[ Two flavors of a sword does he see: to herself and to those who would attempt to use her for their own gain (see: himself). Unfortunately, Loki has never been one to aim for the easily or straightforwardly attainable. Such is the mild predicament before him now: take the offered food and maintain status quo or allow her to feed him in the hope that she might fall for the sacrifice of control, slight thought it may be.
With just a beat skipped, he leans forward to take a bite of the bruschetta. Crumbs fall into her palm.
This is a no-brainer. Even a subconscious acknowledgement of the gesture would be a win. ]
[Conversely, for Wanda this is little predicament, only the same way she would offer food to her friends at home. She barely realized what she'd done until Loki leaned forward to let her feed him.
This time, it's different and Wanda flushes noticeably. There's a part of her, a part she cannot fully acknowledge, that desperately craves any sort of intimacy with him.
She can feel her cheeks heating, but her eyes don't leave his face.]
[ Meanwhile, Loki's rather casual about the whole thing. The lift of his brows is the only overt response he makes to her blush -- enough to acknowledge without putting her on the spot. ]
Quite, actually. It's a refreshing change from all the meat we blood-thirsty Asgardians love to consume.
[It doesn't matter whether he verbalizes it or not. He's noticed, and now he's smiling at her like that. Wanda's blush only deepens and finally she has to glance away at a plant over Loki's shoulder.]
[ Wanda is more bashful than he'd thought. He continues without a hitch, sparing her further embarrassment. ]
Then our exchange is equal. [ His hand raises to his chest. ] Just as I have taken the role of your tutor, you shall educate me in... [ The same hand then gestures to the table of food. ] ...culinary endeavors.
[She may be utterly out of her depth, but at least her voice is steady. It's just a natural reaction to one's soulmate, right? It's nothing. Everything's fine. Sure, Jan.]
I'd like that. [She smiles brightly. It's an exchange in more ways than one.] We can make something new: Asgardian ingredients and my recipes.
I saw some fruits I didn't recognize...maybe we can try something with them next time.
[ Next time comes and goes, followed by another, and then another, their times together split between magic and food. Though Loki hadn't concerned himself with the skill of cooking, Wanda seems to find comfortable familiarity in it, so the time spent entertaining their culinary activities is a negligible sacrifice that he does not consider unpleasant.
Their routine is interrupted by Thor (naturally) who, none the wiser, requests the scarlet witch's aid in another realm. Loki is made aware of their departure after the fact, and as to their destination, well -- Thor had not divulged that information. His actions are mildly irritating, yet so spontaneously him that Loki doesn't concern himself over it beyond the bitter annoyance that his brother has once again barged into Loki's plans without an iota of consideration.
No matter how ignorant he is to them.
Their return, however, is much less subtle. Heat strain from enduring the flames of Muspelheim. What was Thor thinking? No one could hate the golden prince more than himself right then, but Loki would have been more than happy to add to his guilt had he the opportunity. Instead, he's reduced to seeking Wanda under the guise of the mere servant tasked with her aftercare. It's smoother than furtive visits under invisibility at least. ]
[Wanda knew her mythology well enough to ask if it would really be all right for her to accompany him to Muspelheim, but Thor had done so much for her in bringing her to Asgard that Wanda couldn't refuse such a small request. It had been uncomfortable at first, but she'd tried her best to ignore it and push through...and when it became apparent that humans really couldn't tolerate the intense heat of Muspelheim, they weren't exactly in a position where withdrawing was an option.
Wanda doesn't remember very much beyond that, but she's overheard the healers gossiping. Apparently Thor had made quite a scene storming into the palace bellowing for aid. 'Hard to believe she's as powerful as the prince says. Midgardians are so fragile,' one of the voices had remarked. 'But he said she made an entire squad of fire demons disappear.'
If Wanda was in any condition to think straight at the time, she would have been very worried that she can't remember doing that, but as it was, she drifted out of consciousness before the other healer could reply.
Wanda drifts in and out, too delirious to really keep track of anything. She doesn't even wake up when the healers decide her life is no longer in danger and move her back to her rooms.
They've laid her on her bed over her blankets with an enchanted cloth on her forehead, dressed in only enough to make an attempt at preserving her modesty. And still, for several hours she doesn't so much as stir.
Finally, Wanda groans and blinks her eyes open. Everything hurts and it feels like some unseen force is trying to crush her brain. What...?]
Mmmmmm...
[She tries to sit up and immediately regrets even moving her head that one inch.]
[ With a hand smaller and more feminine than his own, he gently places his palm upon her shoulder. The heat that bites back is obnoxious, especially to one of his ilk. ]
Lady Maximoff, [ says Loki, softly and in the voice of a woman's, ] I would advise you to remain recumbent for a while longer.
[The voice is unfamiliar but the presence isn't. Loki. She's not even going to pretend she doesn't feel a rush of relief much less attempt to keep it out of her voice, weak as it is.]
...you're here.
[Slowly, painfully, Wanda turns her head. She still feels terribly overheated and even the cloth on her forehead brings scant relief.]
Well, you survived the flames of Muspelheim. [ His head cants, brow arched and lips pressed in an expression that can only be described as blithely impressed. ] And Thor.
[ He retracts his hand, folding it in his lap. He is seated beside her bed facing the headboard, his smaller proportions not quite as towering a presence as his norm. ]
[ Loki will be particularly irate if this is to become her death bed, but he doubts it. Their healers are extraordinarily adept at keeping them alive if Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three are anything to go by.
The smile he flashes her is small and humorless. ]
That may depend. What are your personal thoughts on strict bed-rest for an extended period of time?
[ No, they don't. Loki is no exception, though his flavor of retaliation tends to be less... clamorous. ]
I shall hope that you will. The people say you're full of surprises.
[ In his lap, his index finger slowly taps the back of his other palm. He would offer her drink, but even that might prove too strenuous at the moment. Instead, he says softly, but firmly, ] Tell me what you remember.
Not very much after the fighting started. I don't remember collapsing.
[Thor had promised they wouldn't be there long enough for it to do her any harm. She's not sure if he vastly underestimated how much time it would take or forgot that physically she is no different from any other Midgardian or both.]
Thor was shouting...something. I don't know what. I think I may have woken up a little already but I was too tired to move.
[Translation: she has no memory of Thor dunking her in the nearest fountain and making a complete spectacle out of both of them while he shouted for the healers. Or of obliterating a fire demon squad.]
[ Something like a sigh passes through his teeth as he glances elsewhere. ]
Leave it to Thor to overestimate your capabilities. [ There's a tinge of exasperation in his voice, but no spite. Loki knows that this was an innocent mistake on Thor's part, but he can't help but wonder why he abruptly decided to bring Wanda along. It seems almost too foolish for him.
[She's trying to lighten the mood a little, but whether Loki intended it or not, guilt is eating at her. Had he been forced to deal with some kind of psychic backlash as a result of their actions? Had she reached out for him in her sleep? Surely he wouldn't be here unless there had been a real concern that she wouldn't survive her ordeal.
Slowly she reaches for Loki's hand.]
I'm sorry. [Said with the solemnity of someone who knows very intimately what she almost put him through. And that's enough to be sure that she'll follow all of his and the healer's directions to the letter.]
[ He is trying to lighten the mood, clearly to no avail. The weight of her apology unnerves him. Does she know?
The pain she used to focus -- the unfathomable heat threatening to smother her out of existence -- the desperation and raw power unleashed because of it -- he felt it.
For a brief, abrupt moment, he had felt all of it.
It was terrifying. It is still terrifying. That sort of mental intimacy has he shared with absolutely no one. How could he? He is a creature of deception. He was raised in lies. To be rudely reminded that Wanda could and did reach into his mind is reason enough to abort mission, but he knows, with a visceral certainty, that the connection had been one-way. It hadn't been intentional, either; it isn't her style to broadcast honest fear and raw survival instinct.
Morbid curiosity gives him the resolve to press on. He needs to keep an eye on her -- for his own sake. There had been concern -- deep, abrupt, the lurch of his stomach threatening sickness -- but it's easier to believe that he is here for himself.
It's expected. ]
Apology duly noted, [ he says dryly, all of the turmoil rolling in his stomach conveniently hidden behind an arched brow. He tries to ignore the heat of her hand on his, the weight that he hopes is imaginary. ]
I hope you're ready for a more dramatic one. When Thor hears that you've awoke...
Oh no. He has to promise to whisper or I might faint again.
[It's almost comical how her expression shifts dramatically as she can only imagine - and the imagining makes her head hurt. She's already wincing. Bulls in china shops must have nothing on Thors in sickrooms.
There's also the not-so-small matter or her decided lack of actual clothing.]
He is... [No, 'all right' is the wrong term.] ...not hurt?
[ To be fair, neither Loki nor Thor would dwell on her minimalist change of wardrobe. It is simply a necessity and Thor, whose careless actions had called for it, would be too preoccupied by guilt and relief to spare a thought to lewdness.
Perhaps the full implication of Loki being her lady-in-waiting has yet to dawn on her. ]
Not enough to grace him with your worry. [ They have been on Earth-saving adventures together, yes? Still, perhaps it would ease her mind to give a straight-forward answer. ]
Minor burns, cuts, the usual. [ A dismissive wave of his hand. ] Your scarlet may have clipped him in a few places, but he has endured worse.
[ He makes a show of sighing, slender shoulders rolling with the motion. ]
I suppose.
[ Withdrawing his hand, he partially stands and reaches behind Wanda to prop her head up with another pillow (down, of course). He handles her the same as he would an ancient relic of knowledge: with surprisingly gentle care.
The bedside stand has everything he needs to tend to her, including a pitcher of water. He pours her a cup and lifts its edge to her lips, unconsciously mimicking Frigga when she was the one to tend to a sick Loki or Thor in their youth. ]
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With just a beat skipped, he leans forward to take a bite of the bruschetta. Crumbs fall into her palm.
This is a no-brainer. Even a subconscious acknowledgement of the gesture would be a win. ]
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This time, it's different and Wanda flushes noticeably. There's a part of her, a part she cannot fully acknowledge, that desperately craves any sort of intimacy with him.
She can feel her cheeks heating, but her eyes don't leave his face.]
Do you like it?
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Quite, actually. It's a refreshing change from all the meat we blood-thirsty Asgardians love to consume.
[ Smile! ]
You might have to teach me.
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It isn't very hard. I can show you.
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Then our exchange is equal. [ His hand raises to his chest. ] Just as I have taken the role of your tutor, you shall educate me in... [ The same hand then gestures to the table of food. ] ...culinary endeavors.
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Sure, Jan.]I'd like that. [She smiles brightly. It's an exchange in more ways than one.] We can make something new: Asgardian ingredients and my recipes.
I saw some fruits I didn't recognize...maybe we can try something with them next time.
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Their routine is interrupted by Thor (naturally) who, none the wiser, requests the scarlet witch's aid in another realm. Loki is made aware of their departure after the fact, and as to their destination, well -- Thor had not divulged that information. His actions are mildly irritating, yet so spontaneously him that Loki doesn't concern himself over it beyond the bitter annoyance that his brother has once again barged into Loki's plans without an iota of consideration.
No matter how ignorant he is to them.
Their return, however, is much less subtle. Heat strain from enduring the flames of Muspelheim. What was Thor thinking? No one could hate the golden prince more than himself right then, but Loki would have been more than happy to add to his guilt had he the opportunity. Instead, he's reduced to seeking Wanda under the guise of the mere servant tasked with her aftercare. It's smoother than furtive visits under invisibility at least. ]
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Wanda doesn't remember very much beyond that, but she's overheard the healers gossiping. Apparently Thor had made quite a scene storming into the palace bellowing for aid. 'Hard to believe she's as powerful as the prince says. Midgardians are so fragile,' one of the voices had remarked. 'But he said she made an entire squad of fire demons disappear.'
If Wanda was in any condition to think straight at the time, she would have been very worried that she can't remember doing that, but as it was, she drifted out of consciousness before the other healer could reply.
Wanda drifts in and out, too delirious to really keep track of anything. She doesn't even wake up when the healers decide her life is no longer in danger and move her back to her rooms.
They've laid her on her bed over her blankets with an enchanted cloth on her forehead, dressed in only enough to make an attempt at preserving her modesty. And still, for several hours she doesn't so much as stir.
Finally, Wanda groans and blinks her eyes open. Everything hurts and it feels like some unseen force is trying to crush her brain. What...?]
Mmmmmm...
[She tries to sit up and immediately regrets even moving her head that one inch.]
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Lady Maximoff, [ says Loki, softly and in the voice of a woman's, ] I would advise you to remain recumbent for a while longer.
[ Intentionally disguised, but not to fool her. ]
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...you're here.
[Slowly, painfully, Wanda turns her head. She still feels terribly overheated and even the cloth on her forehead brings scant relief.]
What happened?
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Well, you survived the flames of Muspelheim. [ His head cants, brow arched and lips pressed in an expression that can only be described as blithely impressed. ] And Thor.
[ He retracts his hand, folding it in his lap. He is seated beside her bed facing the headboard, his smaller proportions not quite as towering a presence as his norm. ]
You've got a bit of heat exhaustion, I'm afraid.
[ Juuuust a bit. ]
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[Maximoffs. They can literally be on their deathbed and still sass you, although Wanda sobers quickly. Did she come as close to dying as she feels?]
It is...bad, isn't it?
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The smile he flashes her is small and humorless. ]
That may depend. What are your personal thoughts on strict bed-rest for an extended period of time?
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You say that like I could get up even if I wanted to. [A beat. Asgardians probably don't make the best patients.] I'll be good.
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I shall hope that you will. The people say you're full of surprises.
[ In his lap, his index finger slowly taps the back of his other palm. He would offer her drink, but even that might prove too strenuous at the moment. Instead, he says softly, but firmly, ] Tell me what you remember.
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[Thor had promised they wouldn't be there long enough for it to do her any harm. She's not sure if he vastly underestimated how much time it would take or forgot that physically she is no different from any other Midgardian or both.]
Thor was shouting...something. I don't know what. I think I may have woken up a little already but I was too tired to move.
[Translation: she has no memory of Thor dunking her in the nearest fountain and making a complete spectacle out of both of them while he shouted for the healers. Or of obliterating a fire demon squad.]
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Leave it to Thor to overestimate your capabilities. [ There's a tinge of exasperation in his voice, but no spite. Loki knows that this was an innocent mistake on Thor's part, but he can't help but wonder why he abruptly decided to bring Wanda along. It seems almost too foolish for him.
His index finger now rubs against his thumb. ]
What were you using to ground yourself?
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Pain. And then nothing. I was so dizzy I am surprised I could hit anything.
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Apparently you hit several things. Thor is lucky he wasn't one of them.
[ Leisurely, his gaze returns to Wanda. His fingers have stilled. ]
You quite nearly died. The healers coaxed you away from that particular door, but it will take some time for you to fully recover.
[ He takes in a breath and with it, an air of formality and... amusement? ]
As such, you've been assigned a lady-in-waiting. Me.
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[She's trying to lighten the mood a little, but whether Loki intended it or not, guilt is eating at her. Had he been forced to deal with some kind of psychic backlash as a result of their actions? Had she reached out for him in her sleep? Surely he wouldn't be here unless there had been a real concern that she wouldn't survive her ordeal.
Slowly she reaches for Loki's hand.]
I'm sorry. [Said with the solemnity of someone who knows very intimately what she almost put him through. And that's enough to be sure that she'll follow all of his and the healer's directions to the letter.]
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The pain she used to focus -- the unfathomable heat threatening to smother her out of existence -- the desperation and raw power unleashed because of it -- he felt it.
For a brief, abrupt moment, he had felt all of it.
It was terrifying. It is still terrifying. That sort of mental intimacy has he shared with absolutely no one. How could he? He is a creature of deception. He was raised in lies. To be rudely reminded that Wanda could and did reach into his mind is reason enough to abort mission, but he knows, with a visceral certainty, that the connection had been one-way. It hadn't been intentional, either; it isn't her style to broadcast honest fear and raw survival instinct.
Morbid curiosity gives him the resolve to press on. He needs to keep an eye on her -- for his own sake. There had been concern -- deep, abrupt, the lurch of his stomach threatening sickness -- but it's easier to believe that he is here for himself.
It's expected. ]
Apology duly noted, [ he says dryly, all of the turmoil rolling in his stomach conveniently hidden behind an arched brow. He tries to ignore the heat of her hand on his, the weight that he hopes is imaginary. ]
I hope you're ready for a more dramatic one. When Thor hears that you've awoke...
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[It's almost comical how her expression shifts dramatically as she can only imagine - and the imagining makes her head hurt. She's already wincing. Bulls in china shops must have nothing on Thors in sickrooms.
There's also the not-so-small matter or her decided lack of actual clothing.]
He is... [No, 'all right' is the wrong term.] ...not hurt?
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Perhaps the full implication of Loki being her lady-in-waiting has yet to dawn on her. ]
Not enough to grace him with your worry. [ They have been on Earth-saving adventures together, yes? Still, perhaps it would ease her mind to give a straight-forward answer. ]
Minor burns, cuts, the usual. [ A dismissive wave of his hand. ] Your scarlet may have clipped him in a few places, but he has endured worse.
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Besides, Loki's hand feels oddly right under hers. She doesn't move it, and not only because her energy reserves are critically low.]
It could have been worse.
[Her voice has started to become gradually raspier - she's still terribly dehydrated even after the treatments she's had already.]
Is there water? [Wrong question, Wanda.] Am I allowed to have some?
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I suppose.
[ Withdrawing his hand, he partially stands and reaches behind Wanda to prop her head up with another pillow (down, of course). He handles her the same as he would an ancient relic of knowledge: with surprisingly gentle care.
The bedside stand has everything he needs to tend to her, including a pitcher of water. He pours her a cup and lifts its edge to her lips, unconsciously mimicking Frigga when she was the one to tend to a sick Loki or Thor in their youth. ]
Slowly.
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keywords super relevant
♥
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pity for anyone but himself? inconceivable
let her have her dreams
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I'm so sorry, I've either had migraine brain or soup for brains
no worries
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omg sorry!!!
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