Author's Note: My people! I bear good news. Well sort of, other than that I am slowly losing my mind being on winter break. It is never ending. BUT! The other night I had major late night revelations about this chapter and the overall plot. Well, you will see! So much is to come! It's strange because this feels like so much further along than chapter eight, but I suppose that is what happens when you don't have thirty chapters of Loki/Val sexual tension. Oh my, oh my, so many things to come! I do apologize in advance for this chapter...you will understand soon enough. Also, this chapter is somehow miraculously presented with no time lapses. I just noticed that...UNINTERRUPTED CHAOS.
Reminder about the Watty Awards! Please make sure to vote for Recompense between now and January 31st! Fingers crossed!
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Chapter Eight - Óendanlegt, or Infinite
I find myself standing, covered in blood. I stand in the hall looking about myself, but there is no one to be found. My heart is pounding erratically. I look down and there is an obliterated Dark Elf on the floor. I sink to my knees beside it, placing my hands upon its chest. I drop my head back, sighing towards the ceiling, eyes filling with tears.
What have I done?
Suddenly Odin rounds the corner and I stumble to my feet, averting my gaze. "Odin, I see you have awoken. How...how are you feeling?"
He says nothing at first and I lift my gaze to see him staring at me in disbelief. "You are not even armed...how did you...?"
"I don't know."
"Much has transpired during my Odinsleep, I suspect. It is fortunate I was not asleep longer, my child," he says calmly. He looks down at the dead elf and grimaces slightly. "Go to Frigga and get yourself cleaned up. I will take care of...this."
I hesitate, looking down at my own hands in fear. Odin looks up at me. "Go," he commands. I nod quickly and dash off toward Frigga's chambers, my feet carrying me swiftly across the corridors, my clothes stiff with blood and stuck to my skin.
Frigga opens the door before I can even raise a tremulous arm to knock and see looks me over and doesn't even hesitate to wrap her arms around me, cradling my head into her shoulder as I begin to sob. She coos sweet words at me as she brings me inside and closes the door behind me. Over her shoulder I see my own mother rise from her seat at the sight of me. I let out an inhuman sob and release Frigga and run to my mother who sinks to the ground with me. She cradles me to her bosom as she gently strokes my hair.
"My dear," she coos into my forehead, her lips kissing me over and over. "What have you done?"
I can't stop my sobbing long enough to begin to explain all that has transpired. I can't bring myself to say that I think I am losing my mind. She seems to understand oddly enough and she gets me to my feet slowly.
“Come along, we shall get you cleaned up,” she says. She supports my weight generously as she half-drags me towards Frigga’s bathroom. She places me gently on the floor as Frigga enters and helps to get me undressed. My mother draws the bath and then sets to unlacing my boots. I can’t seem to do anything. I cannot function. My mind has betrayed me.
Frigga and my mother lift me to me feet again and help me into the bathtub. The moment I am submerged in water it is like my whole body has jumped to life again, shock coursing through me instantly. I flail uselessly, letting out an inhuman sound and my mother simply calms me, rocking my head in her arms carefully.
I manage to croak, “I’m sorry” before dissolving into hot tears. Eventually I persuade them to leave me be in the bathtub while they return to Frigga’s room. I sink down in the water, having regained some form of control over myself. I sit there for far too long, the water growing colder, my jaw trembling. I mutter nothingness to myself as I rub some life into my arms. I’m trying to get my thoughts together into some form of clarity. What has been happening to me lately? Suddenly I possess some ungodly form of magic and it has caused me nothing but terrible trouble. When did it even start? And where the hell is it coming from? I don’t...I am not magical by any means. At the most I’ve witness Loki do some trivial magic, but nothing ever on the scale of what I have done in the last few hours.
“Mum?” I call out but there is no answer. I lift myself out of the bathtub, my arms feeling weak beneath my weight. I notice for the first time how bony my wrists are, my fingers like long birch twigs. I wrap myself in the golden linens beside the bathtub, drying myself quickly before throwing on a sheer linen dressing down lent to me by Frigga. I rake my fingers through my hair and look at myself in the mirror for the first time in a very long time. My eyes are terribly sunken, my cheeks gaunt, skin drawn tightly. I look as though I’ve aged nearly ten years in just a few days. Whatever this magic is is draining the very life from me. I look down and dry off the bracelet from Loki, absently twisting it beneath my fingers. It is so exquisite and it was so thoughtful of him. Of course, it would seem Loki and I are not exactly in the best standing right now. I wish he would just trust that I am not doing any of this of my own volition. I would never wish to harm him or anyone. Though it seems it is a little late for that now.
There is a crashing from Frigga’s room that pulls my attention from my hands and towards the door. I hurry over to the door, bracing myself against the counter and then the doorframe. I open the door and poke my head out to see what the matter is. “Frigga? Mum?”
There is a commotion to the right and suddenly I hear Frigga’s voice. “Valkyrie, my child, run!”
Suddenly Frigga appears, holding a dagger to the neck of a Dark Elf. Where are they coming from? I hurry into the room, blood pumping furiously. Frigga whips around in a blur of fabric and hair and engages in hand to hand combat with the elf, dragging him across the room, fighting him fiercely as I stand, helpless to do anything. I look about for my mother who is creeping from the closet, wielding a tiny letter opener as her only defense. I shake my head violently at her but she barely gives me a sideways glance. She attacks the Dark Elf from behind, imbedding the blade in its shoulder.
I grip the bed bannister tightly as I try and stop the two of them. I search desperately somewhere in me for the magic, but it does not come. “Damn!”
I look up and the elf has his hands on my mother. He hisses something in his mother tongue as he reaches his hands up to her neck. I let go of the bannister and rush forward, but the elf lashes out and backhands me, sending me stumbling backwards before I can do anything to stop him. I look up in horror as the Dark Elf grips my mother’s head and twists abruptly, her neck snapping audibly in the slow seconds of silence that seem to pass before me.
“NO!” I struggle to get to my feet but now Frigga has brought the Dark Elf back into combat. I am aware that I am crying, but I wipe these tears and kiss the back of my mother’s cold hand before getting myself to my feet. The door swings open and I make eye contact with Odin before I go to Frigga’s aid. Before I can even reach her the elf thrusts his blade through her chest. Her eyes meet mine and blood blossoms on the fabric of her blue dress like a crimson flower. She crumples to the ground before me as the elf removes his blade. My eyes are brimming with tears but before the Dark Elf can head towards Odin I lunge forward and jump upon his back, yanking him down to the ground, wrapping his war braid around and around my wrist. I kick his blade free from his hand and take it in my own trembling one, bringing it to his throat.
I look to Odin for permission to annihilate this murderous creature and he gives a slight nod. I pull the thing’s head back so that it is forced to look me in the eyes as I draw the blade to its throat.
“The mighty warrioress of Asgard,” it hisses, “not so mighty now!” It lets out a hacking laugh and my eyes grow wide, my body coursing with anguish. I bury the blade in its throat, slicing its neck open, blood spilling all across its chest and to my own skin and I let out an agonizing scream that stings my throat and brings blood to my lips. Its blood is warm as it washes over me, but I do not feel the revulsion or the empathy. Instead, I feel nothing.
Odin pulls me to my feet and away from the room full of bodies, dragging me into the bathroom once more. He sits me down on the edge of the bathtub and fusses over me, cleaning the blood from my face. I stare at him blankly for a while before I grab his wrist and hold it tightly.
I open my mouth and this time nothing comes out. Odin stares back at me expectantly. Suddenly sobbing. Gross, uncontrollable sobbing. But I have cried so much lately that the tears don't come. My eyes are dry but my soul is dredged with sorrow. I have failed again and again. I have grown soft and weak and now everything seems to get the best of me.
“I couldn’t save them,” I whisper. Odin takes my face in his hand, squeezing my jaw tightly.
“Calm yourself, Valkyrie,” Odin commands, the deepness of his voice resonating within my own chest. I swallow hard and study him carefully. The sadness is clear in his eyes but his jaw is tense and firm. For the first time I realize how old he actually appears to be. With no crown, no diadem, no presence of royalty. He looks simply like a sad old man. My fingers curl tightly around the edge of the bathtub. I have seen Odin like this once before, on the Rainbow Bridge, when the Bifrost gifted me with Sight. I saw Odin just in this moment. Of course, that vision could not have been more infuriatingly useless.
“I am calm,” I insist with a slight hiccup. Odin gazes at me wearily but releases my now-sore jaw. The thought strikes me suddenly. “I must inform Thor and Loki.”
“Valkyrie, perhaps it is best if we keep this between us for just now. Asgard is not currently in the most stable of positions,” Odin says firmly, lending me to believe this is not so much a suggestion.
I shake my head, getting to my feet with some certainty. “Odin, you do not really believe that I will keep this from them?”
“I believe it is in your best interest to do as I say, child.”
My sorrow sheds its disbelief and turns instead to rage. I grip Odin by the throat and back him up against the sink. “Do not test me, Odin. I just watched the two women I love most die whilst I stood idly by. You may believe secrecy is best for Asgard, but I choose to believe otherwise. Asgard is strong. Asgard deserves truth. We cannot hide behind lies and trickery any longer. I want to protect Asgard. I will not fail Asgard. I will not fail ever again. And you had better believe nothing will prevent me from doing what I must to see Asgard triumphs.”
Odin looks murderous but both says and does nothing. I release him, my pulse pounding so loudly I can hear the blood moving in my ears. I back away and head out the door, hurrying through Frigga’s room and into the hall. I hurry back across the palace, not stopping for anything. That is, of course, until I hear my name called from the opposite end of the hallway that separates my chambers from Loki and Thor’s. I turn and see Frey rushing towards me.
“My lady!” he calls and I flinch. When he reaches me he bows his head slightly and then he looks me over. “Are you alright? You are covered in blood?”
I look down at my linen dressing down, thin and sticking to me in all manners of indecency. Frey looks away, averting his eyes and tugging off his jacket, wrapping it about my shoulders.
“The queen and my mother have been killed,” I say, taking Frey by the arm abruptly and pulling him with me towards my room.
“What?”
“They were slain by a Dark Elf whilst I watched.”
“A Dark Elf...but how? I thought they were all killed or imprisoned during the battle,” Frey says and I stop before my door, turning to look at him.
“They were,” I say firmly. “Something about this doesn’t make sense.” I push my door open angrily and pull Frey inside. I press up against the door, pinching the bridge of my nose, and sliding down to the base of the door, pulling my legs up to my chest. It takes me a while before I realize Frey has sat himself down next to me, looking at me with those impossible blue eyes.
“Are you alright?” he asks with a very grave intensity. I bite on my lower lip intensely, a sharp pain racing through my mouth. I am again trying not to cry.
“I am...I will be fine...”
“That is not what I asked you, Valkyrie.” I look at him, really, truly look at him and then I reach out and touch his cheek gently before dropping my hand. He takes that hand in his and offers me a faint smile.
“You are too kind,” I say quietly. “It’s not a good thing. One day, someone will break you.”
I get to my feet and cross to the center of my room, stripping out of his jacket and tossing it back toward him. I shrug out of my bloody dressing gown, leaving me naked and cold. I look down and examine the blood that has seeped through to my skin, sticky patches of deep crimson, and brackish black. I am not entirely certain who the blood even belongs to. I am not certain I care to know the truth of the matter.
I go to my closet and behind me Frey quietly says, “Perhaps I should leave?”
I glance at him over my shoulder, dully coming to the realization that I am very much naked in front of him. “Stay.”
I head into the closet and absently look for a dress, trying my best to not cry again. I must be strong, as I have resolved to be from now on. I grasp a dress in my hands and close my eyes firmly, holding my emotions at bay. When I open my eyes it as though an inky blackness has oozed from my hands directly on the fabric, turning the once green fabric to a pure black. I gasp, pulling my hands away, but the magic does not undo itself. Instead, the dress remains black, sticking out amongst the other gowns in my wardrobe. I pull it down and put it on, finding it to be suddenly quite appropriate.
I re-emerge from the closet and Frey is still standing against the door, examining his hands thoroughly. He looks up when I appear and I beckon him over wordlessly, afraid my voice will betray that tight feeling that now grips my throat. I gesture to the row of buttons on the back of the dress and he nods, turning me around. His fingers are clumsy and cool as they just barely grace the skin of my back. When he is finished I smooth my bodice and take a deep breath.
“Frey, will you fetch Loki for me?” I ask as I turn back around. My breath catches in my throat.
“Don’t bother,” Loki says from the door, looking utterly cold and contemptible. “You may go, Guarinnson. I must speak with Valkyrie alone.”
Frey looks at me with wide eyes but I nod slowly and send him on his way. Loki does not move from his post at the door, nor make any sound until Frey has vacated the room, leaving the two of us be.
“Loki...”
“I do not have the time for whatever it is you believe you are doing, Valkyrie.” His tone is flat and his face is grim.
“Your mother is dead.” The words come out without me realizing. Loki falters, taking a step closer to me.
“W-what did you just say?”
I swallow hard, batting away the tears blurring my vision. “Frigga and my mother were killed.”
“What?” The word is a pained whisper. Then he laughs. “And to think I believed you had settled your heart on that insufferable Frey.”
“Oh, my dear, no!” The words catch in my throat as I begin to cry. But it feels unjustified in front of Loki who will undoubtedly weep much more than I. I have found myself utterly unable to weep over the death of my true queen and my true mother, restraining myself from the emotion, and yet now the tears sting my eyes as freshly as they did when I watched them die, useless and helpless.
He shakes his head back and forth and I want to hold him. I reach my hands out to him, so close to me, and he meets me halfway. I cradle his head against my shoulder and he lets out a sound I have never heard him make. The sound of true sorrow.
“My god, when?”
“Not long ago at all...there was a-a Dark Elf. He came from nowhere and I could not stop him as he killed both Frigga and my mother. I was weak but you must forgive me...”
“Forgive you?” Loki lifts his head and grits his teeth, shaking his head. “There is nothing to be forgiven for. You have done no wrong, my love.” He presses his forehead to mine and I finally lose the ability to hold it in at all. The tears drip down my face, stinging my sore skin with their heat and their salt. The next thing I know the two of us are holding each other, clutching at each like there is nothing else in the world to hold onto. As though if I were to let go of him now the world would slip away from me and I would lose him forever. His body is trembling and I can feel his tears as they drip from his face onto the top of my head.
I sniff hard and wipe my tears away, “Loki, we must tell Thor. And perhaps you should see to Odin and make certain he is alright. I may have threatened him, so...”
“Of course you did,” Loki laughs bitterly. He holds me by my shoulders, looking at me apathetically. I sense something in him and I lay my hand on his chest.
“You need some time to yourself, I understand. I will meet you in Thor’s room,” I concede. Loki grimaces in what appears to be an attempt to smile and I take his hand in mine, kissing his knuckles lightly. He tilts my chin up and presses a faint kiss to my lips. I head out of the room, pausing in the doorway.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper without turning around.
“I love you.”
I close the door hurriedly, afraid I’m going to lose it all over again. But I am afraid. Afraid that if I am to lose control that I will do something with my magic again. Just as I did in the dungeons, as I did with the Dark Elf in the hall...that makes two Dark Elves that have appeared from nowhere and somehow were wandering about the palace? They hardly could have strolled in the front door. Which means they must have...damn. They came from within the palace.
I rap lightly on Thor’s door, my heart thumping wildly in my chest again. Faintly down the hall I hear a heart-wrenching cry and I know it can be nobody but Loki. I squeeze my eyes shut firmly, my head swirling with too many things. Too many thoughts. Too many connections. Too many emotions.
“Valkyrie?” A soft voice greets me and I open my eyes. A somber-looking Jane Foster stares back at me, her eyes wide and so perfectly doe-like. So innocent.
“I...hey, Jane. Is Thor here?” I ask, not wanting to seem too impatient but there is really no point in further delaying the inevitable. She nods, looking at little puzzled and I make a note to apologize later for my icy demeanor. Thor looks up from the table where he was hunched over, scribbling away at a piece of paper. I go to Thor and clasp his hands in mine and kneel before him.
“I wish that I was not the one to bear this news to you. My dear, sweet Thor, Frigga has been slain.”
Thor looks at me almost blankly and then he slowly shakes his head. “I do not...this cannot be.”
“Would that I could say it were not. Your brilliant, strong mother died trying to protect me from a Dark Elf. My own mother aided her in her fight but they both fell to the elf,” I inform him. He looks as though he is now looking through me and I suddenly realize Loki is behind me. His hair is in disarray which he runs his fingers through quickly before he drops to his knees beside me and embraces both Thor and I tightly, compacting me between the two grieving brothers. Thor does not cry as Jane does, but rather resolves to do something about it. Soon the three of us are on our feet again.
“And what of the monster?” Thor asks as Loki, Jane and I pursue him out the door. He is walking quickly and purposefully and I have no idea where he is going.
“I...I have killed the elf, Thor. Garroted him,” I say despite it probably not being of the best time to mention the gruesome details of the deaths. Thor stops suddenly and claps me on the back.
“Well done.”
He falls back into his aggressive stride, Jane dashing to keep up with him, Loki and I falling back a bit. I reach down for his hand and hold it between mine in front of me, resting the back of my hand against my stomach. He looks at me oddly but says nothing.
“I wish I knew the words to heal your wounds, my love,” I say quietly as we round the corner. He purses his lips but then offers me a sweet smile.
“Valkyrie, your pain is no less than mine. If only there was a way I could make you see that you have no responsibility to bear. This burden is not yours, and it is not yours alone.”
We spot Thor and Jane down the hall, who have passed by Frigga and Odin’s chambers. I am not sure of the destination until I watch them disappear down a narrower path. A path I know all too well. The private path that leads towards the armory and the vaults. Loki and I exchange a look and then hurry after them, our footsteps echoing, the only sounds in the very solemn palace. I pull Loki down the stairs, tugging him along with me. When I get to the bottom of the stairs I see Odin, Thor and Jane gathered around something I cannot see. I approach, pulling Loki with me. But when I get around to see what all the fuss is, Loki is staring back at me. I turn around and the copy-Loki flickers out of existence. Son of a bitch.
Nobody says a word until Loki crosses around towards me and I note the blood trickling from beneath the hem of his cuff. He catches this and pull his sleeve down, clasping his hands behind his back.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, feeling suddenly breathless.
“It’s gone,” Odin says cryptically.
“What is?” I ask, feeling an oppressive sense of foreboding, like lead in my chest. Loki pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. I look at the pedestal as Thor pounds his fist into it. But that’s just it. There is nothing there. Nothing upon this pedestal.
“I came to look after Valkyrie mentioned the Dark Elves and when she went to Thor,” Loki explains. I look at him but for some reason he will not meet my gaze. Something is seriously wrong. “I had a suspicion that I truly would have preferred going unaffirmed.”
Odin nods, “I went to the dungeons. Most of the elves are still contained. There are three missing in total. It seems their cell was compromised in some sort of magical event?” Odin’s narrow gaze slides over to me as I try to piece together what he is implying.
“Oh god,” I clasp my hands over my mouth. “Oh god, what have I done?”
“Three?” Thor continues to rage, his apparent coping mechanism. I gesture to the empty, now damaged, pedestal.
“I killed only two. Meaning the third...”
Loki continues, “Meaning the third managed to pass in and out of these vaults without being detected and is likely absconded with the damned thing.”
“I still don’t understand. What is it that the third Dark Elf has taken from the collection?” I am practically begging now, just barely keeping myself from imploding.
No one says anything immediately. Finally, Odin looks up at me again and shakes his head ever so slightly, his fingers gripping the edge of the pedestal so tightly that they have numbed to white. The marble splinters beneath his fingertips.
“They have taken the Infinity Gauntlet.”