'd scarcely formed with Yggdrasil.
Carrying Hermione, Loki returned, retracing their steps to the magnificent palace of Ásgarðr. "You truly did it," even as he said this, he knew she hadn't heard him. Loki marvelled at the courage and curiosity that had led Hermione to this transformative and glorious moment in her seiðr journey. Whether or not she realized it, her new bond with Yggdrasil would help her connect with the cores of the other realms in the coming days. Hopefully. She would need to recognize their differences if she genuinely wished to form bonds. Such had taken him several tries to get the hang of, but he had not had anyone to train him in such. Though a talented seiðr user, his mother had never traversed the realms with him and encouraged his bonding with the realms cores or Yggdrasil. Not to the point in which he had.
Loki hoped Hermione's journey into the heart of existence would be just as fulfilling as he had, if not easier to traverse with help and support. So many times, he'd thought it, and even still, her future held the promise of great discoveries and unparalleled wisdom. As he walked with her in his arms, Loki pondered the responsibility he bore as her mentor. He knew that the path she had chosen was filled with challenges, and he was determined to be her unwavering guide and protector...he just wondered where it would all lead. A Midgardian with seiðr as strong as hers, it was nothing he'd heard of before. Admittedly, the connection she'd forged with Yggdrasil would be both a blessing and a burden; as such, he understood the importance of nurturing Hermione's unique gifts.
Finally reaching the palace, Loki carried Hermione to her chambers, the grandeur of the Ásgarðrian abode contrasting with the quiet serenity that enveloped them. Gently laying her down on her bed, he tenderly tucked her in, ensuring her comfort. Leaning in, Loki pressed two fingers to her forehead, and a soft glow teased his fingertips. "Oh, Norns, watch over this child who has ventured into the heart of the cosmos. Protect her, guide her, and grant her peaceful dreams." His voice carried softly in the silence.
As he withdrew, he watched her for a moment, her youthful innocence now nestled into the plush feathered pillows. How she was meant to be protected and nurtured, he hoped desperately that he could do right by her. Considering he could only do his best, he felt he was doing pretty well so far. The complexity of her journey had only just begun, and tomorrow, he had plans to push her further than he had this day, which had been rather turbulent.
With a final lingering gaze, Loki whispered, "Pleasant dreams, young one," before turning and quietly leaving her room. The echoes of his boots followed him as he made his way to his own quarters within the grand palace of Ásgarðr. The night was still young for him, but there was much to be seen still, and he would need his rest to be ready for his pupil's coming trip. Slipping inside his room, he prepared for rest. Loki felt a sense of anticipation. He would be sharing these extraordinary experiences with Hermione in the coming days. Well, not just Hermione. He wasn't so foolish not to notice how his brother longed for time with Hermione. She was, of course, the metaphorical golden apple out of Thor's reach, but what was Loki, if not benevolent to his brother's misery? As such, he figured an adventure of sorts would both help Hermione's seiðr grow and, hopefully, Thor would get the attention he so vehemently expected. As such, come the morrow, Thor, the valiant Lady Sif, and, of course, the boisterous Idiots Three would be joining himself and Hermione on their journey.
The prospect of showing off the mysteries of the Nine Realms to Hermione with such a diverse and intriguing group filled him with a unique sense of excitement- if not thoughts of illusions and mindful trickery. Loki knew their journey would be fraught with challenges, but what was danger without a little bit of fun and laughter to balance out the struggles that were sure to ensue?
As he settled into his bed, Loki closed his eyes, his thoughts dancing with visions of the realms he planned to show Hermione. With a subtle smile gracing his lips, he drifted off to sleep. Unaware of the untangling threads that glowed in frail fingers in far-off realms.
Hermione was sure she was asleep. In this dream world, she found herself in a warm, familiar, sunlit garden.
She watched her dad wipe sweat from his forehead as he put away their lawnmower. Calling out to him, her voice came out echoing and distorted, strange and unlike any dream she'd ever had. Her father admired the lush green lawn that stretched out before him. Her mom was busy on her knees, digging holes for the blossoms that would soon add a pop of colour to their landscape.
Unlike in Ásgarðr, where most were asleep at the moment, the sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the Granger household. Very clearly, it was mid-day. Suddenly, a voice interrupted their gardening.
"Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Granger?"
Hermione and her father turned to see an older gentleman approaching them. He appeared to be in his sixties, though it was difficult to pinpoint his exact age. He did look to be around her grandfather's age, so she figured she must be close. Though Odin was well into his five thousandth year, ...and Thor and Loki were over a thousand, and they looked younger than her mother and father. She wouldn't dare question Frigga's age; no, her mother had taught her better than that. Given her sons' age, she could at least assume she was over two thousand. So what was one's appearance, if not misleading?
John stepped forward, wiping his hands on a nearby towel before extending his hand. "Yes, sir. I recognize you. You're... Howard Stark."
"That I am." The man said with a charismatic smile, extending his hand to Hermione's father, returning the firm grip.
"John, and this is my wife, Helen. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stark. At the risk of sounding rude, what brings you to our humble home? We don't exactly travel in the same circle?"
"I came here on business; I hope you don't mind the sudden visit." The atmosphere took a subtle shift as Howard took a careful step back, his expression growing more serious. "Could we continue this conversation inside?" he suggested gently.
Helen stood up, brushing the dirt off of her jeans. "Is there a problem?" she asked, eyeing the suitcase at his side.
"Mm, concerning your daughter, Hermione?" Howard lifted his hand, gesturing towards the Granger home. "Shall we?"
The dream switched abruptly.
Now, standing before a void of darkness. Unlike earlier, when she thought the shadows and seiðr might gobble her up, she wasn't afraid. It was different now. Below her, there was nothing, just an endless abyss, yet she stood there as if an invisible floor kept her from falling, sinking into perpetual nothingness. But above her, thick, enormous roots dangled, giving off a faint, humming glow. They seemed to reach out to her as if beckoning her to touch them.
Curious and fearless, Hermione extended her small hand to grasp one of the roots. As her fingertips brushed the surface, a cool chill shot up her arm, and she quickly retracted her hand, bewildered by the strange sensation. Her eyes took in each pulsating root, emitting a soft, mesmerizing glow. Despite how she'd pulled away, the roots stretched out to her, humming a soothing lullaby in the eerie silence of the void.
Hermione, perhaps, should have hesitated or, at the very least, proceeded with caution. However, she was undeterred by the unknown and extended her small hand once more, reaching for another luminous root. Another palpable shiver rushed up her arm. It was a sensation both strange and captivating. With a determined resolve, she tightened her hand into a firmer grip. The root responded to her touch, vibrating gently as if acknowledging her presence. Or maybe her company? A faint, distant whisper echoed in her mind; she wasn't sure what she heard, but it felt safe and encouraging, as if it were urging her forward. The void around her seemed to shift and sway as if it were subsisting, breathing in harmony with her own curiosity. Hermione's young heart fluttered with a sudden bout of trepidation, unsure of the significance of this surreal encounter.
As she continued to explore the enigmatic roots, she became aware of a subtle nudging. Immediately recognizing it as the bond she'd formed earlier with Loki's help. Certain now, there was no doubt that this entity was Yggdrasil herself. She could feel the gentle prodding at the cusp of her mind. It was there, and then it was gone. Just as uncertain, just as curious as she was. Yet it was so much more than she. Hermione felt it. She could feel how much more there was to Yggdrasil but couldn't put a figure to her expanse of existence and knowing.
She couldn't grasp its full intent or why it demanded her attention. With each passing moment in the dream, she delved deeper into the unknown, driven by an insatiable thirst for knowledge and a sense that the roots above her held the key to a greater understanding of her own... existence. Because there was always more to learn, and one reason was never the only reason for something, it made sense that she would want to know all the reasons she... was.
Invitingly, playfully, and almost as if amused by her curiosities playing out in her mind, the roots closest to her gently reached out and plucked her up.
It was a surprise, but Hermione quickly embraced this surreal moment with an eager heart. Like sentient beings, the roots swayed gracefully, guiding her ascent through the void, up, up, and up higher, where it became more radiant and—and more. So... much... more.
There was that familiarity she'd felt while Loki was guiding her to bond with Yggdrasil. The almost mischievous energy encouraged her to explore the mysteries beyond the darkness. She knew she'd recognized it. It was just like Loki's! Or, Loki's was just like Yggdrasil's. This, too, made sense to her. He was bonded with Yggdrasil, and her seiðr had run plentiful through his veins, right? So naturally, it should feel familiar. Though, unlike Loki's, it didn't feel quite so cold and brilliantly red. It felt luminous and golden!
With each step, or rather, with each pull of the roots, Hermione felt a growing sense of camaraderie. No fear was left hidden in her mind's crevices; she took each step carefully as the roots pulled her along. Playfully guiding her. Giggles escaped Hermione's lips as she allowed herself to be drawn about by the sentient roots. Another game. This time, follow the leader. Not considering the fact that her companions could not speak, Hermione voiced a thought into the void around her, "Where are we going?" With all the curiosity of a six-year-old, Hermione continued climbing despite receiving no reply.
Stumbling only slightly, the roots moved to catch her, taking on a more maternal quality, as though they were protective arms extending from a cosmic mother. Oh, but that was what she was. Yggdrasil, the mother of the nine, was her companion; she was safe, and Yggdrasil, too, was her mentor.
Fixing her footing, Hermione reached out to take another extended root, and it responded nurturingly. There was a gentle and motherly presence now. The root extended itself further, cradling her tiny hand in its embrace as if it were guiding her like a loving parent. It felt like the root was whispering, "Come, dear child, let me show you the way."
The void seemed to respond to their bond, shifting and shimmering with radiant energy, like the soothing lullaby of a mother's voice. Hermione's fear and uncertainty had long since been replaced by pure, wide-eyed wonder and the comfort of knowing she was in the safe presence of the mother, Yggdrasil.
[On Midgard]
Placing the tea aside, John waited for Howard Stark to continue speaking.
Howard cleared his throat before he responded clearly; his voice carried a sense of gravitas when he spoke, "I wish I could provide you with all the answers right now. But I can tell you that your daughter, Hermione, possesses something extraordinary and has drawn the attention of a powerful and discreet organization. These people, at the moment, are only watching your daughter, but I imagine that can be just as much a threat to her if they were knocking at your door right now."
"Aren't they?"
Howard turned to Helen, "It's... complicated."
The room seemed to close in on them as Howard's words hung in the air. John exchanged a knowing look with his wife, and they both understood the gravity of the situation. Their daughter was no ordinary child, and her unique abilities had been brought to the attention of shadows. Helen's teacup remained untouched as she listened intently, her thoughts racing. She glanced at John, silently acknowledging their shared concern for their daughter's safety and well-being.
Howard continued, his tone earnest and careful, "Listen, I have made some questionable choices in my life, but I am a father. I know what it means to worry over everything your kid is up to and everything they have yet to do. I don't have all the answers yet, but I promise you this—whatever challenges lie ahead, I will do everything I can to help you protect Hermione." He shook his head, "I've seen their file on her." Opening his suitcase, he pulled out a file and held it out to John. "She's a remarkable young girl, and her potential is limitless. You know the age-old saying. The possession of great power necessarily implies great responsibility."
"You needn't worry about Hermione. She's as responsible as they get."
Howard smiled at that. "Maybe it's just my kid, then. He's always getting into trouble. Loves to be in the spotlight. It's detrimental to my health." Even in light of his joke, the room was still rigid.
John Granger regarded Howard Stark with a mixture of curiosity and concern. He leaned forward, his brows furrowing as he posed a question that had been gestating at the corner of his mind, "I'm curious, Mr. Stark, but how are you involved with this 'discreet organization,' or are you here as a concerned citizen?"
Howard Stark met John's gaze with a sombre expression, choosing his words carefully. "I have connections, John," he admitted, his tone tinged with a sense of responsibility. "Connections that have brought this matter to my attention. My involvement is driven by the belief that Hermione's safety and protecting her unique abilities are paramount."
Helen closed her eyes as she let her face fall into her palms. A warm hand settled on her back; soothing circles were tenderly rubbed in repetitive motions as she took in what Howard Stark had just told them. The silence weighed down on her in an unbearable way she could not dismiss. Taking a careful breath, she looked back up, her eyes meeting Howard's before turning to John. Her husband sat across from Howard in the quiet living room of their cosy home in the suburbs. The atmosphere was solemn and uncertain, and an awkward silence hung in the air. That silence. That unkind silence that held her daughter's secrets hostage in the heavy ambience that now kept them company.
Trying to think what to say, Helen schooled her expression into something more contemplative. Her fingers ran tenderly over the lip of her dogwood teacup. Her eyes, usually warm and welcoming, held a hint of concern as she processed the weight of what Howard had just revealed to them. Finally, she cleared her throat, breaking the silence that seemed to stretch endlessly. "Mr. Stark," she began, choosing her words carefully, "We appreciate your concern, but we also need to understand the nature of this organization and why she's being monitored so closely."
"I understand, and I'll do my best to provide you with information as it becomes available. For now, all I can ask is that you trust me. Hermione's safety is my utmost priority."
"Why?"
Howard brought both hands together in his lap, a faraway look in his eyes, "Would you believe me if I told you that reading her file made me think of an old friend? Specifically, what would he say if he knew of this organization's interest in her?"
"A friend?"
"You ever hear of a Soldier that went by the name Captain America?"
John's eyes lit up, "did I? I was a kid reading his comics. You knew him?"
"Yeah, I did. Spent the latter half of my life looking for the wreckage of his aircraft." Shaking his head, Howard exhaled slowly.
Standing up, Helen put some distance between herself and the two men, walking towards her fireplace where photos lined the stone. One of which, a single photo of her daughter being held by her husband with herself beside them, stood out among the lot. Her thoughts were weighed down by concern, but she finally spoke up, "What do we do now?"
During their conversation, Howard Stark had proven to be a confident gentleman. This was the first time she and her husband had witnessed him hesitate before answering. "First and foremost, we need to ensure Hermione's safety," he said, his tone resolute. "Given the level of surveillance she's under, I'd recommend we relocate to a more secure location. One that's... less vulnerable to prying eyes."
"You sound as if you have a location in mind,"
Helen nodded. Her husband was right. It did sound like that.
"There is a place I have in mind."
The idea of moving to a more secure place resonated with Helen, who was determined to protect her daughter at all costs. However, she wondered if Howard could be so easily trusted. Perhaps she'd seek assistance from their new friend in high places to see if he's lying or telling the truth. Certainly, Loki would be interested in this since it concerned Hermione.
"That might be a good start," John admitted, running a hand through his hair as he considered the logistics. "But what else can we do to ensure her safety, Mr. Stark? Will moving be enough to stop them?"
Howard leaned forward, his mind racing with possibilities. "We should consider reaching out to individuals who can help us understand the extent of Hermione's abilities and the threats she may face."
Howard Stark's suggestion to reach out to experienced individuals hung in the air, but after a moment of contemplation, John shook his head gently. He met Howard's gaze with determination as he responded, "No, that's unnecessary. The person currently teaching her is a trusted mentor who can protect her from anyone."
Helen nodded in agreement, her support evident in her expression. "We trust Hermione's mentor," she added, her voice steady. "They've been guiding her, helping her understand and control her unique gifts. We believe in their expertise."
That seemed to have taken Howard by surprise, but he didn't ask anything else regarding Hermione's mentor. "I see. Well, I'll still need to tread carefully and gather information discreetly. It would also benefit Hermione t-" The conversation drifted toward potential allies, safe havens, and avenues for gathering information. Yet, no matter how many ideas were discussed, they kept circling back to the same issue—they were too open to surveillance, and their every move was being watched.
Helen sighed, her worry etched in her features. "It feels like we're caught in a web, Mr. Stark. I don't like it."
"Yes, it's a difficult situation. But I do not doubt that we can find a way to protect your daughter. We just need to be patient and methodical in our approach." Howard took another moment before adding, "I do have a place, off the grid, heavily secured. It might be the safest option for all of you."
John Granger was still wary, but when he felt the reassuring grip of Helen's hand on his shoulders, he knew that they needed to take every measure to protect their daughter. With a hesitant nod, he said, "Alright, Mr. Stark. We'll trust you. I hope I don't come to regret my choice, though."
"Trust me, John, you won't regret this."
Helen's eyes held a mix of relief and determination as she added, "Thank you, Mr. Stark."
With their decision made, they delved into discussing Hermione's schooling and well-being. They explored the idea of private tutors and extracurricular activities that could be conducted within the confines of this secured location. Their soon-to-be new home. They also considered the presence of a bodyguard to ensure Hermione's safety as she continued her education and development. This was all fine and dandy. The progression of their move to keep their daughter safe and out of the hands of the government was something that had completely taken over Helen and John's mind once it had been brought up. It had only briefly crossed their minds that this might, in fact, be a trap or deception—some kind of manipulation.
No, as quickly as the thought had surfaced, it faded into oblivion. Howard had appeared truly worried, though Helen couldn't fathom exactly what set this man on his righteous path; she would be eternally thankful if it meant her daughter was safe. Files were put away in the suitcase, and the three adults continued to converse for a few hours longer. Howard promised to return in a week to see to their safe travel as they packed up and relocated. It was all happening so fast, and somehow, Helen needed to get this information to Loki so that he knew where they would be.
"Love, we will need to wait until after the move. Once there, we can call out to Heimdall. He'll see us and hear us. He will be able to notify Loki."
Helen rested her head on her husband's shoulder as she watched Howard pull out of their neighbourhood. It was such a lovely neighbourhood.
End Part 3/6
