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snowflakesnsundry · 22 days

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Hello my darling Dustbunnies!~

So I meant to put out a chapter tonight, but I have completely changed my mind on how I want to go about accomplishing the goal ive set for this chapter. Still, I didn’t want to go without posting something, so please enjoy (most of) an alternate version of chapter 112 (113 on AO3)

Chapter 112 A: Untitled

When sunset came, its colors painted the sky as vibrant as the flowers in the garden around you. Each delicate shift of the breeze rippled across the treetops, making the grasses sway like they had been caught in a dance. Although the sun had begun to vanish, its heat still warmed the steppingstones beneath your bare feet; and drawing the scent from flower and stone alike.

And all of it fell dull and lifeless upon your senses.

The sun had been high in the sky when you had begun to wander the royal gardens and had long since sapped from you what little energy the argument had not. Your shoes had long since been abandoned-though you could not remember where- and the sweat against your skin, having saturated your clothes, began to chill with the slowly dropping temperatures.

You were fairly sure you must look absolutely mad-but you hadn’t the presence of mind to care.

Every last bit of your focus had been consumed by the endless stream of memories you were playing over and over in your mind; willingly drowning in the ache that plagued your chest. Early on all you had felt was anger-certain you would move past it with time. After all, hadn’t he told you himself that his mind and heart had changed? Had he not shown that to be true? Yet when you tried to pinpoint the exact moment you had truly caught his eye-you found you could not.

No matter how many times you played those moments over and over, you could not discern the difference between the Loki that had truly loved you, and the one that had only pretended to.

That single thought became a poison in your blood.

Each and every memory began to come into question-your mind swinging wildly from the hope that, unbeknownst to even himself, he had loved you from the very start; to the fear that you were still trapped in the confines of a game you would never escape.

The grand prize hanging like a noose about your neck.

Clouds painted crimson by the sun held the promise of rain, and you wondered if you would find the courage to step back inside before it fell.

A part of you knew that how he felt was not truly what vexed you- but it was how you felt that wracked your mind.

How easily you had fallen for his charms.

You loved him.

It was as simple as that. You had come to love him in a way so irrevocable that no secret he ever kept would truly scare you away. Not forever. So how many times would this scene play out-how many centuries would pass before you lost your use and he set you free?

The thought of equating separation with freedom stung.

You had adored others before-but you had never loved like this. You had never surrendered so much so willingly, nor felt such fear over what it might mean to have it all back; for, if your old life was returned to you, it would mean having lost him.

Perhaps then this was the price you would pay for what you had done. Your suffering and uncertainty would be the punishment you endured for the shattering of the Loom-something you were increasingly certain had to have been your fault. Together you and Loki were a storm- a storm whose magnitude had destroyed the very path of fate.

It was only right that this was the consequence of giving your heart to chaos itself.

Do not pity yourself, Asgardian.

“I will not take advice from a stone,” you muttered beneath your breath-hardly bothered by the way its thoughts had entered your mind-feeling as natural as your own.

To ignore me would be most unwise.

“A shame then that I disagree.”

Had you checked to see you were alone before speaking out loud to a voice only you could hear?

They all still hide away under your King’s orders.

Ah yes. Likely you were meant to as well-though that did little to deter you.

You pine for something you already possess.

“Do I now?” You replied bitterly, “You’ll have to forgive me for not taking you at your word- I just find it difficult to trust your interpersonal skills.”

I shared his mind once-as I now share yours.

“Is that what you’re doing? ‘Sharing’ my mind?” Oddly, you were more fascinated than alarmed- vaguely remembering some mention that Thor had been seen muttering to himself as of late. It should have been a warning to you that something was deeplywrong.

But it was not.

It is. So long as I remain in your possession, we will remain connected.

You hummed your acknowledgement, mind now lost in the possibilities that sort of contact could offer; though it was hard to avoid the indignity of having your mind invaded without your consent. It left you with a chill down your spine and the sudden urge to tear the pendant from your neck and hurl it into the Asgardian sea.

It would be a waste of what I have to offer.

“And what is it exactly that you have to offer?” Thus far it had been nothing more than trouble. It had saved your life, yes-but you could argue just as easily that it was the catalyst for the sequence of events that had endangered you in the first place.

We share a goal.

“Do we?”

You seek my sisters, same as I.

“Sisters?”

The other stones.

Your teeth clenched as you walked on in silence for a moment-hand drifting across a patch of tall grasses at your side- barely registering as the jagged edges of their blades pulled at your skin. “I do,” you admitted, “Though I cannot fathom why you seek them too.”

We were created as one, and we long to be reunited. It is our nature.

Chewing at your lip, you thought about the changes in Thor as of late-wondering if the Aether too was guiding the King with the same intent. “So what is it you would want from me?”

Continue as you are-seek my sisters and bring them here.

“And in return?”

You were forced to stop dead in your tracks as your vision began to swim- images you would care not to recall filling your mind. Baldur’s face peered at you through the red light that had darkened his face that morning. The look in his eyes as he dangled you over the pit-promising to tend to your father as if that might make up for the sins he was about to commit.

You do not rid yourself of this enemy because you fear facing him without protection.

Nines you hated having this thing inside your mind.

“I do not ‘rid’ myself of my ‘enemy’ because he far outstrips me in every aspect that matters,” you grumbled. “He wields greater authority, and- unsurprisingly- is far more skilled with a blade than I. He has the King’s trust and, so long as things remain as they are, I doubt he could be convinced to remove the captain from his position.”

Do not forget the tools you have at hand.

“Am I to presume you are offering your ‘services’?” You scoffed.

You do not possess the strength to wield me. My power would break you as it has broken others before.

You frowned-your pride a bit worse for wear. “But Loki has that power?”

He and your Vanir Queen are the only two in this realm who could successfully utilize my strengths.

That was no surprise- it only stood to reason that the two most powerful magic users in Asgard would be the ones capable of wielding the might of an Infinity Stone. “Then what ‘tools’ do you suggest I use? I don’t exactly have many at my disposal.”

You are not without wit, are you?

“Wit and words did not exactly save me before. I frankly doubt there are any words in any language that would convince the captain to change his mind about me, or Loki.”

You are correct.

A twinge of irritation caused your lip to curl. “Then what exactly do you suggest I do?”

Quite suddenly, you did not feel yourself. A wave of sensations coursed through you- more complex than just sights and sounds- but feelings; urges.

Ideas.

It was a sort of resolve that was not entirely foreign to you. It was a want to protect not just yourself, but those you loved. It was a want for a clear path to lead you to victory.

A want to remove Baldur from that path-in any way you could.

The idea of severing the man’s head from his body had always been a passing fantasy but- quite suddenly- a seed had planted itself in your mind, winding its way through until its roots could tangle themselves about your heart.

Baldur would die. He had to die.

This… is this me?

So long as he lived, he would try everything to prevent you from acquiring Gram. If you did not acquire Gram, you would never be able to free Thor from the Aether- and if Thor was never freed of the Aether…

Then Asgard will undoubtably fall to the Titan.

For the very first time, what you saw was more than just an image in your mind. The figure that towered above you seemed to be as real and physical as anything else in that garden. Staggering back, you nearly cried out in alarm before you felt a wave of calm shoved onto you.

The clothes he wore did not register as armor until you took in the bracers upon his arms. The plate that adorned his chest stopped short of his arms, leaving them exposed, and the pants he wore seemed little more than heavy cloth. It was a set built for agility more than strength-something he appeared to have in spades. Vein and muscle alike threatened to burst free of his deep purple skin, and you feared a casual wave of his hand would be enough to knock you clear off your feet. Ridges appeared to be carved into his broad chin, his features unmoved by anything about him-even as his eyes seemed to stare straight into your own.

Blue.

“Is this… is he…” Your mouth had gone dry- your mind desperately attempting to process what stood before you, and the fear that a simple projection of the man could provide.

Thanos. The Mad Titan.

“No…no, there…” You looked about frantically, as if you might make eye contact with someone; as if you might find comfort in something. “Is his whole army like him?” If they were…

He is the last of his kind.

Relieving as it was to hear, you knew as well as anyone that a soldier could an army in and of themselves. Over and over tales had been spread of the royal family’s might and-even if wildly exaggerated- they showed how easily a person with power could change the tide of battle.

And this man possessed…

Despite your best efforts, your hands began to tremble.

“How many?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper. “How many stones does he hold?”

Enough.

“Enough to what?”

You knew. You knew exactly what.

He will not hesitate to slay your King, and you, to take what he believes is rightfully his.

“But if the aether and the tesseract are in the hands of those who can wield them?”

Asgard is too small in number to overtake him.

You needed more.

“With more stones we could…”

But to pursue them you must set your King right again.