Who: Wanda, Loki What: telepathic convo When: After Wanda's offer to contact him: [thread]
Since he was captured, Loki's days were spent being a tall God shoved into small metal boxes. Some of the boxes had thick windows that he assumed were shatter proof. Some were nothing more than metal, with a slot in the door for food or beverages to pass through.
He wouldn't touch their food or water. He learned not to do that while he was Thanos' guest, when the foods were sometimes tainted on purpose by Ebony Maw for his many experiments. Where a Midgardian would have wasted away, he had endured the long fall from the Bifrost, without any sustenance at all. A hollow feeling in his stomach was familiar. He filled it with unspoken guilt and worry.
He was ironically impressed that the mortals were quick learners. Every time they moved him, they covered his mouth with metal so he couldn't speak. It was likely reported back to them, when Thor and Stark tried to escort him out of Stark's tower. Right before his escape, using the Tesseract.
They put a collar around his neck. It shocked him if he tried to gather even a single particle of energy to cast a spell. They shackled his hands together so it was difficult to move or cast a more complex spell or illusion. Every transfer, they covered his head so he couldn't see. And they asked questions multiple times a day. Questions he refused to answer. 'Why were you there? What were you trying to accomplish? Who are you working with? Who is Spider-man? Is Stark involved? Did you know about the storm Thor caused?'
He never answered. He only stared back at them wearily through their clear glass or the open food slots, as though daring them to do their absolute worst or that he'd kill them if given half the chance. He endured far worse than this, although he longed to be back where his wife and brother were. Annoyingly, he couldn't even use the Tesseract to return to them...unable to draw it from his pocket dimension to escape.
At that very moment, he was surrounded by armed guards, in the middle of another transfer since his capture. He knew he was in a flying ship, from the sound of engines and the pockets of turbulent air. He didn't ever know where he was going, only that a smug man named Ross said it was a "good place to bury a war criminal and forget about them."
This was strategy. Odin issued such threats to foes to demoralize foes. Loki knew that such proud posturing and over-confidence could only lead to eventual ruin. It was the same trap he fell into, himself.
“It’s okay, Billy - I’ll put on the t-rex song,” Wanda promised her baby son, who had previously been a bit cranky - he was settling down now, about to head into dreamland next to Tommy in the cradle (Tommy took his naps regularly, whereas Billy was always curious about something and wanting to be awake). She did in fact put the t-rex song on for him, his favorite, and gently rocked that cradle until his eyelids began to flag.
The song was maddening, but it helped. Then when she was certain he was asleep, she made herself a cup of tea and tended to some business of her own: finding Loki.
She was on the couch, the cradle next to her and the song still playing on the television when she reached out with her telepathy - it extended like a pier from the edge of a sun-kissed beach, reaching out over the water, an elastic dying to break.
Except it didn’t. It held strong, firming up the longer she held. She tried calling out, once she’d covered a lot of ground, voices pushing against the mental cloak she wove around herself - didn’t want to let it all in. Just the person she was looking for.
Loki?
He couldn't see through the dark hood, but the touch of another mind had him slightly tilting his head as though listening for a far off voice. Which he was doing, more or less, only without his ears. It was the only outward sign he gave that was different. He drew in a breath through his nose and let it out slowly, relaxing so that the chaos of his thoughts and feelings became a dull roar, and he could latch onto Wanda's familiar presence.
I hear you, Wanda. He was replying with his thoughts, wishing he could use the seidr that relentlessly itched at his skin and fingertips. If only he could speak to her in one of the illusionary mindscapes he once created with the same ease as blinking one's eyes. It would have been a welcome escape. The link seemed strong though, and he was grateful for that. I would offer you tea or popped tarts, if only I wasn't so unfortunately indisposed.
Loki was there, and Wanda latched on. She fortified the connection once she felt him, building around them - brick by brick, hand over hand; she wanted something that was just the two of them, cut off from anyone else, something that would allow them to talk in this telepathic landscape.
It was as peaceful and quiet as she could make it, a light breeze and a blanket of calm. At the very least, it helped her focus; in real time, her eyes glowed crimson and she shut them, tea mug placed on the table beside her.
I will take a raincheck, for those pop tarts, she replied, sounding relieved that he was - well, he wasn’t okay. But she found him. Do you know where you are? If not, do you mind if I look deeper and see if I can gather any clues? Val is so worried about you. There are lots of us worried about you.
He physically tensed at that offer, instantaneously as though afraid of what might happen. To either side and to the front of him, he could hear the guards shifting and he knew they noticed it and were on high alert. Gradually, slowly, he forced himself to relax again before replying.
I do not believe that is safe right now, he said, after that moment of hesitation. Any slightest hint of magic or energy moving out of me, and this collar activates. I'd really rather not be shocked again. I might pass out once more, thus severing the connection.
There was a longing for his wife, for someplace safe among people he knew, even among the Avengers. It wrenched painfully at his heart for a moment, simply knowing that. Then it was swiftly washed away in a wave of internal chaos, of not knowing what was happening next. He had small clues, though. So he would offer them rather than the risk of a painful shock.
I miss my Valkyrie as well, if you might be so kind as to tell her? he asked, wanting to send some message to her to let his wife know she is in his thoughts. And to the Spider-child, to say this is not his fault. As far as locations, I know only this. Next they will take me to a place that is underground. A guard was reprimanded for their slip up. I know not where though, nor any names. They move me often, so I may not remain there for very long.
It wasn't much, but perhaps it would help in some small way.
The word shocked caught Wanda’s attention. In a big way. I had a collar like that too, she said. When I was held in the Raft, with Clint and some others. Though of course she had been the only one who had apparently required a straitjacket and the aforementioned shock collar - like some kind of wild animal, tossed into a cage.
She could, at the very least, feel that Loki was experiencing the same thing even if she didn’t go prodding at his recent memories. It angered her - he didn’t deserve to be treated that way.
I will pass on those messages though, she assured him. Even if you are no longer in the Raft you had to have been at one point - if you are moving underground, perhaps we can track the path a little. That wasn’t her expertise, but she’d share all of the information she received.
She passed on something too - Wanda projected calm, like breathing in air with an earthy aroma, like they were on a beach admiring the last rays of the sun before twilight beckoned the stars. Because she wanted Loki to know he wasn’t alone, that they would get him out. Soon.
Since he had opened his thoughts more, the sensation of tranquil calm filled him quickly. He relaxed into the idea of that tranquil landscape, letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. He had been so worried about Brunnhilde, about Thor, about Peter, that he was wound tight and that thread of his sanity was fit to snap.
The worst of his thoughts were always going to be guarded and walled off, but he had a surprising amount of trust when it came to Wanda and let her into his most recent memories. As long as no magic filtered out of him, or an antsy guard didn't punch the button to activate the collar, everything would be okay.
Thank you, Wanda. I feel greatly comforted. Yet I know not if I have been to a raft. Is there something I should be listening or looking for? Loki asked, and he truly held no memory of such a place. Everything looked like more of the same whenever the hood was removed. The shackles around his wrists never came off, nor did the collar. It rankled that Wanda - so willing to help others, and a gentle mother to her boys - had ever endured the sort of experience he was. He found that trying not to use magic was akin to having a annoying itch that never went away, like dry dust crawling under his skin.
Please, do what you must to track me, he told her, not wanting to get into the copious veiled threats during his interrogation sessions.
It is an underwater prison, Wanda shared. Meant for specifically keeping those with powers...contained. After all, normal prisons couldn’t hold someone with the ability to melt bars, blast them away, or otherwise break free out of something like handcuffs, without even batting an eyelash.
The shock collar had stamped out her own abilities too - she couldn’t even think of using them, without experiencing a jolt that rattled her bones in her skeleton. So she didn’t try. She simply sat there, despondent and simmering in her anger and sadness, until Steve had broken them all out.
All I know is that it’s in the Atlantic ocean - I will ask Sam if he knows more since he was in there with me, she offered. And Tony, who was - also familiar with this specific prison. In the meantime, she did some careful searching, gliding her way through anything in Loki’s thoughts and memories that may be helpful.
I assume you don’t have...legal representation? she asked, her mental tone unimpressed.
Underwater. That was interesting. He made a mental note to listen for any sounds of water or the soft creak of support beams, as often could be heard in the dark, cold depths of space.
They did have a kinship then, as he felt despondent before this moment, his rage threatening to boil over, and despair threatening to drown him. It never quite settled on one feeling, but rather it seemed a chaotic cauldron of everything within his very being.
Under the hood, he looked off to one side, thinking about what legal representation might mean.
I know not what that is, Wanda, he thought back at her, and thought it best to explain how prisoners were treated where he was from. Asgardians stood before their king if accused of a trespass, and we defended our own actions. Others could beg mercy on our behalf, but not often was that done. Judgment was passed thereafter. One accepted it. There was no other recourse.
So she’d take that as a no, then. It is when someone represents you and argues on your behalf in a court of law. Not really for mercy, but to prove that you didn’t do anything wrong, so you do not end up in prison, she explained. People in this country go to school for a long time to become lawyers. They say ‘innocent until proven guilty’ a lot, it is a popular sentiment here.
Loki’s captors must have known he wouldn’t demand a lawyer, that he wasn’t familiar with the practice - so they weren’t about to tell him. And that made Wanda mad too. They seemed to just want to let him rot, still angry about the attack on New York years ago even if he’d been under Thanos’ thrall at the time.
We will find you, she promised. Thank you, for helping me gather some clues.
Loki mulled over her explanation, more than a little perplexed by this system. It didn't seem very efficient. Wrong doers who weren't left to rot in a dungeon were often quickly done away with, usually by a swing of the axe. A swift end was preferable to languishing in obscurity.
Nonetheless, he tried to hide his memories of Thanos's so-called Sanctuary. Of the terror he felt and the horrors endured, and of the scepter, which made him feel invincible. It helped fueled his hate toward those he once loved, and made him want things that he never really considered before. Things he didn't want now. Ruling Earth held no real interest to him. He only wanted to get back at Thor for some slight or other, and even that seemed convoluted and muddled....
That was best left alone, like a dark path that one should be wary of taking.
But, Wanda? he began to think to her, while thinking of it all, I did do those things. I remember doing them. How would it therefore be defensible, if I am guilty of the deed?
Well - Wanda paused, thoughtfulness drifting over them - something gentle, as she was, a dove or the sigh of a lover; she didn’t wish to trigger anything that might, in turn, cause Loki’s shock collar to activate. She hated that they’d done it to him - and she knew how much it hurt. If I have learned one thing as an Avenger, it is that not everything is black and white. We must take into account...intent. And not simply condemn based on one or two criteria.
It was difficult to make a moral judgement, but to do so, many angles must be considered - in this case, that was no exception. She was certain Loki was trying to do good. She trusted him, and she trusted Peter Parker.
Loki wasn't used to calm, or at least not calm that lasted too long. His very nature was capricious and mutable. The most he ever felt anything deemed gentle was with the Valkyrie. But Wanda now left him feeling soothed, and he was grateful for it. With her powers, he wouldn't like to see her angry. It wasn't a far stretch of the imagination that she could really foul things up. He nearly slipped up and mentioned that he was nearly certain that the sorcerer known as Strange had her on the same watch list that he was on...but that was a conversation for another time.
Still, that gentleness soothed him, and he relaxed even more, slouching slightly, closing his eyes and breathing easier, even past the metal they had clamping his jaw closed and his mouth shut.
I see. And he did see now, where saying anything would get him into further trouble with an already complex matter. Then I will continue to say nothing when they ask their questions. Thank you, Wanda.
That is a wise course of action, she replied - and it was, because she at the very least knew that, in the United States, if you were arrested you were not to say anything without a lawyer. Because cops tried to intimidate people into confessing to crimes they didn’t commit all the time - and then that just made things worse.
She wouldn’t stay much longer - she had to slip out of this trance and share what she’d learned; hopefully sooner rather than later, they’d find Loki. Wanda also knew that Stephen had refused to help - and he had his reasons, but she had her own for wanting to help, so she would. She was capable of making her own decisions.
Anything else you want to tell me?
If informed that the hack sorcerer wasn't going to help him, Loki wouldn't exactly be surprised. It was likely best he didn't know, since being on Midgard had enlightened him as far as hand gestures went. He wouldn't be adverse to holding up two middle fingers to the doctor known as Strange.
No, anything further would reek of sentimentality, he thought, and that was best left in private. I hope your children are well, and that I will be able to visit them again soon.
He left it as that. Not a farewell, but a see-thee-soon.
Wanda’s telepathic chuckle was husky and fond, smooth like water flowing over rocks. I do not mind some sentimentality. But yes, we will all see you soon - Billy and Tommy are growing so fast. She liked sharing their milestones with friends, celebrating in them with friends too - after all, they were only babies for so long. Then they would become toddlers, then actual walking and talking children, then teenagers and -
Well, anyway. Until next time, she whispered, before carefully easing away, out of the bubble of a world she’d created and back to the present moment.