A Well Deserved Day Off
He awoke wide eyed.
His mind was racing despite the relaxation he had felt mere moments ago, thoughts stumbling over one another in a hurry as he jolted upright, hands gripping into the soft sheets of his bed. Sweat was trickling down his still clammy skin left behind by a nightmare—a nightmare which felt much too real to be but made up by his brain.
Involuntarily his eyes hushed left and right until they found you, once more collapsed on the floor, unmoving. He sprung to his feet before he could comprehend what he was doing, steps swiftly bringing him over to crouch next to the barrier. Dried trails of tears were evident on your cheeks and he watched as you heaved a shuddering breath. It made him flinch despite the oddly genuine smile tugging your lips up ever so slightly—you seemed disheveled and battered and yet an almost sweet calmness radiated from your being.
You had entered his mind. During a nightmare.
You had freed him from its clutches, brightening the deep darkness corrupting his brain, quelling the flames flaring, singeing his skin and burning his body—
He shook his head to ridden of the imagery.
Quick steps brought him back to his bed, seating himself back on the blue covers to distance himself from you, from the situation.
What exactly was that nightmare of his? All these flames, all the fire? The seeming torture? It had felt much too real to be mere images of his mind. The more he thought and pondered, the more the fire within him welled back up and he couldn’t help but find himself back in the middle of a void, flames all around him leaping at his skin as if desiring to devour him whole.
A small noise from nearby ripped him out of his thoughts, eyes finding their way to you as you writhed in pain on the ground despite your sleep, feet digging against the stone floor in invisible strain. Instinctively—and much to his surprise—he felt himself draw the pain back into himself, felt himself shield you from it. Your body relaxed as the agony inside him grew, until he forced himself to calm down; more and more, until the flames were dimmed to a spark he put out with a whisk of air, with a breath.
Apparently the two of you had much more potential control over your connection than you knew.
The mere thought troubled him—much to his dismay. It would be quite the advantage after all, should he be capable of discarding all undesirable sensations and burden them on you.
But he just couldn’t. And he knew that.
Sure, the connection between the two of you was most likely at least partially to blame, but that wasn’t all there was to it. Apart from his mother you were the only person willing to come to the dungeons. To visit him. You had said so yourself after all—You came back for him, every time again. Again and again, despite the hurtful words he had flung at you, despite the hostility he had presented you with.
And if the feeling always residing within him wouldn’t be forcing him to accept your undeniably genuine words as the truth, he would have still been doubting and questioning your motives.
As it was—
His eyes once more wandered to your now peacefully sleeping form, watching as you drew in a careful breath, watching how you gave a light twitch and uttered a quiet groan, most likely about to wake.
As it was, he was alright with having you around.
——————
The first thing you did once you opened your eyes was looking around for the Prince, gaze almost fearful if not panicked, with your eyebrows drawn together and mouth slightly agape. Until you found him, lazily seated on his bed, gold on the cover of a book in his hands casting a glittery light across the room to you.
“Hey...,” you called, sluggishly rubbing your eyes with the back of your hands while you shifted into a seated position, easing the sleepiness away.
It took him a while to look up from his book, taking the time to slowly turn the page first. Yet you knew it was just a farce.
“Hello.” There was silence for a couple of seconds. “Little One.”
Your eyes widened at first—hearing him use that same belittling nickname he had used on you since your first fateful encounter back on Earth. But the tone in his voice was different. Seeming sweet, soft. Almost appreciative. And his eyes catching yours lacked the stinging bite behind them, forced indifference replaced with thinly veiled gratitude; Ice lingering behind his glare nearly melted due to your last fierce and fiery encounter.
You accepted his way of addressing you with a bright smile.
His eyes strayed to the side, fixating something behind you and you turned only to find Ragnarr approaching with hesitant steps.
“Hey Ragnarr!” you exclaimed, waving him over and watching him visibly relax.
“Hello,” he replied, coming to a halt next to you, “And good morning!”
He offered the Prince a quick but gentle bow and you suppressed a laugh at Loki’s perplexed reaction, at the deep feeling of confusion echoing in the back of your mind.
The brunette offered you a hand and you took it, letting him eagerly pull you to your feet before you hastily tried to brush your clothes free from the dust and dirt. All the while you caught Ragnarr eyeing you carefully and you offered him a confused glance in response until he shared his thoughts with you.
“You look—“ his eyes moved over to the Prince, slowly taking in his still disheveled appearance as well— “Exhausted.”
You laughed.
“That’s a nice way to say ‘like a wreck’,” you spoke, giving his golden metallic shoulder plate a firm pat of reassurance, “But it’s alright. No need to worry, it’s all sorted out.”
“That is good to hear,” he replied in obvious relief, “I hope you did not mind me not waking you. I had noticed you quite a while earlier but you appeared to be fast asleep. I did not want to disturb you—not while you seemed so...exhausted.”
He seemed to address you as well as Loki with his words, but as the Prince decided to play as uninterested in the conversation as possible, you opted to answer in both of your stead.
“No, I’m glad you didn’t. Thank you.”
Yes, Loki was listening incredibly intently. You could almost feel him smile, feel the little spark of contentment turn into amusement—
[How very perceptive of you.]
“Great!” he exclaimed, shifting a bit in his stance and shuffling his feet. He looked almost troubled before he finally decided to add on,
“My shift is almost over. Would you like me to accompany you to your accommodations this time?”
You didn’t even need to ponder—Ragnarr already felt like a friend of yours after all these nights, which he had spent watching over you as you sat with Loki, after all the time the both had spent talking, laughing down in the dungeons during his shift.
Just for how long had you actually been sleeping after your intrusion of the Prince’s mind? There was no sun seeping through any possible cracks helping you to tell the time after all, leaving you to further wonder how Ragnarr could.
“Yes,” you said, answering his question and watching his eyes light up with excitement, “That would be nice.”
———
After hesitantly leaving Loki behind in the dungeons, you walked along the hallways next to Ragnarr with a surprisingly heavy feeling of dread and guilt following you like the shadow latched onto your feet, cast onto the floor next to you by the beams of sun filtering through the columns. Ragnarr, as sensitive to bad mood as he was sweet, opted to change that the only way he knew how.
And so he filled the silence you created by telling you stories; about his life, about Asgard. About his times on duty and off-duty, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his many mishaps.
“The first time I had arrived to my shift I had managed to trip,” he explained, a smile so bright it accentuated the dimples on his dark skin, “I had stumbled and fell right in front of Tyr, the commander of the Einherjar.”
He paused to open the door leading to your accommodations for you, loud laugh echoing along the walls.
“You might be able to imagine just how embarrassed—“
He interrupted his sentence with a slight gasp, and you peaked behind him to discover Aldís standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed over her blue gown. Initially an expression of worry and slight frustration appeared to be etched on her soft features, but you watched it fade and be replaced with excitement in but a second.
“Ragnarr!” she exclaimed, freckles gleaming with her delight, sparkling like starts in the sky at night as she took quick steps over to him. He gave a bright laugh before opening his arms and pulling her into a hug, you watching from the sidelines.
She stepped out of his arms to look between the both of you with wide eyes.
“Why did you not tell me you knew each other?”
“I,” you began, wringing your hands, “I didn’t want you knowing how much time I spent down there.”
At her questioning gaze you added on, slight grin gracing your lips, “You keep fretting like a worried mother.”
Ragnarr’s delighted laugh ripped through the air.
“That is often the case, yes—“ he gave Aldís a quick, gentle pat on the shoulder before looking at you— “I must know. She is my sister.”
All of a sudden all of their similarities made a lot more sense. They even both shared their slightly rounded face shape, their full cheeks and kind eyes. With a can of tea, Aldís offered you to sit down and catch up, something you excitedly agreed to, knowing and fondly remembering its taste.
During the entirety of your conversation much more tea was consumed, along with little snacks; sweets and the breakfast Aldís had prepared. You had watched in fascination how animatedly Ragnarr’s expression shifted during your explanations; from slight anger to sorrow, from happiness to understanding. His face was terribly expressive, making it astonishingly easy for him to be read. Emotions practically poured out of him, so visibly it was much like some kind of aura pulsating with energy, being pushed out of his being with every beat.
Glancing from Ragnarr to Aldís and seeing, almost feeling the deep bond connecting them both you couldn’t help the sigh managing to tear through and past your lips, prompting the siblings to look up at you with questions looming behind their eyelids and resting on their tongues.
“I miss my family,” you finally said, hand picking on your clothes with your glance cast downwards. Images flashed in your mind upon seeing them like that—your family sitting with you and eating breakfast, sharing a laugh. Your best friend watching television with you, some kind of random movie they had wanted to watch for eons, because it was apparently perfect for you.
“Heimdall,” Ragnarr’s voice suddenly speaking up made you raise your head to look at him, “He is capable of seeing everything and everyone in the entire universe.”
Ragnarr placed a hand on your shoulder, gently trying to comfort you.
“If you want to, we should perhaps go see him.”
The mere prospect of catching but a glimpse—getting just a snippet of info regarding their whereabouts made you spring to your feet in a haze.
“Yes,” you said, “I would love that.”
——————
With a new destination in mind the two of you were led outside of the palace by Ragnarr, who was off duty for the rest of the day. He had switched his golden guard uniform with something that seemed slightly more comfortable; a traditional, Asgardian gown in sky blue, fit enough to be used for fighting with its light silver plates for necessary protection of more vulnerable parts.
Aldís walked along next to you, wearing something rather similar to her everyday wear, only a darker blue than usual with a tint of violet. You started to suspect that she owned a lot of clothes which looked alike, only differences being a slight change in silvery webbed pattern rimming the hem of the gown or slight variance in hue, some of her dresses being a lighter blue, others a darker one.
As usual you switched your clothes back to the day wear handed to you by Aldís all these days ago, back when you had woken for the first time. It still fascinated you, how they were obviously aimed to look more like your natural wear while keeping some core aspects of Asgardian outfits—most notable, the light pattern on it.
The inconsistency made you feel even more out of place, but with the coat draped over you, hiding most of you under its heavy fabric you felt more comfortable in your skin among people much more powerful and knowledgeable than you.
After the usual hallways, Ragnarr finally walked up to a more than just gigantic set of double doors, casting a grin at the soldiers positioned left and right, who opened them with a nod. In a quick motion your hand shot up to your face, shielding you from the harsh and bright sunlight casting a strong ray of light onto you. Once you blinked a few times, getting used to the brightness, you could finally cast a look at Asgard laying in front of you, in all its beauty and glory. The sun reflected off the walls of the castle next to you, casting its light onto the many plants and the enormous amounts of water flowing through the skillfully crafted architecture.
With a bright smile you hopped down the marble steps, Ragnarr getting caught up in your enthusiasm and joining you while Aldís had some trouble following you along. You moved through alleys sheltered by bridges, plants akin to ivy adorning the stone and gold, vines creeping along the cracks in the walls like veins. You passed waterfalls dropping into the depths right next to you, pushing yourself up against the railing to watch different rivers of water coming together in one gigantic flow dropping right down below and into nothingness.
The path led you to the market, walking past booths and houses, watching vendors shout for their newest ware while taking a few looks yourself. All the while you were laughing with the siblings along the way, eyes glistening with tears due to your excessive laughter, listening to Ragnarr delving into one of his many, exaggerated stories, getting so excited that Aldís had to interject and correct him every now and then.
Once the sun dipped below the horizon, tinting the world a light purple before it would eventually switch to a dark blue, you were tugged along to finally meet up with Heimdall.
Ecstatic as you still were, you had a skip in your step as you watched your feet touch the colorful bridge, watched it react to your steps with a quick pulse, brightening the colors even further. The golden building, an observatory as you were told, seemed to almost glow despite the lack of light, reaching much further above your head than you would have thought from afar.
A sudden rush of nervousness caught up with you making you halt mid-step in front of the entrance. You were gone for quite a while already, what should your family and friends even believe of you? Kidnapped? Dead? Kidnapped and dead? You weren’t sure what you would have believed in their stead. Perhaps they had even moved on already, waiting but a month before letting you go?
Sensing your nerves, Ragnarr placed a calming hand on your shoulder, gently forcing you to look at him. The smile he beamed at you, equaling even the sun in its intensity made you forget about your fears for long enough to step across the threshold and into the gleaming building. The inside was as glistening and golden as you remembered in your vague memory contorted by pain. Not a single spot of the room was colored any differently; gigantic sword placed in the middle of the chamber on a pedestal with the man in golden armor—the man you remembered you were looking for—standing right behind it, raising an eyebrow at the three of you but with the hint of a smile gracing his face.
“Welcome,” he spoke, voice seeming distant but radiating an intense warmth while he addressed the three of you by your name. You opted to not question that.
“You are here for your family, is that correct?” he continued on and you could merely nod, much too fascinated by his abilities. You noted how his gaze on you left room for objections, enough time for you to rethink your decision—but you only shook your head to his unasked question.
“Yes, I’d like to know,” you replied, watching as he closed his eyes and everything was plunged into deathly quiet. Nothing in the room moved while he concentrated and you could practically feel his intense focus burning through time and space. When he opened his eyes back up they appeared saddened, but hopeful.
“Your relatives and acquaintances are well,” he started off, placing his hands on the handle of the sword in front of him, “You have been declared missing, yet your family and friends are convinced that you will return eventually.”
In that moment all you could do was smile through thinly veiled tears.
Whatever Fury might have in store for you—You decided to not care anymore. Your family and friends were waiting for you, each passing day leading to them further losing a slight bit of hope left residing within them while they awaited and anticipated your sudden arrival.
With a much more hopeful and determined mood bubbling out of you like water out of a fountain you once more resumed the skip in your step, walking back across the bridge with Aldís and Ragnarr to head back inside after a day spent happily and in contentment.
———
In the following days you continued to visit Loki as always, sitting perched on the stone floor and intently listening to whatever he talked to you about. He had gotten much more docile, and it was obvious. Every now and then you would catch him shooting you a light smile—barely visible, easy to miss and yet, when you caught it, incredibly genuine.
“The book you keep reading,” you spoke up, and like a silent reply he turned in his seat to shoot a look at it, resting on the table, “What is it about?”
He had been studying it intently since you had first visited him in the dungeons, tiny, truly simplistic bookmark placed somewhere along in the first couple of pages. You had watched it shift position every time, stuck somewhere at the end before moving back to the front—marking it read more than just ten times already.
Your eyes moved from the golden glistening cover back to him just as he turned back around, facial expression oddly unreadable. Even his thoughts seemed terribly and unusually closed off, as if he did all he could to hide them from you, stop them from seeping through the link.
He moved his mouth, taking a breath to prepare for a reply.
“Let us hope you will never need to find out.”
——————
It had been a month since he had been send by the All-Father to solve a gridlocked, political situation in one of the nine realms situated under Asgard’s protection. His heart was still heavily weighed down by the newest revelations regarding his little brother, weighed down by the worry lingering in the back of his mind regarding your current condition. And under such condition it was truly difficult for him at times, to try and talk his way through with the stubborn leaders persisting on their separate opinions. Sometimes he would honestly rather just pick up Mjölnir to solve this seemingly unsolvable situation the traditional Asgardian way.
He refused to even try and recite the number of times he had entertained the thought alone.
It had been one, exhausting, tiring month—now Thor was back, knocking firmly on your door and waiting for your affirmative consent to enter your room.
Waiting to bring you the News.