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❛ ᴇᴛᴏɪʟᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ɪs
ᴍʏ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ꒱


❝ YOU CALLED ME SISTER ❞

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A S G A R D

Silvery light flared out from Eleanora's hand and snaked through the air towards the target. It slashed through the center, leaving a scorch mark behind. She pulled back on the whip to bring it towards her again as she spun in place, causing the light to wreath around her. Straightening out her stance, she lashed it forward one more time to hit the last target in the row. Then, letting out a deep breath, she closed her eyes and released her hold on the light, letting the celestial shine around her head fade from existence as it sank back beneath her skin.

Turning to look at her mentor, she found Frigga beaming at her from the sidelines and the sorceress clapped her hands proudly. "Your footwork has made leagues of improvement since we've started," she began as she came to stand next to the Star. "Not to mention the control you have on your powers. We still need to work on your reaction time, but having to focus on the finesse of combat only goes to show how far you've come."

"Thank you, Frigga," Eleanora replied, wearing a similarly happy expression. She could feel the exertion of her training in the sweat that clung to her skin, but even that in itself was its own reward.

"You're becoming a formidable warrior, Eleanora. With dedication and discipline like yours, you will yet rival my son's abilities," the Allmother stated confidently.

A part of her faltered at that specific praise, for two reasons. The first was that she did not want to become a warrior; that was not her glorious purpose as it had been Aðalbjörg's. She had agreed to the training sessions because Odin wouldn't give her a choice and that it was important to control her power but not to use it for war, if she could help it. She was not a savior; she was to be a beacon, a guiding light— just like her name implied.

The second reason for her dissatisfaction with Frigga's compliment was in regards to the mention of her son. While Eleanora's love for Loki— for that was whom the Allmother meant— had not changed or diminished, she was reminded of the fact that he had not said the words back to her. A part of her was afraid that she had placed too much importance of her position in his life. After all, their marriage had been one of convenience. And yes, while he certainly did seem to care about her, that was not the same as loving her.

She had been pondering what she meant to him since that day on Alfheim and seeds of doubt had begun to take root in her mind. He had never been an overly sentimental person, she knew, but surely saying I love you was not too much of a stretch for him, if he truly meant the words? So, she had to assume that he did not feel the same way about her as she did him. That didn't alter how Eleanora acted around him on a daily basis, though, and did her best to hide these thoughts; she was quite certain he would mock her insecurities.

As if sensing her worries, Frigga cast her a curious look. "What ails you, daughter?"

The blonde startled at the title the queen addressed her with, but then her expression softened with appreciation. As much as her heart was in turmoil because of the youngest prince, it was set at ease with the Allmother's kindness. So, she decided to tell the truth— or some of it, at least. "Loki. He. . . seems like such a different person when we're away from Asgard, but that is perhaps because I see more of him. When he's home, all he does is hide away in the library to read, only venturing out at night. Don't get me wrong," she added hastily, "I understand and appreciate his interests, but he can be. . ."

"Obsessive?" Frigga offered, the twinkle of amusement in her eyes reminding Eleanora strongly of the god in question. "Yes, he does have that tendency— enough to make a mother worry. But I have found something to ease that concern. He often forgets to eat when surrounded by his books so I have taken to delivering meals as an excuse to see him. Perhaps he would enjoy a visit from his wife instead."

The Star's eyes widened a little at the queen's implication and she shook her head. "I couldn't. I mean, I don't want to take away the time that you have with him. I could find something else—"

"Eleanora," the Allmother interrupted her warmly, "I don't mind; that's why I offered it as a solution. I can see that you care for him as much as I do— though in a different way, of course. There are very few people who keep his genuine well-being in mind, you know. He would be happy to know how much he means to you."

At that, Eleanora couldn't hide the sadness that crossed her features. "I don't think it would matter to him. In fact, I know it."

Frigga gently grasped the other woman's arm to catch her attention. "What happened? What's he done this time?"

So, she told the queen about her confession on Alfheim, her eyes downcast as she remembered her embarrassment. "He didn't say anything back," she finished dismally.

The goddess sighed, an expression of exasperation appearing on her face. "For all the natural talents that my son has, his weaknesses are only increased tenfold. I would be the first to say that he's as emotionally constipated as they come."

Frigga smiled a little at the blonde's shocked look, surprised to hear the queen talk that way about her son. She chuckled at Eleanora's reaction. "Oh, don't be so surprised, daughter. I may be his mother but that doesn't mean I don't see his flaws. Loki has always struggled with expressing his true feelings, especially when it comes to matters of the heart."

The Star nodded, feeling a little reassured by the Allmother's understanding. "I just wish he would open up to me more. We're supposed to be partners and it's hard to be there for him when it feels like. . . I'm less important to him than he is to me."

The queen nodded sympathetically. "Sometimes, patience and understanding are the only way to reach people. Keep showing him your love and support and eventually, he will come to realize how much you mean to him. Now, shall I give you some suggestions on what to include in the meal that you bring to him?"

✧ ✧ ✧

Despite everything, Eleanora was still excited to see Loki as she brought him a plate of the suggested food. It was a rare treat to see him in the middle of the day and she was looking forward to surprising him. As she walked through the ornate, gilded halls of the palace, she let the muted conversations of the servants and soldiers pass through her ears. She saw a knot of female courtiers down the hall to the library and recognized a few faces, though she knew none by name. They were all around the same age as she was, dressed in the most recent Asgardian fashions. When she neared, she could hear them giggling to each other and she slowed to listen to what they were saying.

". . .can you believe it? A Star as a prince's wife? It's just not. . . traditional."

Ducking behind the nearest pillar, the blonde felt her heart sink as they continued to gossip. "I know, right? It's so out of place here."

"I heard that the Allfather refused to marry them. They had to get a Vanir to do it," another spoke in a hushed whisper. "Their union is barely legal as it is!"

"Can you believe it thinks it's worthy of Prince Loki?"

"It's probably just using its charms to seduce him," another courtier added, her voice dripping with disdain. "As if someone like it could ever truly capture his heart."

"If he even has one," came the answering snigger. The women erupted into laughter, unaware that Eleanora was within earshot. She felt a pang of hurt at their words but reminded herself to stay composed.

Unable to listen to any more— as they confirmed her fears more than they realized— she continued onwards, the plate of food grasped tightly in her trembling hands. You know he has a heart, she chided herself, a little disgusted that she could let such shallow words get to her. But even as she told herself this, the conversation only served to water the seeds of uncertainty.

When she arrived at the library, Eleanora hesitated outside of the massive doors. Maybe he doesn't want to see me, the doubt continued. Maybe my interruption won't be an enjoyable respite but an annoying distraction— just like how he's always complaining about Thor. She swallowed against her unexpected nerves. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, the Star pushed open the heavy doors and stepped into the library. The scent of ancient tomes and polished wood greeted her, a familiar comfort amidst her confusion.

Loki sat in his favorite armchair by the fireplace, engrossed in a thick volume as his long fingers delicately turned the pages. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he read. Eleanora's heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, feeling the pull of love that was always there whenever he was nearby.

She approached him quietly, not wanting to startle him. Setting the plate of food on a nearby table, she took a moment to simply admire him, the way the firelight danced across his features, casting shadows and highlights in equal measure. With a heavy heart, Eleanora made a decision. She turned on her heel and began to retreat, her footsteps silent on the plush carpet. If Loki wanted to see her, he would seek her out. She wouldn't force herself upon him, not when she felt so unsure of herself.

As she turned to leave, Loki managed to glance up just in time, half-expecting to see his mother and thank her for the food. But when he did look, he saw the flash of emerald green skirt disappearing into the many aisles of the library. His heart skipped a beat at the sight and he couldn't help but be disappointed that she hadn't stayed.

After all, there was only one person in the palace who was permitted to wear his colors.

✧ ✧ ✧

"Darling," the prince said later that evening in his chambers, once he'd extracted himself from his books. He tugged his wife close so he could wrap his arms around her. "I wanted to thank you for the food you brought earlier."

Surprise appeared briefly on the blonde's face before she quickly schooled her features. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

Amused, he leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers and brush their noses together. He lowered his voice so that its timbre made her shiver. "You cannot lie to the God of Lies, my wife. I know it was you in the library."

Deciding not to fight him on this, Eleanora sighed and relented. "Yes, it was me."

"Why didn't you stay?" Loki sounded so petulant that she couldn't help but smile.

"I didn't want to disturb you," she admitted, which was the truth— at least partly.

"Disturb me? Darling, you could never disturb me," he reassured her, pressing a kiss to her the top of her head. "Next time, just come sit with me."

✧ ✧ ✧

A few days later, Eleanora had finished her weapon training session with Loki and went to the armory to return the daggers she had borrowed. There, she came across a fellow female warrior whom she wasn't expecting. Upon seeing the brunette's tall, lithe frame, she broke into a beaming smile. "Sif, hello!"

Sif, who had never been particularly fond of her, barely glanced her way as she focused on sharpening her sword. "That would be Lady Sif to you, Star," she returned coldly.

The blonde's bright expression faltered at the formal rejoinder. She had always tried to be pleasant to Thor's and Loki's friends, even if they continued to view her as less-than-Asgardian. Fandral, Volstagg and Hogun at least treated her with respect but it seemed like she could never win with Sif. If she was too proper, Sif would scoff and glare at her, like Eleanora was trying to be better than everyone (which she wasn't.) If she was familiar, the brunette would scold her for being friends when they clearly weren't. In the end, Eleanora decided it was best to say as little as possible to the fire-y warrior.

"Of course," she allowed, bowing her head slightly. "My apologies, Lady Sif."

That earned her the expected scoff in return as Sif sheathed her sword and stood up in one graceful motion. She was truly a formidable warrior— more so than Eleanora would ever be, no matter what Frigga claimed. She had the beauty to match her strength, with sharp, brown eyes, high cheekbones and sheet of shiny, long brown hair. Said hair was currently braided tightly down her back, giving her an extra severe look. Her armor gleamed, even in the dim light. She towered over Eleanora's shorter, slenderer frame, and in the shadowy space of the armory it lent her an even fiercer appearance.

The brunette narrowed her eyes, her gaze piercing through Eleanora as if she could see straight into her thoughts. "You have gotten comfortable with your place among us," she commented evenly, only the faintest of sneers in her tone. "If I were you, I would remember to keep your guard up. If the Allfather ever decides to change his mind about the validity of your marriage to his son. . . well, let us hope it doesn't come to that."

The Star felt a chill run down her spine and she took a step back from Sif's towering presence. "Why do you have a problem with me?" she asked, struggling to find enough courage for her voice not to shake. "No one else does. Fandral, Volstagg, even Thor—"

"They are men, Star, and blind to the guiles of other women. I am not. I see what you are, and that is nothing more than a mere weapon. They are foolish enough to think otherwise."

"I-I'm not just a weapon," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I love Loki. Our marriage may have started as an arrangement of convenience but it has grown into something more."

Sif's expression remained impassive, unmoved by her words. "Love?" she echoed derisively. "Do not delude yourself, Star. Loki is not capable of love. He is a trickster, a manipulator. And you, you are simply a pawn in his game. He will tire of you eventually, just as he tires of everything else. "

The blonde took another step back, this time hitting the wood of the armory wall. But, rather than it feeling like it was trapping her, she felt emboldened by the reassurance of the solid presence behind her. Although Sif's spoke of everything she was afraid of, she squared her shoulders to meet the brunette's eyes. "You don't know anything about Loki or me," she shot back.

"Don't I?" the warrior asked, her tone taking on a surprisingly sympathetic— if not patronizing— tone. She leaned forward so that her brown eyes were all that Eleanora could see. "I was you; you know. I used to be in your place— it never got as far as marriage, thank the gods," she added with a laugh at the other woman's shocked expression, "but I was his first. . . well, everything," she finished with a smirk.

Eleanora's heart sank as Sif's words hit her like a punch to the gut. She struggled to process what the other woman was saying, hurt that Loki had never even thought to tell her of something like this. She had figured that he had been with other people, certainly— she was fine with that, since it had never amounted to anything more. But with what Sif was telling her. . . the realization left her feeling betrayed and insecure.

"I don't believe you," the Star countered in what was admittedly not her brightest retort. "He would have told me. I know he would have."

The brunette's expression softened, though the hint of disdain in her eyes marred it. "It was a long time ago, before I knew what he truly was," she explained. "But I learned my lesson, and now I'm trying to protect you from making the same mistake I did."

Eleanora shook her head. "I don't need your protection," she said, her voice growing stronger with determination. "I love Loki, and I believe in him. Whatever may have happened between you two in the past doesn't change that."

Sif sighed, her gaze softening with something akin to pity. "You're just like I was," she said quietly. "Blinded by love and unable to see the truth until it's too late."

With that, the warrior turned and left the Star standing alone in the armory. As she was often experiencing these days, Eleanora felt the turmoil of emotions churning within her: doubt, self-doubt, confusion, sadness, and hope. Walking out of the building, the bright sunlight blinded her for a moment and she screwed her eyes up against it until she adjusted to its sharpness.

Once she had, she let out a yell of frustration and summoned her source, allowing silver light to burst into existence around her frame. She threw her fist towards the wall of the building to shoot a blast of light towards the wood, wanting to release some of her pent-up emotions. It left a scorch mark on the side of the building as the light fizzled away to nothing.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side, my lady," a new voice spoke up, the playful lilt in the man's tone leagues different than Sif's condescending one.

Eleanora turned to see the crown prince approaching her. She blushed a little in embarrassment that she'd lost her temper in front of him. "Sorry. I'll repair it—"

"There's no need to worry about that," Thor said with an airy wave of his hand. His bright blue eyes gleamed at her in amusement as he wore his trademark toothy smile. He came to a stop next to her and eyed the burn curiously. "If I may ask, what has irked you so that you feel the need to beat up our armory?"

"It's nothing," the Star brushed him off quickly with a shake of her head.

But Thor had been dealing with Loki's easy lies for as long as he'd been alive and he knew better— after many, many lessons where he'd mistakenly took the words at face value— than to accept the excuse. His normally cheerful countenance became serious as he frowned in concern. He placed a large, warm hand gently on her shoulder. "What ails you, sister?"

At that, Eleanora jerked her eyes up to meet his, her mouth parting a bit in shock. ". . . What did you just say?"

The prince's frown deepened. "Was. . . that not the right question to ask? I am not very good with emotional conversations, but—"

"No, no, not that," she cut across him quickly, her stunned mind taking a minute to catch up. "I mean. . . you called me sister."

"Would you not like me to?" he asked, looking unexpectedly disappointed at the thought.

"No!" the blonde replied quickly— a little too quickly, and at his fallen expression, she changed her tone to repeat the word more brightly: "no, that's not it. I just. . . you've always been respectful of me, which I appreciate, but it's always been because you saw me as a Star, not because. . . because. . ." she trailed off, unable to explain the importance of the change.

Thankfully, Thor brightened once more as he gave her a gleaming smile. "Ah, I understand. Well, it's true that I agreed with my father initially about your status, but over these few years I have seen that you are more than just a weapon. You are powerful, certainly, but you feel too, especially for my brother. I cannot say how much you have changed him for the better already; it has been quite awhile since he desired to turn any of our friends into snakes."

She let out a slightly watery laugh, touched by his answer. Before she could fully think it through, she threw her arms around the prince. He was so muscular— not to mention the additional weight of his armor— that she could not hug him fully. Though admittedly a little surprised, he welcomed the hug just the same, responding a bit too eagerly as he all but crushed her bones with his strength.

When he released her, setting her back on her feet carefully, he squeezed her shoulders happily. "You are much better at hugging than Loki is; he always complained when I tried."

Eleanora rubbed her bruised ribs gingerly, though she gave him a genuine smile in return. "Yeah, I can see why. Thanks, Thor. That. . . means a lot."

He pointed at her sternly. "But this doesn't mean you're getting out of telling me what's wrong. As a prince of Asgard, it is my duty to make sure my subjects— especially my sister— are well looked after."

✧ ✧ ✧

"Brother!" Thor exclaimed cheerfully as he nearly pounced on Loki in the hall later that afternoon. He slung a heavy arm around the other man's shoulders, causing him to grunt in annoyance.

The dark-haired prince made a (failed) attempt to shove the weight off of him. "Ugh, Thor, how many times have I told you not to touch me after you've been training all day? Your sweat will stain my clothes."

The blond rolled his eyes and kept his arm in place despite his brother's complaining. "I've lost track over the years. Anyway, I wanted to talk."

"We can do that just as well without you putting your stink all over me," he grumbled. "What about?"

"Eleanora—" he began, but got no further as Loki's grouchy acceptance turned into sharp concern.

He whirled on Thor, knocking the god's arm from his shoulders effortlessly (aided, in part, by his seiðr.) "What's wrong? Did something happen to her?"

Thor lifted his hand placatingly. "At ease, brother. She is fine, physically. It is her emotional well-being that I would like to discuss with you."

Loki relaxed marginally, relieved that his wife was not in immediate trouble. He resumed walking next to his brother. "Alright. What is so significant that she cannot speak directly to me about it?"

"Well, as you know, you're emotionally constipated—"

"I am not!" he exclaimed indignantly. At Thor's piercing look, he huffed, "fine, carry on."

"—and Eleanora has tried to talk about her feelings with you before, but with little success. It appears that you are so incompetent—"

"Are these insults really necessary?"

The blond merely grinned at him infuriatingly. "Only to help you see your flaws, brother. Anyway," he continued, more somberly, "she told me about what happened while you were on Niflheim, the courtiers, and Sif. . ."

It took Loki a second for him to piece his brother's words together; by Niflheim, he clearly meant Alfheim—he was pleased that Eleanora was apparently good at not slipping up when keeping a secret— and then realized Thor was referring to when his wife had confessed her love for him. Then, the next part of the sentence dawned on him, and his eyes narrowed furiously. "Sif? What does she have to do with this?"

Thor faltered momentarily, wishing he hadn't mentioned a specific name. "That's not the important part, brother. Your wife told you she loved you, and you said nothing. Perhaps your Silver-tongue is now made of lead."

As loath as he was to admit it, his brother was right; Sif could wait a minute longer as he tried to see how she was connected to all this. "You would not understand, brother, for you have never been in a committed relationship."

"I do not need to have such a relationship to see how much Eleanora loves you." The blond regarded him silently before he spoke again. "Did you not say anything because you do not feel the same?"

"I told you that you wouldn't understand," Loki said dismissively.

Thor stopped walking to face him squarely, nearly causing the dark-haired prince to run into him. "I may not have experienced love in the same way as you, but I know that when someone confesses their feelings, it is not something to be taken lightly. I know you care for her, so why are you holding back?"

"Because I don't know what love is!" Loki burst out finally. He rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I would rather not lie to her about something like this, so I opted to say nothing at all."

"Would you do anything for her?"

Caught off guard, his brows furrowed in confusion as he asked, "what?"

The blond just met his gaze evenly. "Answer the question."

"Well, of course."

"Would you ensure her happiness above your own?"

"Yes."

"Would you give your life in exchange for hers?"

"Without hesitation."

Thor nodded at his response. "I think you have your answer, then."

Loki's mind raced as his brother's words sank in. Could it be true? Could his actions and feelings toward Eleanora really be signs of love? He had always thought of love as a weakness, something to be avoided at all costs. But now, faced with Thor's questions, he couldn't deny the it any longer.

As they continued walking, he felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Maybe he didn't fully understand what love was supposed to feel like, but he knew one thing for certain: he cared deeply for Eleanora, more than he had ever cared for anyone else. And perhaps, just perhaps, that was enough. And from that care came concern— he hadn't forgotten the rest of what Thor had started telling him earlier.

Grabbing his brother's arm, the look in his blue-green eyes intensified as he demanded, "what was it you were saying about Sif?"

So, reluctantly, Thor told him everything that Eleanora had, including Sif's conversation with her in the armory. As he spoke, he watched the god's gaze narrow as his features contorted with anger. Loki didn't give a damn that Sif was one of his brother's closest friends; she had no right to go meddling around in his relationships, especially since she had chosen Thor over him. Even his brother knew to be wary of him when his expression so clearly vowed revenge.

After all, Sif had threatened someone that was precious to him, so he would take away something that was precious to her.

✧ ✧ ✧

It did not take long for Loki's actions to come back to bite him— not that he regretted them when they did; in his opinion, Sif had always needed to be taken down a peg. He'd been returning to his room for the night, looking forward to spending some. . . quality time with his wife. Lost in thought about what he'd like to do to— or with— her this evening, he hadn't noticed the brunette warrior until her seething words reached his ears.

"You," she snarled, holding up a piece of her shredded hair in one hand. He couldn't help but smirk at the sigh of her half-shaved head. One side still had her long, beautiful locks that she so prized, but the other was raggedly shorn close to her scalp— thanks to a rather useful cutting spell he'd learned. "You conniving, craven, pathetic worm."

She stalked towards him, still gripping the strands of her hair tightly. "I hope you know you deserve to be alone and you always will be."

Just as he opened his mouth to retort that he was the one who was married, all words vanished from his thoughts as pain exploded between his legs. He dropped to the ground, a little stunned that Sif had gone that far. The god saw her fist coming towards his face but, already weakened, there was little he could do to stop it. As he was bracing himself for the hit that would surely send him sprawling to the floor, there was a shout that made his eyes fly open.

Eleanora had been heading back to their room as well, taking the same path that her husband had. As soon as she'd seen Loki on the ground, concern had instantly welled up inside of her. But then she'd seen Sif, and that concern had turned into rage. Not wasting a single second, she strode across the hall to place herself between them as silvery light burst into life to swirl around her being.

Just as Sif was thrusting her fist forward, the blonde caught her hand to keep it from connecting to her husband's face. "Leave him alone!"

She didn't feel the need to control her powers as she let the blast of light detonate, sending the warrior flying backwards. Even as he was still reeling from the pain that Sif had inflicted upon him, Loki could only admire how gloriously beautiful his wife was in all of her righteous fury. Starshine wreathed around her as she stood with her back to him, watching as Sif got to her feet with a grunt.

The brunette glared at the other woman and jabbed a finger towards her head. "Look what he's done to me! You dare take his side when this is the least he deserves?"

Eleanora scoffed, her previous fear and compliance towards the warrior disappearing. "It's just hair. It'll grow back. It doesn't give you the right to take justice into your own hands and resort to violence."

The Star seemed to glow even brighter, if possible. Her light filled the hall until it dimmed even the most blazing sconces. With all of her knowledge of battle strategy, Sif knew when she was facing a fight she couldn't win. She cast the dark-haired prince a final, disgusted look before she backed out of the room. Neither of them saw the slightly uneasy look the brunette sent Eleanora upon her departure.

Loki expected his wife to return to her normal state and dissolve the light around her like she usually did. But she kept shining intensely, as if she were trying to revert back to her celestial form. Starting to become worried, he stood despite the lingering discomfort, hoping that this would prove to her that there was no lasting damage and she had protected him sufficiently. The only thing she did at his movement, though, was turn to face him.

She was now so brilliant it was hard to look directly at her, her humanoid being lost in the light. Her only distinguishable feature were her eyes, which had become a solid silvery-white. Though he was shocked by the display of power— she had always seemed to have it under control— concern and fear (for her, not of her) were his most prevalent emotions.

As a species more connect to the cosmos, her seiðr was different from what he was familiar with, so he wasn't sure if the techniques he thought of to pull her back would work. So, Loki did the next best thing— which wasn't necessarily his smartest move. Squinting against her light, he reached into it. While he'd anticipated that it might be unbearably hot or even scorching, he was pleasantly surprised to find that it was a gentle warmth, like putting one's hands over a campfire. He placed his hand on what he guessed was her shoulder, though it was hard to tell as the edges of her being blended into her light.

When his fingers brushed against her skin, he was startled to find the heat that he'd been expecting— as if she were burning from the inside out. Then, he remembered the horrible end to the previous Star that Eleanora's sisters had told him: when [Odin] had conquered the last of the Nine Realms, he let her burn herself out as she was no longer of use to him. He had become afraid of the power she possessed— the power he gave her. He left her to rot on the battlefield, a disgraced soldier instead an honored hero.

His stomach turned and he felt sick; he'd sworn that he would give Eleanora a better life than her than her fallen sister, but if he didn't do something, and soon, it looked like this would be the one betrayal that he had never planned on. Though his voice threatened to crack from the distress he felt for her, Loki spoke as clearly as he could to the woman within the light. "Eleanora, please listen to me. I know you're in there, and I know you got into this state because you wanted to protect me. You have; now it's my turn to protect you. I'm here with you, and I'm not going anywhere."

Eleanora's eyes flickered slightly, as if acknowledging his words, but the intensity of the light didn't diminish. Loki felt a pang of desperation. He couldn't lose her, not like this. He paused, trying to gather his thoughts amongst the overwhelming glow surrounding her.

"I love you, Eleanora," he continued, his voice unwavering now, fueled by his sincerity. "I love you more than anything in this world or any other. Please, let me help you. Let me be there for you."

He hoped his words would reach her, pierce through the brilliant light surrounding her and touch the woman he knew was still there. He had never been one for grand declarations of love but in this moment, he would do anything to save her from herself. For a moment, there was silence, and Loki feared the worst. But then, slowly, the light began to dim, and Eleanora's form became visible once more. The intense glow around her faded, drawing back into her until it returned to her source once more.

Exhausted from the use of so much power, she stumbled slightly before he caught her. They sank onto the ground, the blonde half in his lap— not that he was complaining. Her skin felt troublingly hot to the touch, but even that was cooling (still slower than he would have liked.) Shifting a little in his arms, Eleanora glanced up at the god. Her voice was faint when she spoke, the fatigue obvious in her tone. "Did you really mean it? That you loved me?"

"Of course, darling," he said immediately. He added with a wry smile, "if you would believe it, Thor's the one who helped me realize it. He's actually pretty smart about that sort of thing— and here I was thinking that he didn't have two braincells to rub together."

That earned him a weak laugh, which is what he'd been hoping for. Still, the Star's brief happiness faltered as she fisted her hand against his chest. "You're. . . not afraid. . . of me?"

"Never, my love," Loki promised. "It's you and me until the end, remember?"

She smiled at the new endearment he used, quite enjoying the sound of it. Lifting herself up enough to close the distance between them, she placed a soft kiss on his lips, only pulling away to reply, "me and you, until the end."

Determining that they'd had enough excitement for one night, he scooped his wife up bridal-style and carried her back to their room despite her blushing, half-hearted protests of being transported this way. The prince ordered the servants to draw up a bath and bring them glasses of wine, content to never think about this night again— with the exception of ensuring Eleanora wouldn't burn herself out in an untimely death. The Star, on her part, decided that it didn't matter what had happened in the past or what Sif or the other courtiers had to say: she knew her place, and that was right next to Loki.

A/n: so, I haven't decided if I'm going to write Loki/Eleanora for the Loki TV series yet since I do already have a Loki/oc book that I've written, but I did get the last scenes from the time loop that Mobius put Loki into in S1. If I do write for the TV series, it will be very angsty :) In fact, besides the next chapter, the rest of Loki/Eleanora's story will be extremely heart wrenching :) As much as I love writing fluff for these two (and will miss it) I'm looking forward to the MCU content.

I also can't wait to write more of Thor/Eleanora's relationship since they're very much both sunshine/golden retriever vibes to Loki's grumpy/black cat. Let's just say that Infinity War (when I finally get around to writing it) will be very tragic all around *evil villain laugh*

Anyway, I did want to mention that I didn't really start out by intending to make jealousy Sif's sole character trait— and I still don't— but I wanted to find a way to justify her behavior in Thor: The Dark World where she suddenly acts sulky and jealous because of Jane. The writers kind of just threw that in there so I thought it would be better to give her a history of those feelings instead. By the end of the book, Sif and Eleanora will be more like frenemies rather than unrequited enemies.