Chapter 7
The Asgardians were never known for their brains but until now, Malekith didn't know they believed the other races of Yggdrasil to be as foolish as them. If they thought to hide the Aether from him by removing it from Asgard they were sorely mistaken. Hidden and buried by Bor it was beyond his senses but now, now it was awake. Awake and already taken in by a host. Now it didn't matter where in the Nine it was, Malekith would find it. It called to him, singing its sweet song of destruction and darkness. It called him here, to a world that was once his home.
As his ship descended over the barren wasteland that was Svartalfheim, Malekith could not but feel the stirrings of ancient anger. This was his legacy, a dead world not even populated by the ghosts of its former inhabitants. He killed his home, his people, and not even that was enough to stop Bor's forces. The old king was long dead but his family remained, and Malekith was more than happy to exact vengeance upon them. Murdering Odin's wife was a pleasure he hadn't foreseen but one that he enjoyed immensely, despite what it cost him. The scars now adorning the right side of his face were given him by none other than Bor's grandson, giving Malekith yet another reason to revenge himself on that thrice-cursed family.
The Aether's call grew stronger, a sign they were close. Malekith gave the order to land. Once aground, he descended down from the command deck and out the ship's doors. At first he saw nothing but the bleak landscape. No life, not even any flora survived the war. The wreckage of the ships he ordered down during the battle poisoned the ground so completely that even now, five millennia later, the realm was still dead. There was nothing but bare mountains and lifeless dirt. And sandstorms that never ceased, forever swirling from one corner of the realm to the next.
He couldn't see it yet, but Malekith felt the Aether draw ever closer. He sensed it burning for a stronger host and it would be his pleasure to provide it with one. Then he would make Asgard suffer as his people suffered. It was only a matter of time.
On the crest of a nearby hill, two figures appeared. One was the girl Odin's queen died protecting, the Aether's host; a mortal thing who was even now being eaten up by the power inside her. The second was Odin's other son, the same one who'd lashed out ineffectually against Algrim. At his side, his kursed soldier growled. Whether in anger or surprise Malekith couldn't tell, but it hardly mattered. Whatever Odin's whelp thought he was doing bringing the girl here, he was vastly outnumbered. It would be quick and enjoyable work taking him apart.
The girl gasped when she saw them. "Loki, what are you doing?"
"Malekith!" the whelp called out. He was all but dragging the female along with him, her feet scrabbling for purchase in the dust beside him. "I am Loki of Asgard, and I bring you a gift."
He threw her down at Malekith's feet. Malekith only allowed a raised eyebrow to show his surprise.
"A surprisingly generous gift from the house of Odin," Malekith said, releasing the girl and standing again. "So much so that I don't believe it. Why fight so hard to keep it from me only to turn it over now?"
A pained smirk twisted the corner of Loki's mouth, and grief filled his eyes. "I did not fight for the Aether. I fought for my mother." His voice cracked at her mention. He paused, visibly trying to collect himself. "You brought death and destruction to Asgard, it's true. But you would never have come if not for this wench. She awoke the Aether. She brought it to us, and with it, you. Because of her Asgard is in ruins and my mother is dead!"
The last was screamed and the girl flinched away from him and in her fear, drew closer to Malekith.
"I cannot harm her while the Aether yet resides within her body," Loki continued. "I know not how to remove it. Take it. I have no need for it. Take it, and leave her to me."
She was crying now, pathetic creature. Crying and begging. "Loki don't, please. I'm sorry. I never meant for this to happen, I swear."
Malekith watched it all play out with hidden amusement. They were entertaining, he would give them that. There was however, still the matter of why a son of Odin would help an enemy, let alone one who caused him so much personal grief.
"Why should I believe you?" he asked, abandoning subterfuge. "You have every reason to hate me and my kind."
"And I do," Loki agreed. "But not as much as I hate her."
"What of your people, your realm? You have no love for them either?" Malekith watched the muscles along Loki's jaw working as he glared at the so-called wench. A lone tear escaped the corner of one eye.
"The only thing... the only person I loved in Asgard is gone." Loki raised his head, eyes burning with a rage Malekith knew well. A rage borne of having lost everything. "Take your vengeance, Malekith, I care not. I only ask that you let me have mine.
Malekith's gaze travelled to and fro between Loki and the girl. If this was a trick, he wasn't seeing it. The Aether's call was stronger than ever. He stooped low and grabbed the girl's chin, looking deeply into her eyes. Yes, the Aether was still inside her, and nothing had been done to damage or corrupt it. Already it was overwhelming the girl's body. If he did not claim it, it would burn her to ash from the inside out. Not that her fate concerned him. There was simply no reason to wait until then. And if there was yet some betrayal still looming, the Odinson would be easy enough to dispatch. The boy was outmatched in numbers and power. They wouldn't even need the Aether to prevail over him.
Reaching toward the girl, Malekith answered the Aether's call. He lifted his hand and with it, she rose into the air, skirts billowing in the wind. With a single twist of his wrist, the Aether came pouring out of her. Tendrils of red, writhing and twisting, seeking their new master. Through it all, the girl was silent, too terrified to do anything more than stare.
Once the Aether was fully free of her, Malekith let her drop, giving no care for where she landed. The Aether held his gaze, and with it his full attention. It was so beautiful, all that power just waiting for him. After so long, the glorious darkness would again shroud the universe. And this time, nothing would stand-
"Thor, now!"
Malekith had only enough time to turn his head Loki's direction before a bolt of lightning struck him square in the chest.
~~~|~~~
"What you said to Father before he..." Thor hesitated when Loki bristled at the reminder of the altercation. "You said to tell everyone she died. You were about to say more. What was it?"
"It doesn't matter," Loki said at last. "None of it matters."
With that, he turned and walked away.
At least, he tried.
For once, Thor was too quick. Loki couldn't make his escape before his brother seized him again, this time with a hand on each shoulder, forcing them to face each other.
"Loki, she will live, I'm sure of it. She will live, thanks to you."
She yet may not, also thanks to me, Loki thought but didn't say.
"Father was wrong," Thor went on. "I would tell him so but I'm sure he already knows and would tell you himself if you gave him the chance. Now please, brother, please tell me what you are thinking. We need you. Asgard has not faced so great a threat in five thousand years and there is no one who understands it better than you. You know of the dark elves, you've studied everything there is to learn about the Aether. Please don't give in to despair now, not when you may be our best—our only hope."
He's an idiot. At first, that was all Loki could think. Staring into his brother's clear blue eyes and painfully earnest face, Loki's only thought was, he's an idiot. How many times had Thor claimed he had no way with words? He had no clue, no idea whatsoever, of the power he did have. Where Loki could nearly always find the exact right words to elicit the response he wanted, Thor's tactic was simpler. Simpler, but no less effective. Sincerity. Complete and utter sincerity would succeed where even the cleverest of wordplay failed. Not even Loki, who was well-familiar with the art of manipulation could resist it.
"Bor is long dead," he began, still unable to tear his gaze away from his brother's eyes. "Malekith cannot recompense himself on him, but he can punish Bor's line. Our line.That's why he was so willing to-"
An unbidden image of the sword plunging into Frigga's back filled his vision. He felt his own scream choked off in his throat.
"To target Mother, yes," Thor prompted, dragging Loki away from the painful reverie.
"...His forces remain here, though they are beyond our sight. If we let word be spread that she died, Malekith will not make another attempt on her, but more importantly, he will think he has tasted victory. He will be that much more confident even without the Aether in his grasp."
Thor's eyebrows furrowed. "But what does that gain us? If he feels more secure in his plans, he will try again to claim the Aether, will he not?"
"No, he won't have to."
"Why?"
"Because I'm going to give it to him."
Thor's features slackened with shock, then twisted with such rage that for a fleeting second, Loki was certain he was about to be struck again.
"Loki-"
"It's killing her, brother," he hastened to add, "and I will not find a solution in time. Only Malekith knows how to remove it."
"If you turn her over, he has no reason not to strike her dead."
"She's dead if we do nothing, Thor. She won't survive the night."
The pained look on Thor's face confirmed that he knew the truth as well. Jane's mortal body would not last to the next day.
"I swear to you, brother, I won't let her come to harm at Malekith's hand. I can play upon his confidence in our defeat and convince him to let her be."
Thor's gaze slid off to the side, mulling over Loki's words and not looking very happy at his own thoughts.
"Brother, please. I can do this, you know I can." Please trust me, Loki begged silently. I have to do this.
As if moved by the mute plea, Thor nodded his agreement. "And once the Aether is out of her, then what?"
Relief flooded Loki's chest, followed by a sudden wave of warmth. It had been so long since the two of them worked together on something. He hadn't noticed how much he missed it. Unable to stop a smile from spreading across his face, he said, "That's where you come in."
~~~|~~~
With perfect accuracy, a bolt of lightning struck the center of Malekith's chest and Loki permitted himself a brief moment of unrestrained and rather indecent glee at the sight. Their enemy was thrown back nearly halfway to his ship and out of reach of the Aether. His foot soldiers were thrown into confusion at this sudden attack from a heretofore invisible enemy. Loki dropped the cloak hiding his brother, knowing very well how intimidating the sight of a vengeful Asgardian warrior could be. Thor did not disappoint.
His eyes, bright with anger and a lust for battle, looked as though they could emit lightning themselves. Muscles bulging beneath his armor and chain mail, Thor charged the elves with a roar, looking every inch the God of Thunder he was.
The elves recovered from their shock with impressive speed, but it wasn't fast enough. Thor was already on them. Though Loki would enjoy nothing more than watching his brother tear them apart, there was another matter he needed to attend to.
He took a quick step forward, reached out, and hoisted Jane to her feet. Her eyes were wide and fearful, like a rabbit caught in a snare. "Run, Jane," he said. "I will conceal you but you must distance yourself from the fight."
Loki let go of her but she remained where she was, numb with shock.
"I'm sorry, but there is no time to explain," he told her. "Now run!"
His raised volume on the last word jolted her out of her stupor. The shock in her eyes turned to fury, and she opened her mouth to say something but as the urgency of the situation truly sank in, she closed it again and did as she was told. Loki watched her for the first few steps before shrouding her with the same cloaking spell he used for Thor. With her safety as assured as it could be, he was free to carry out the rest of his part.
It wasn't a lie that he didn't know how to extract the Aether from Jane's body. Once it was free, however, that he could work with. Now that Malekith was out of the way and his brother occupied the rest of his forces, he had a brief window to carry out his plan. His stupidly dangerous plan.
Stretching out both his arm and his seiðr, he called the Aether to himself.
Loki had no idea if the Aether would eventually do to him what it was doing to Jane or if once it was inside him he could expel it himself, facts of which he may have neglected to inform his brother. Thor would surely have protested such a risk, perhaps even insisted that he take in the Aether instead or that they find another way altogether. That was something Loki just couldn't allow. Not only was there no time for another plan, but he knew he had to do it himself. Since he failed to find the Aether before any harm was done, it fell to him to make up for it. It was a price he owed to Jane, to Asgard, to everyone. Above all, to his mother. If she had not hesitated to place herself in grave danger to protect them all, how could he do any less?
The amorphous blackish red cloud of the Aether remained hovering in the air just above him. A few tendrils reached down, as though considering him as host. Loki tried to be welcoming to it, forcing away any doubt or fear over the cost of doing so. It seemed to be working. The Aether drew ever so slightly closer, with more branches extending out to him. They were close, so close. A few more seconds, a few more inches, and the Aether would be out of Malekith's hands forever. His beloved darkness would never fall. The rest of Yggdrasil would watch the Convergence pass as it had before, with no inkling of how close they'd come to annihilation.
Loki felt the Aether responding to his call, brushing up against his own seiðr. Just a hint of so much power at the edge of his fingertips left him near breathless. His heart raced with exhilaration and his head spun as though he were intoxicated. And it was so close. If he could only stretch a little farther and take it-
Agony ripped through his body, exploding from his core. He froze, too overcome with the shock of it to even draw breath to scream. Lowering his chin to look down was such a strain he began to shake with the effort. Erupting from his abdomen was the long blade of an elven sword, its metallic sheen darkened with blood. His blood.
The blade began to slide backwards and the excruciating pain doubled. Loki fell to the ground, dimly aware over the hammering of his own heartbeat in his ears that someone was screaming. Was it him? He didn't think so. He was pretty sure he was laughing. This was just what they'd tried on his mother. He was going to die the same way. And he hadn't even gotten the Aether.
What could be funnier than that