The sunlight crept between the curtains, dancing with them as the light breeze from the balcony made the thin fabric flow into the room. The cool air made Anja pull the green cloak draped over her body closer to her. It didn't make a difference; the cold air was nothing compared to the empty space in the bed beside her.
Last night, after returning to New Asgard and seeing the damage Thanos' snap had caused there- Heimdall and countless others vanished just like Loki, Layla, and everyone else- and after Anja had been briefly checked over by whatever medics remained, she had returned to her and Loki's room. She hadn't left the room since, bedridden except for when she had to use the bathroom- either for its usual business or to throw up. She hadn't slept at all. She had been crying nonstop, her stomach churning from the greatest loss she had experienced since losing her mother and foster parents. Losing Loki and Layla- hell, maybe Spencer and Tony too- in one fell swoop was too much to bear. She hadn't slept, hadn't eaten... continuing life as normal after their lives had all been taken so suddenly just wasn't going to be possible. How could she go on as if nothing had happened?
She had been so young when she had last lost someone she loved that she didn't properly understand death, let alone what it meant to properly grieve. Even though she was a teenager when her foster parents passed she still didn't have a good grasp on the process. It had been years, and while those deaths were still painful, she was able to move on from them and live a somewhat normal life- as normal as a life could be as an Avenger, anyway. But now she was supposed to mourn at least two people she loved above all else without somehow losing her sanity in the process. It didn't seem possible. It wasn't possible.
Anja opened her eyes as best she could. They were puffy and red from the never-ending tears, and opening them took more effort than it should've. Her eyes were met with the dirtied gold of Loki's helmet sitting just a few inches from her face. She had picked it up off the ground in Wakanda, unable to leave it behind. It had been by her side all night, never more than an arm's reach away. She thought it would help having a piece of Loki nearby, but she wasn't sure that it made a difference. It just served as a grim reminder that she had just 'survived' her first night without him since their fateful meeting in December, the first of the many nights that remained in her lifetime.
Her thoughts were interrupted when there was a knock at the door. She slowly sat up in bed, holding the cloak tightly around her shoulders. "Come in," Anja said weakly. She wasn't sure if whoever was knocking even heard her.
That question was answered a few moments later when Brunnhilde walked into the room, a troubled look on her face. "You don't look good," she greeted, unable to hide the concern in her voice.
Anja sniffled. "You don't say." There was a couple seconds of silence before she spoke again, offering a little more insight on her disheveled state. "I haven't slept since before going to Wakanda. I tried to sleep but I... I can't."
Brunnhilde frowned. "I'd imagine not," she replied. "You've been through a lot the last 24 hours."
"Did you need something?" Anja asked, cutting the small talk. On one hand she wanted to talk more about Loki and Layla and everything, but on the other, she also just wanted to be left alone to mourn in her own ways uninterrupted. Sure, Brunnhilde was her friend, but she wasn't someone Anja necessarily felt super comfortable dumping all of her emotions and problems onto. They weren't that close. All the people she was that close with were gone.
"Thor wanted me to get you so the two of you could address what remains of our citizens together," Brunnhilde responded. "He said it should be a joint effort."
"Why?" Anja asked, confused. "He is the only one remaining with an official title. He's king; I am... was... merely a consort. I'm not queen, nor will I ever be."
Brunnhilde shrugged. "You take that up with him. I was just told to let you know," she answered. "Start freshening up, and I'll make sure you have breakfast sent up to you."
"I'm not hungry," Anja protested weakly.
"You haven't eaten since breakfast yesterday," Brunnhilde countered. "You need to eat something. Even if it's just something small."
As much as Anja didn't want to admit it, she was right. Not eating wasn't going to solve any of her problems; if anything it was just going to make them worse. Her stomach had been churning for days now as it was and all the grief wasn't making it feel any better. At some point, she'd have to bring it up to a nurse or something, but for now she was more than content with blaming it on the great stress from the last week.
"Just make sure it's something light," Anja replied nonchalantly. "Crackers or something."
Brunnhilde raised an eyebrow. "Your stomach is still acting up?"
Anja shrugged. "Stress," she offered.
Brunnhilde snorted. "I think it's something more than that at this point. You should probably see someone about that. Make sure it's not an illness or something."
"It's on my to-do list," Anja said sheepishly.
"Uh huh," Brunnhilde retorted. "Go take a bath and I'll see you in a bit."
Before Anja could protest, Brunnhilde turned and left her room, shutting the door behind her. She was alone once again, and that fact alone made her sigh. She supposed she needed to get up and wash up, preparing herself to face the Asgardian public. With a huff, she got out of bed, letting the cloak fall off her shoulders and pool near the bed's edge. She shuffled slowly to the bathroom, her joints and muscles still aching from all the exertion from the battle.
She turned on the tub's faucet, making the water as hot as she could stand it. While the water filled the tub, she undressed, her nightgown pooling onto the floor a few feet away from the tub. Once the tub had finished filling several minutes later, she turned off the faucet. Anja stepped in, sinking slowly into the water, letting the warmth engulf her. She wasn't used to a tub this deep; back home her tub was just a standard one, certainly not deep enough to properly soak her entire body. She tried her best to relax, resting her head against the edge of the tub. Even if she didn't want to admit it, the heat from the water did feel nice and even the sorest parts of her body were already starting to feel better. It wasn't going to cure her sadness, but it would at least make her physically hurt less.
Anja closed her eyes, feeling her eyes swell with tears once again. She wasn't sure how she had tears left to cry at this point. Her cheeks were tight from the dried tears on her face, and her head pounded from the constant sobbing and lack of sleep- let alone whatever blows she had taken to the head yesterday. Somehow she was going to have to push all that aside to help Thor address the remaining Asgardians. That in itself was still a mystery to her. Surely Brunnhilde would've been a better candidate to assist him with that, since she was a Valkyrie afterall. Anja had no official titles, and she didn't think she had anything to say that could help the Asgardians in this time of great crisis.
After all, she couldn't even help herself.
She sighed, sinking lower in the tub, getting her hair wet. She probably didn't need to wash it again, since the nurses had helped clean her up last night, but perhaps freshening up would help her feel more like herself again. In all honesty, she was skeptical, but at this point she didn't know what else to do. Once her hair was sufficiently wet, she sat up and reached for the shampoo, pouring a small amount into her palm before working into a thick lather throughout her hair. The nurses had carefully removed all the braids Loki had put in her hair a few nights ago, so most of her hair was down once more- the exception being a single braid they had put in for her near the front of her head. She avoided this braid, afraid if she washed it now it would come undone, and that was the last thing she wanted.
Anja rinsed her hands off before she carefully touched the braid, admiring it quietly. Her brown hair wove perfectly around a black strand- a strand that had once belonged to Loki. One nurse- an auburn-haired woman by the name of Eira- explained the braid as an Asgardian tradition to honor a loved one who had passed on. Anja thought it was cute, although she hated that Loki had the forethought to cut off a strand of his own hair just in case something happened to him. She'd always have a piece of him with her.
She closed her eyes again, fighting back tears once more before she sunk back into the water to rinse her hair out quickly. Once all the suds were out, she quickly washed up the rest of the way, deciding to speed up the process since she didn't know when breakfast was coming up. The last thing she wanted was for some stranger to see her indecent. Enough nurses had recently to last her a lifetime.
She quickly dried off, and dressed in a simple floor-length gown in Loki's favored shade of green. Anja applied a very minimal version of her usual makeup- sure that it was likely going to come off with her tears at some point anyway- before she started brushing her hair out. She had been favoring adding some curls to her hair lately, but she was too drained to do anything of the sort today. Instead she opted for a simple up-do with her tiara, making sure the braid was visible.
By the time breakfast was brought up to her, she was nearly finished tucking the last strands of hair up. On the platter was some sort of toasted bread, a bowl of assorted cut fruit, and a cup of hot tea. She wasn't sure how much of this she would be able to eat, given everything, but she knew she needed to eat something, no matter how small. Ultimately, Anja surprised herself and was able to finish all of her meal. She stacked her dishes neatly back on the tray before setting it on the small table near the doorway, hoping for an easy cleanup for whatever maiden came to retrieve her dishes. After one last glance in the mirror, she took a deep breath and made her way down to the throne room where she hoped she could find Thor.
Anja walked the hallways slowly, trying to keep her head held high. Heavy was the crown on her head, but it paled in comparison to the grief weighing her down. She hadn't seen Thor since arriving back in New Asgard, and she was uncertain what mental state he would be in. Was he just as devastated as she was? Or was he unaffected? She couldn't fathom him being completely unbothered by all the death- especially since it was his attack that technically failed in stopping Thanos once and for all. She supposed she would see soon enough.
Upon entering the throne room, she saw Thor sitting silently on the same throne he sat in only a few days before when they addressed the rest of the Avengers, staring pensively at the floor. The hall was empty- at least for now- and Anja could hear the gentle yet authoritative clicks of her heels as she slowly approached him. He glanced up at her after a few paces, likely checking to see who it was.
"Ah, it's just you, Anja," he mumbled.
"Just me," she echoed quietly. "I was told you wanted to see me?"
Thor nodded. "I'd like you to help me address Asgard," he stated. "Or what's left of it, anyway."
Anja couldn't stop herself from frowning. "Are you sure I am the right person for this? I mean, I'm just a Midgardian. I have no official titles or ties to Asgard. I'm not a queen, and I was barely a consort," she asked. "Surely Brunnhilde would be better-"
"-No," Thor cut her off. "I want you to help me with this task. It is something I would normally request of Loki as King. But given the circumstances, I think you are the best choice. It's what he and Layla would both want- us working together."
Anja nodded knowingly. "It is."
"So please, sister, help me," Thor continued.
Sister. The word danced around her subconscious, and hearing it stung more than she cared to admit. Once upon a time, perhaps she would've been officially his sister. Maybe there would've been a happy ending. Maybe she would've walked down the aisle, Loki awaiting her at the end of it. Maybe they could've had a family. But that's all it was going to be now; a fairytale with a tragic ending. Anja didn't get what she wanted- not now, not ever. It was a cycle that she was doomed to repeat over and over again.
But even then, she didn't dare tell Thor no.
"Alright. I'll help," she answered.
A weight seemed to lift from Thor's shoulders, but only slightly. "Thank you, Anja. I appreciate it." He gestured at the empty throne beside her. "Please, have a seat."
Anja took a deep breath as she climbed the steps to the golden throne. By the time she had sat down, the remaining Asgardians had begun filing into the hall. She knew there weren't a whole lot of them left, even before Thanos' snap, but it was a very stark difference in population from the coronation the other night. All of them had the same somber expressions that she and Thor had; surely all of them had lost at least one person close to them in this. They were all in the same boat, and it sucked. She wasn't sure how she was going to help lead them out of this crisis when she was still a wreck herself, but she was going to do her best.
For Asgard.
For Thor.
For Layla.
For Loki.
*****
Spencer was not surprised with how quickly Tony hatched a plan. Within a few hours of the disappearances of the rest of their teammates, he was already working on getting a ship working once more to get them back to Earth. Spencer sat on a rock, finally out of her nano-suit, and watched on while Tony and the blue woman- who she had since learned was named Nebula and an adoptive daughter of Thanos- toiled away with fixing various parts on a nearby ship. She wanted to do more to help, but she really didn't have the technology background to be of much use. Her degree was in Brain and Cognitive Sciences; there was no way that was going to be useful in rebuilding a ship. She was going to be the moral support; she was good at that!
Or at least most of the time she was.
Right now, Spencer would be lying if she said she was fine. Her mind was racing, working overtime to block out the thoughts of Tony and Nebula both as she dealt with her own emotions. Sure, she wasn't close to the Guardians by any means, so their untimely demise didn't mean a whole lot to her. But watching Peter Parker cling to Tony as he turned to dust was traumatizing, to say the least. Peter didn't deserve that. But she supposed if this was Thanos' work, and indeed half the universe's population was now gone, fairness certainly was not a factor in it. Why would it be? Everyone's chance was the same. Fifty/fifty chance of just disintegrating. She was just one of the "lucky" ones.
Her mind wandered to the rest of her friends. What happened back on Earth? Which of her friends- if any- were still alive? What happened there that caused Thanos to win? She had so many questions, and she didn't know if she would ever have answers to them. They were stranded on this planet, and she didn't know if they were ever going to get back home. At the moment, it certainly seemed unlikely.
Spencer didn't know what was worse- knowing what happened, or never knowing.
"Hey!" Tony's voice shook her from her thoughts. She barely heard it over the sound of a nearby engine firing up.
Spencer looked up, seeing him standing halfway out the doorway to the ship. He had taken his jacket off, and was in a heavily stained tank top. Tony was already covered in dirt and blood prior to working on the spacecraft, but now he was coated in oil too. Even though his tank top was black, the various stains were more than obvious, even at a distance. Spencer had seen his shirts dirty from working on machinery before, but it didn't suit Tony.
"Hm?" she responded.
"Get your ass up here. We're getting out of here," he called out to her.
Spencer stood, blinking a few times in confusion. "Already? I thought it was going to need more work."
"Not as much as we thought," Tony barely elaborated. "So c'mon. Let's get going."
Spencer made her way to the ship, stepping inside. From her limited knowledge, it looked like the thing still needed a lot of work, but perhaps it was all cosmetic. Or at least she assumed so since the engines were running. She didn't know about Nebula, but she assumed Tony wouldn't have purposely put them in danger, or at least not any more than he had before. She supposed she had no choice but to trust the two of them to get them back to Earth.
The man stepped in behind her, shutting the door tightly. "Buckle up. We're going home."
Spencer searched for a seat, quickly finding one and strapping herself in. Tony did the same, but in a seat closer to the front of the ship with Nebula. She was a little skeptical about this flight home, but at this point she knew it was their only choice if they ever wanted to see Earth and their friends again. She silently hoped it would be a quick trip as they took off, leaving Titan behind. They were finally on their way back, and Spencer had never been more conflicted. While she was more than happy to get back, she wondered what they would arrive home to. Who would be there to greet them? Would anyone even be alive? Her friends? Her family? Bucky? She supposed it was only a matter of time before she had the answers to those questions- even if it killed her.
She was once again shaken from her thoughts as Tony unbuckled himself. Spencer took that as a sign she could do the same. She glanced out the nearby window, watching Titan grow further and further away. It didn't take them long to get to Titan, so she was hoping that their trip home was just as quick.
"How long should it take us to get home?" she asked no one in particular.
"Not sure," was Tony's simple reply. "But we're on our way."
Spencer nodded. She supposed for now that was good enough. Eventually she'd see her friends again- or at least if any of them had survived Thanos. She was mentally preparing herself for at least one of them to be gone. She didn't want to imagine which of them didn't make it, but her gut told her after what happened to the Guardians and Peter there was no way all of them made it out unscathed.
"If it's alright, can I get some sleep?" Spencer wondered.
This time it was Nebula who spoke up from the pilot's seat. "Get some rest."
"We'll wake you up if anything happens," Tony added.
Spencer leaned back in the chair, shifting herself around until she was somewhat comfortable. Her various injuries stung and pained her, but she was honestly just glad she was alive. The nano-suit took most of the damage, and she was entirely grateful for that. She closed her eyes, exhaustion finally catching up to her now that the adrenaline was wearing off. It took longer than she would've liked to get her mind to settle down, but eventually it quieted and Spencer was able to drift off to sleep, with hopes that this trip back home would pass quickly.
*****
Hello everyone. This chapter took me way longer than I anticipated. These last three-ish months have been... something.
As I stated in my last update, I am navigating this pregnancy to the best of my abilities. This time around has been so much more challenging. Between migraines, pelvic dysfunction, failing the first glucose test, and some sort of perinatal mood disorders, I have just been perpetually exhausted. I have just around 8 weeks left now, and we are trying to get the house prepped for our son's arrival in a few short weeks. My days are filled with appointments now between multiple doctors for various different things, and I often find when I do have time to write that I can only manage a few paragraphs at a time.
My goal is to still get as much done in here as I can before I go into labor, so I hope to have at least one more chapter up by then. Ideally, more, but knowing how everything has been, I wouldn't be surprised if I can only squeeze one more out by then.
As always, thank you so much for your patience while I deal with my real life on top of this. The last few months have been an ordeal and it has been harder on my than I care to admit a lot of the time.
I hope all of you are doing well, and I hope to have another chapter up soon.
~arty_writes