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❛ ᴇᴛᴏɪʟᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏ sᴛᴀʀs
ᴅᴏ ʙᴇsᴛ? ꒱


❝ WE EITHER LEAVE
HERE TOGETHER OR
NOT AT ALL ❞

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A S G A R D

"You know these witches, Loki?" Thor asked as he and the dark-haired prince crouched just outside of their home, peering through the windows. Thor would have simply charged in to engage the women in battle, but there must've been something he sensed in Loki's hissed warning that made him pause.

The Trickster scoffed. "Just because I know magic doesn't mean I know every witch, brother. But, as it happens, I do unfortunately know these three. Very nasty, the lot of them."

"I'm surprised father has allowed them to live in Asgard," the blond mused, once more toying with the strap of his hammer.

"Father doesn't know they're in Asgard," Loki corrected him. "They have powerful cloaking spells that can hide them from Heimdall's Sight."

This earned him a suspicious side-eye from the man next to him. "And how do you know that, brother?"

"Never you mind," he answered breezily, fixing his gaze on the balcony, which they could just see the edge of from their position. "I sensed potent spell work from that second floor. I believe that is where they plan to sacrifice. . ." he trailed off, swallowing the sourness in his mouth at the thought of Eleanora's demise. ". . .the Star. We must target that immediately. But be warned, brother— they know magic well, and I will not be able to defend us with my seiðr."

Since Thor did not care for the inner workings of magic, Loki did not provide him a detailed explanation for why this was so; he merely stated the facts to reach their end goal faster. He hoped they weren't too late. Oh, gods, if they were. . . he pushed the thought aside; he wouldn't have to go down that path. "Very well. Let's go, then."

As there was no more to discuss, Loki allowed his brother to charge through the doors as he followed in pursuit. He could immediately feel the clamp around the source of his power as the witch's runes snuffed out his abilities. Thor burst forward with a yell, swinging Mjolnir ferociously. He grabbed the nearest person, a young, dark-haired woman shrieked in fright.

Wait.

All of the witches he'd met previously had been old. He was almost certain that there were three of them, no more. The fear in the women's eyes was that of a hunted animal, not a formidable predator. He flung out a hand to keep his brother from hurting her. "Stop! She is not one of them!"

Thankfully, Thor trusted his call and released the brunette, his expression loosing its fierceness as he asked, "are you alright?"

She nodded, mustering enough courage to point towards the balcony. "The Star. Hurry!"

The distraction cost him. One of the witches— the taller of them— summoned a gust of flames that shot directly towards the prince. In retaliation, the skies above them grew dark as storm clouds rolled in. Just as the heat began to lick at Thor's skin, he summoned a bolt of lightning that cracked through the roof so that its forked tongue could alight on the witch. Her flames vanished before they even touched him. A pile of ash was left in the place where the witch had stood.

Rather than focus on his brother's fight, Loki's gaze scanned the area for possible assets that he could use. He noticed the dozens of chandeliers that hung from the ceiling, each with thousands of glass crystals. That could work. If only. . . he followed the ropes to where they were tied around anchors against the wall. He would only have to lure the witches under them before he could send the weight of the light fixture crashing down.

The problem was that the two witches didn't look like they would be engaging in the battle anytime soon. Herja and her sister were still on the balcony with— his breath caught. Eleanora. She was still alive. Confused, scared, but alive, and that was what mattered.

✧ ✧ ✧

Loki had told Eleanora enough stories about his brother and his friends that she could recognize Thor on sight. He was a large, muscled man with a head of flowing blond hair and bright blue eyes. The eldest prince was ruggedly, obviously good looking with none of Loki's lithe grace or reserved cunning. If his appearance didn't give him away, then certainly the lightning-wielding did. She couldn't bring herself to feel sorry for the now-dead witch, especially not when her two sisters were still intent on cutting out her heart.

Even with Thor as a savior, she did not feel reassured; once he rescued her, he would take her directly to his father— the one path she wanted to avoid taking. She was still doomed, albeit to a different fate. Pirates, witches, kings! She didn't know what was worse. But then her hopes lifted as another figure stepped from the shadows. Her heart leapt in her chest at the sight of him and the shine around her head returned, unbidden.

"Loki," she breathed out, a beaming smile forming on her face. He hadn't abandoned her after all.

"Get them," Herja hissed with a deadly glare in her eyes. She still held the glass knife that would be used to cut Eleanora's heart out, and the blonde tried to ignore its sharp blade in favor of keeping her eyes on the god she loved.

The shorter witch, Heidi, trundled down the stairs, toddling in her heavy skirts and robust figure. Eleanora watched as the two royal brothers exchange a glance, as if silently communicating a battle strategy. Thor brought his hammer down once more, causing many tongues of lightning to flare around the room. They crackled with an electricity that made her skin prickle, reminding her of the lightning that Loki had caught on board Captain Shakespeare's ship.

As the bolts of energy sizzled to life, she realized that they were aimed at specific places: each strike hit the locks on the caged animals that surrounded the edge of the room. They melted, allowing the doors to spring free. All of the animals that had been kept caged up for who knew how long— skinny, hungry and feral— flung themselves at the second witch. She went down with a scream and Eleanora had to look away to avoid the gruesome sight. That didn't stop her from hearing the sounds of tearing flesh as the creatures feasted on her body.

Herja was the only witch left now. Although Eleanora couldn't hear what he said, she saw Loki turn to his brother and speak to him. Thor nodded, his own face grim as he watched the remaining sister warily. The older prince backed away as Herja walked down the steps towards the God of Mischief. They faced each other fearlessly, the old woman even smirking at him mockingly. "So, what's it to be, Prince Charming? Frog or tadpole?"

"Neither, preferably," Loki replied smoothly. "I chose lightning."

She only had time to think lightning? before the god swung the cannister that had been strapped to his back all day around, and opened it. Concentrated lightning shot from the container, directly at the old woman. She yelled in pain as it electrocuted every pore of her body, singing her skin as it burned through her. She was flung backwards from the force and flipped a full rotation in the air before she landed face-down with a grunt.

Loki capped the holder to cut of the electricity. He remained battle-ready as he watched the woman, knowing that she was the type to fake her surrender. Sure enough, she dragged herself to her feet, panting against the surge of energy that had entered her system. Taking advantage of her delay, he used his dagger to cut the nearest rope, hoping it would belong to the chandelier she was under.

Unfortunately, he wasn't that lucky. One of the huge light fixtures crashed to the ground further away. Eleanora yelped at the shattering glass as the explosion happened too close for comfort, turning her face away to avoid the shards. Herja cackled at his failure and began to make her way back up to the steps where the Star was still strapped to the table.

He cut another rope. This time, the chandelier fell just behind her, missing her by inches. Not wanting to risk wasting any more time, Loki grabbed the next cord and held on as he freed it from its anchor. The counter weight was strong enough that it allowed him to fly through the air as the chandelier sank to the ground. He landed on his feet with catlike reflexes on the balcony above before the witch arrived.

Rushing over to the blonde, his eyes scanned her face worriedly to make sure she was alright. She smiled at him despite her fear of the witch who was still pursuing them. He used his dagger to slice through the first strap, but that was as far as he got. Eleanora lifted her head slightly, her eyes widening at the sight behind him. "Loki!"

He didn't hesitate as he heeded her warning, lifting his dagger as he turned to block the oncoming blow from Herja, who had her own blade, the sacrificial glass knife. "Attacking while a man's back is turned, witch? Have you no honor?"

Herja sneered, her eyes blazing with malice. "Honor? You speak to me of honor, Trickster? You, who is known for weaving your deceitful webs at every turn?"

The god's only response was a sneer of his own as their blades clashed together. Their feet moved across the floor in a fluid, deadly dance. He parried her blows with one of his daggers while he struck with the other, aiming for her weak points— her stomach, her heart, her neck. She was more skilled in dueling than he expected and he only managed to get in a glancing blow off her arm.

Loki's heart raced as he engaged in combat with Herja, his mind focused solely on protecting Eleanora. With each clash of their blades, he could feel the intensity of Herja's fury, matched only by his own determination to keep Eleanora safe. He knew that he had to take care of her quickly or they'd both be in grave danger. With a swift twist of his wrist, he aimed a low sweep at her legs, intending to knock her off balance. But Herja was quick to counter, leaping back with surprising agility.

Their swords clashed again and again, the sound of metal ringing through the air. Loki could feel the strain in his muscles as he fought to keep up with Herja's relentless assault. He couldn't afford to let his guard down for even a moment.

As they circled each other, Loki seized an opportunity. With a feint to the left, he baited Herja into overextending herself. In that split second, he lunged forward, aiming to disarm her with a swift strike to her wrist.

But Herja was not so easily fooled. With a snarl of rage, she anticipated his move and deflected his blade with lightning speed. Before Loki could react, she launched a vicious counterattack, aiming straight for his heart.

Instinct took over as Loki twisted out of the path of her blade, narrowly avoiding a fatal blow. But in doing so, he left himself momentarily vulnerable. Herja seized the opportunity, her knife flashing in the dim light of the chamber as she aimed to strike him down.

With a surge of adrenaline, the god managed to regain his footing just in time. In a desperate bid to turn the tide, he summoned all his strength and pushed forward, driving Herja back with the force of his onslaught.

For a moment, they stood locked in a deadly embrace, their swords locked together as the witch was trapped against the table. Eleanora let out a startled shriek as the woman's body slammed against the side and she lost her grip on the buckle that she was trying to undo. The witch leaned backwards, away from certain death even as she pressed her blade towards him. But then, with a sudden burst of energy, Loki managed to break free. With a deft flick of his wrist, he sent Herja's sword flying from her grasp, leaving her defenseless before him.

Cowering— or pretending to— Herja held up her hands and shrank against the solid support behind her. She adopted a look of utter defeat, even going so far as to hang her head. "Youth. Beauty. It all seems meaningless now. My sisters are dead! Everything I cared about. . . gone. Go. Go!"

The god, of course, did not trust the act for a second (though he wasn't surprised to see Eleanora's expression soften with sympathy at the sound of the woman's loud cries.) Still, he used her 'surrender' to free the blonde completely. He handed her one dagger while he kept the other in his free hand. He offered his other hand to the girl to help her off the table.

She took it gratefully and swung her legs down to stand firmly on the ground. He gently guided her towards the stairs. "Go— my brother will protect you."

The Star turned to him in alarm. "I'm not leaving here without you!"

"I'll be alright," he told her, trying to ignore how his heart skipped a beat in his chest at her loyalty. Now was definitely not the time.

Eleanora shook her head stubbornly. "No. We either leave here together or not at all. This is my fight as much as it is yours."

He bit back a groan at her adamancy. Her gray eyes flashed with determination as she tilted her head to meet his gaze. The dagger he'd given her was clutched firmly in her hand— even though he winced at the terrible form she had. He put weaponry training on the top of his priorities to begin teaching her as soon as he could. Still, he knew that her unwavering commitment would bring them to an impasse. So, he sighed and allowed her to lead them down the stairs together, all while keeping a suspicious eye out for any antics that the witch planned to pull.

They hadn't even gotten to where his brother was standing by the doors when they slammed shut with the witch's magic. Her maniacal laughs echoed around the otherwise silent space as she cut off their escape. The shutters on the windows followed next, each one thudding down in a domino effect. Loki took Eleanora by the arm to bring her to where Thor and the brunette were standing, the latter appearing terrified as opposed to his brother's forbidding resolve. He tossed Mjolnir uneasily in his hand as he prepared for the worst.

"I owe you thanks, boy. What use was her heart to me when it was broken? And you got rid of my sisters, and now I can have it all for myself," Herja gloated as she stalked towards them. Her obsidian blade was held high, her malevolent eyes focused on Eleanora.

"Brother," Thor began in a low voice, "I must insist that you let me interfere now."

But, to everyone's surprise, it was not Loki who refused him. Eleanora spoke in a soft, commanding voice that was so unlike her usual demeanor. "No. This is our fight. Everyone, hold on to me and close your eyes."

Loki turned, bemused. "What? Why?"

She smiled at him, her expression free from the fear that she had felt so potently throughout the day. The blonde held out her hand to her prince, who took it despite his confusion. Thor laid a warm, heavy hand on her shoulder. The brunette wrapped her fingers around Eleanora's arm. Still, she only had eyes for the god as she asked, "what do stars do best? Shine."

After making sure that everyone had closed their eyes, Eleanora allowed light to pour forth. The room erupted into blinding brilliance as she unleashed the full force of her power. A stunning radiance emanated from her, casting long, stark shadows across the chamber. Herja's wicked laughter faltered as she shielded her eyes, momentarily shocked by the sheer intensity of the light.

Thor, Loki, and the woman clung to Eleanora as her luminous aura enveloped them, feeling the warmth and power  that coursed through her. The brunette, who had been trembling with fear, now found solace in Eleanora's radiant presence, a newfound courage blossoming within her. As the light intensified, Herja's form began to waver, her dark silhouette flickering like a dying flame against the brilliance of the Star's illumination.

Eleanora unleashed a surge of light so intense that it consumed the witch entirely. She let out a piercing scream before she was engulfed in a blinding explosion of pure, splendent energy. And then, as quickly as it had begun, the light faded, leaving behind nothing but silence. Eleanora stood at the center of the chamber, her form radiant and unscathed, a beacon of hope amidst the darkness.

Loki could only stare in wonderment at the woman beside him, her beauty transcending that of anyone he had ever known. She was not just his beloved, but a force of nature unto herself. And all along he'd thought that she was just a helpless Star. "Why didn't you do that earlier?" he wondered with an awed breath.

Her smile remained even as the radiance faded to her normal silvery glow. "I couldn't have done that without you. No star can shine with a broken heart. I thought I'd lost you. But you came back."

His expression softened, and when Thor and the brunette released her, he moved forward to tenderly cup his face in her hands. "Of course I did. It's you and me, until the end."

As Loki's hands gently caressed Eleanora's face, he felt an overwhelming rush of emotions flooding his being. He had never felt so connected to another soul, so utterly captivated by someone's essence. In that moment, nothing else existed for him but the woman before him, his Eleanora, his Star.

The blonde leaned forward, closing the distance between them until their lips met in a fervent kiss. Her hands rested on his chest and she could feel the smoothness of his leathers beneath her palms, grounding her to the moment. She knew that her starshine must be blinding as a tidal wave of joy flooded through her. Even Thor— who'd had his fair share of romances and was quite familiar with the heat of lust after a battle— had to look away from the passion that his brother embraced the Star with.

While Thor was happy that their battle with the witches had an outcome in their favor, he couldn't help the sense of foreboding that came over him. His father's words echoed in his mind: the Star is useful, certainly, but it is not Asgardian. It only appears to be humanoid so our minds can comprehend its power. Should either of you ever encounter a Star in your lifetimes, you must keep this in mind. He'd gone on to say that it was a trophy, at best— a prize to flaunt before the other realms as a showcase of Asgard's power and might.

Loki was smarter than this. He should know that the Star could never return any emotion he might feel for it. It would soon be under their father's protection, fulfilling its duty to serve Asgard's needs. Unless. . . his mind worked quickly to come up with another explanation for his brother's actions. Loki could be lying to the Star, convincing it that they had a bond in order to lure it to the palace. Yes, Thor decided, that was much more Loki-like behavior. If that were the case, then his brother would win their father's challenge since the Star seemed to hang on to every word he said.

He cleared his throat, causing the two to pull a part. Loki pinned him with a 'do you mind?' look. "Yes?"

"Brother, I should like to speak with you. . ." He glanced at the Star. "Privately."

He saw the younger prince's jaw tighten in displeasure, but after squeezing the Star's hand reassuringly, he stepped away from it to join him. The Star went over to the brunette and began to converse with her quietly as Thor lead his brother farther away from the pair. "Yes?" Loki asked again, tersely.

Thor kept his eyes on the Star to make sure it had no plans of escaping as he broached the subject, though he had none of Loki's subtlety— that had never been his strong suit. "What are your plans with the Star when it is brought before our father?"

The blond missed the way his brother stiffened at his use of pronouns— or lack thereof— when regarding Eleanora, treating her as if she were an object. Loki hid it well, as he always did, and his impassive expression didn't give anything away. "What else, besides give our father what he has asked for?"

The dark-haired god made a pointed effort to not refer to Eleanora at all, thus refusing to give in to Asgard's history of objectifying Stars, but also not giving away his true feelings on the subject. This, of course, went unnoticed by the other god, who merely frowned at his vague answer. "I know you, brother. There is always more to your plans than meets the eye."

"Well spotted, brother," Loki said, amused. "I must say, I'm impressed; I was not sure if there was anything under that head of hair of yours. It appears you are not entirely without brains."

Thor raised an eyebrow at the man's jab, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "I may not possess your cunning, brother, but I do have my moments of clarity. My concern for the Star's fate is one such moment. We must honor our father's decision."

"Certainly," he agreed smoothly. "We will go to the palace at once to inform our father of our success. I have nothing untoward planned."

Of course, he did not include to whom he had nothing untoward planned. He had no ill wishes for Eleanora— just the opposite, actually. His father, however, was another matter entirely. In the background of their current conversation, his mind was still spinning strategies 1, 2, 3, et cetera should their main plot fail. There was a way that everything would work out, even if it wasn't the best-case scenario. He just had to buy enough time to come up with it. So, he continued, "why don't you locate your friends? I've heard that they are somewhere in the city, surely nursing their egos for failing so miserably. We can all meet at the palace gates before the day's end."

To his credit, Thor did not immediately take the bait. "And leave you unattended with the Star?"

"I assure you, brother, we will be there when it is time," he promised, laying a hand to his heart in a gesture of sincerity. "In fact, I'm sure the lovely maiden we've also discovered would like to be returned to her home with a hero on her arm." He indicated the brunette, who was still talking to Eleanora. After all, Thor could never resist a damsel in distress.

As expected, his brother let out a reluctant sigh as he admitted defeat, though he held Loki with an unusually stern, blue-eyed stare— it was a laughable attempt, really; Thor could not be severe even with his best attempt. "Very well. I shall see you at the palace gates before sundown."

Loki inclined his head to concur before the brothers made their way over to the women. "Miss," he began, addressing the brunette, "my brother, Thor, would be happy to take you home, should you give him proper directions."

He was more than a little surprised when was Eleanora who responded with another firm, "no."

"No?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow in question.

"No," she insisted, her voice calm and unruffled even in the face of Asgard's royalty. "If I may, I would like to introduce your highnesses to Princess Freyja of Vanaheim."