Stars
Days passed, and Loki had begun to get used to the strange feeling that occasionally made itself known. A hint of anxiety, mixed with curiosity and anger. He returned to his daily activities, hoping that one day he would have the chance to meet Wanda Maximoff again—the only woman who had managed to stir his mind.
In Asgard, the mythical abode of all gods, the weather was almost always perfect. It didn’t matter what season it was, as they didn’t apply here. Usually, a beautiful sun shone over Asgard, and the temperature was pleasant, not too hot. However, there were days when Thor had a whim and brought foul weather to the castle. He loved snowy weather, so whenever it was winter in Midgard, it was winter in Asgard as well—thanks to Thor’s initiative.
Loki stood leaning against the railing of a grand balcony, from which a breathtaking view of the mountains unfolded. At night, the Asgardian sky looked like a fairy tale. All the constellations, colors of the cosmos, and other wonders and planets were visible to the naked eye. No one tried to overshadow the brilliance of the stars. Everything was clearly visible, adding just a bit more magic to the place. Tonight was one of the most beautiful nights—the night of falling stars, where comets and stars traversed the cosmos, summoned by the unquenchable star of Nidavellir.
The man gazed at the sky, lost in various thoughts. He usually looked at the stars when he sought answers to questions or needed to calm his frayed nerves. They gave him space to breathe. But tonight, he had no clear questions or dilemmas. He simply couldn’t sleep... or at least that’s what it seemed.
A knock echoed from the depths of the room. With a flick of his wrist, Loki opened the distant door. His chambers consisted of a slightly shadowed salon, which was surrounded on almost all sides by a raised platform that held a grand royal bed. The salon was separated from the sleeping area only by a dais and arcades adorned with intricate columns and delicate curtains, which provided a minimal sense of privacy and seclusion. There were no windows in the passage to the balcony—just ordinary columns, allowing the temperature in the room to match that outside the palace.
“My prince,” a familiar male voice called out, belonging to the court messenger, advisor, and perhaps the only person Loki referred to as a friend. Dorian Seveilson stood at the edge of the room and terrace, dressed in a long, dark coat adorned with silver patterns like stardust. “Your brother would like to speak with you in private.”
Loki turned to him with theatrical disdain and irritation.
“Then why did he send you instead of coming himself?” the god exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. “Idiot…”
The brunette moved from his spot toward his brother’s chambers located on the other side of the palace. The elf slowly followed him. The only source of light in the palace corridors at night were two enormous stained glass windows located at opposite ends of the hallway, through which light streamed in. Loki pushed open the large wooden door and disappeared behind it. His and Thor’s rooms were practically indistinguishable, except for their color schemes and minor changes in furniture arrangement. The brunette looked around his brother’s room and, seeing him nowhere in sight, concluded that his dear brother must be hiding in the wardrobe.
“Are you in there?” Loki called out, peeking around the ajar door.
“No!” Thor replied with a hint of irony, then stepped out of the room with a leather bag in hand. Loki rolled his eyes, placing his hands on his hips, looking questioningly at his brother. “I’m heading to Midgard for a while. As your wonderful older brother, I thought you might want to visit your beloved.”
“What are you talking about?” Loki grimaced in distaste.
“I saw the way you look at her. You like her,” the blond grinned foolishly, nudging his brother in the arm.
“No—”
Before Loki could say anything, Thor shoved an object into his hand and, gripping his shoulders, turned him toward the exit.
“Don’t whine; you’ll relax a bit. You have no obligations right now, so you’re coming with me,” his brother interrupted and pushed him toward the exit.
***
“We should wake her up,” a soft and caring voice of Pepper could be heard from behind the wall. “She hasn’t eaten anything for several days. If she keeps sleeping, she’ll starve.”
“Calm down, Pepp; if she gets hungry, she’ll wake up,” James replied.
“What, calm down, James?! She won’t tell you she’s hungry. She’ll say everything is fine and that she ate when no one was around!” the blonde continued.
For the past several minutes, Wanda had been sitting against the wall in the salon, listening to the conversation between Clint, Nat, Pepper, and Bucky. In case someone passed by, she was hiding under the cloak of her powers, which allowed her to warp reality and create so-called “illusions.” Single tears streamed down her cheeks. She felt terrible being a burden to her friends.
“Clint? Nat? What do you think?” James asked.
“Pepper is right. We should wake her up and make sure she eats regularly... at least for a while. She needs to recover. Later, we’ll think about how to cheer her up and ensure this doesn’t happen again,” Nat stated.
“I think a compromise would be to give her an IV with something to keep her alive,” Clint shrugged.
Barton and Natasha sat on the couch, James leaned against the wall where the television hung, and Pepper nervously paced around the salon.
“Thor? What do you think?” Clint’s voice suddenly jolted the redhead to her feet, like a bucket of cold water.
What? When did he arrive? Is he here too?
Wanda stood up from the floor and peeked around the corner. No one saw her, but she could see them all. He was there too, dressed in a dark green turtleneck and black dress pants that contrasted with his pale complexion. His hair was slicked back and tied in a low bun. He leaned against the countertop, looking either bored or lost in deep thought. Suddenly, he lifted his head and looked directly into her green eyes, as if her magic posed no obstacle for him.
“I think your sleeping beauty is no longer asleep,” he remarked lightly.
A cold shiver ran down Wanda’s spine. Without a moment’s hesitation, she dashed to her room. Within seconds, everyone rushed to her bedroom. She hurriedly climbed into bed and covered herself with a blanket.
A soft knock echoed in the room. Then, one person entered. From the way he walked, Wanda deduced it was James.
“Hey, kiddo, how are you feeling?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I’m fine,” she replied with a faint smile, sitting up.
“I expected you to say that. I won’t pry if you don’t want me to, but know that I can see something’s not right,” Bucky said, placing his hand over hers. “I used to convince myself and everyone around me that I was fine, even when I was in the worst pit imaginable.” It struck her as strange that James spoke so calmly about his trauma and the issues he had gone through not long ago—about what he must have felt when they had tried to abduct and exploit him. “Remember, you can always come to any of us and vent... or just cry. Bottling it up won’t help you. I assure you.”
He ran his thumb over the back of her hand and then smiled gently.
“I’m really hungry. Can we cook something?” she asked, trying not to cry again, despite what James had said. Now everything would be fine; she would fix everything, and even if HE left, he wouldn’t find out anything, and she would manage. Everything is and will be fine.
“We have guests, and dinner is practically ready,” James said, rising from the bed and handing Wanda a warm hoodie that was hanging on her door. “We were hoping you’d eat with us, and we tried to make something to cheer you up. I don’t know how it turned out, but I hope you won’t kill us for it,” the brunette chuckled lightly, wrapping an arm around her.
“No matter what you made, it will be good,” Wanda rested her head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Buck.”
***
The day was drawing to a close. For the past few hours, Wanda had been watching her favorite movies with all the residents. They interspersed this with playing board games, one of the favorite pastimes of the Tower’s inhabitants. She felt much better thanks to this than when she spent time alone. However, she still felt a sense of lack of control and fear lingering in her heart and mind.
The redhead was getting ready for bed. Although she had slept for many hours, she needed to reset her biological clock. This was to be one of the few small steps that would help her shake off this emotional slump. Standing in front of the mirror, with her cheeks wet from the constant flow of tears, she slowly brushed her chestnut-red waves. A knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” she replied, guessing who might be on the other side. She was right. A tall, dark-haired god with the most beautiful green eyes entered the bathroom. However, those eyes no longer held their usual sparkle. They were empty and expressionless, as if all feeling had evaporated from him... She couldn’t leave it like that, even if it meant deceiving herself. “You’re back,” she whispered softly, giving him a look through her tear-streaked eyes.
In an instant, his expression softened, and that spark returned to his eyes. Now everything was alright.
“I promised I would return, my dear,” he approached her and wiped away a tear rolling down her cheek. “Don’t cry,” he gently grasped her chin between two fingers and lifted it so she would look at him. “Now everything will be alright.”
“I know,” she replied quietly as he embraced her.