Who: Valkyrie. Ghosts. Loki. What: Valkyrie experiments then tries to find Loki Where: outside New Asgard, Midgard, Genosha, Valhalla and the edge of reality! When: June 30: p1/pre dated: July 1: p2 Warnings: ghosts, middle fingers and shock collars, oh myyyy Status: completed.
Darkness crept up on her, she hadn't expected the night to fall so suddenly. She should have. She'd been tracking the time like it was an obsession. And one she told no one about. She refused. No one needed to know the secret of how she was staying sane right now, all that mattered was she hadn't lost her temper like Thor or gone off to break her husband out of jail, consequences be damned. They all should be proud of her.
She knew she'd promised Wanda that she'd do this with her. That having someone to watch her back was a good idea. But the Valkyrie rarely took her own health into consideration. She was reckless, wild and hard to tame. And she was, deep down, missing her husband something fierce. They hadn't had enough time before they'd been separated and she was angry.
Not at Loki or Parker, but the people behind this. Ross. She would get her payback eventually, she knew this to be truth but for now? For now she decided to test out her theory before she'd try it on a much larger scale. It was time to go hunting.
And soon? Soon she'd hunt her husband. She had waited long enough.
The Valkyrie slipped on her black leather pants, knives buckled against her leg, a black tank top despite the chill in the air, and her soft leather boots. She pulled her braided hair up into a ponytail, and grabbed a few of her Valkyrie healing salves just in case. You never knew.
She called for Aragorn to follow her as she trekked to one of the cliffs overlooking the ocean. The sea took Her price, there were dead beneath the waves to call. No one would see her, and Aragorn was instructed should she pass out to drag her home then fetch Eir. She carefully wrote out what she was trying, and tied it to his mane.
She sat down, legs folded, clearing her mind. She could feel the drain on her seiðr, that little flow where she sent it elsewhere but she didn't think it would be enough to be a problem.
Her realm was Death. She could do this.
She focused her thoughts on the dead, visualizing a thread of seiðr coming from her to find the spirits of those who had died at sea, near her. Nothing happened immediately, it took a few minutes of her sitting patiently. Trying hard not to fidget as she waited.
But oh when it did it was breathtaking. Her eyes focused on the dead that slipped from the water - only a couple answered her call. She could feel them, cold, tired. She had some pretty loose control, it wasn't perfect and it was very shaky but it was there. It was enough to communicate.
She moved to crouch, rocking up onto her toes, balanced precariously as she wrinkled her nose, leaning on the thread of seiðr, guiding each of them to their final resting places - only one ancient soul went to Valhalla, the rest off to their respective endings.
Once she'd sent them on their way she collapsed into a heap, the effort was… exhausting to say the least. But she could do it and that was all that mattered to her.
She held a hand out, finding Aragorn's leg, hauling herself up, and dragging herself up onto his back. Home. She needed a nap and some food after this, she hadn't expected it to be so exhausting.
the next day
After having some success with her practice run, and really only a headache to show for it, she decided to forgo calling Wanda (though she'd do that later) and try to find Loki. It didn't matter she didn't know where to start but she did have an idea of what to look for.
Val was restless, annoyed, angry and totally missing her husband. She could figure this out and find him. She had to - she couldn't be patient forever. This was less likely to cause international troubles. Right?
She focused her thoughts on the dead, visualizing a thread of seiðr coming from her to find the spirits that were around Loki. She figured he was easy to find. He stood out. He had to. She chewed on her lip and pushed a little harder, trying to connect with anyone she could find.
It might have helped to have Wanda there for further focus since the dead were restless and fickle creatures. These were not the heroes who were taken to Valhalla. They roamed the Earth aimlessly or were called up from Helheim with seiðr. They were killers or the killed, outside of battle, and the elderly or infirm. Most were jealous of the living, wishing to return to a body to enjoy all the pleasures a physical form had.
But something more was at stake here. Being aligned with death meant that many dead creatures were drawn to a Valkyrie seeking them out. They floated and flitted around her like grey whisps and faded forms that could only be seen through a Valkyrie's eyes. All hoped that they might be granted a chance to either live again or be given a reprieve.
Latching onto the seiðr, the strongest pushed forward, crowding in. Five spirits that could be physically felt as cold spots while they stood around her. One laid a cold hand upon the Valkyrie's shoulder to let her know she had their attention.
"...speak," said one.
Another added, "...we will aid you."
"For a price," a third finished.
Had she found herself an old battlefield she might not have been so swamped with the restless, unhappy, jealous dead but noooo she'd picked a pretty calm spot with no real history.
She really needed to do better research on things. Next time.
She had an awkward feeling she'd opened the door to more problems later. She'd been so good avoiding seeing all the dead, oh well, desperate times meant she'd deal with the ensuing headache later.
Valkyrie, to her credit, didn't flinch or make a face. She canted her head to the side. "I'm looking for my husband, Loki, and I'm asking for your help to do so and to get him a message. What price is on the line for such a request?"
She was careful - she wasn't planning on paying anything too much. Loki would strangle her himself, if she did anything too stupid.
The dead were silent for an uncomfortable moment. In the distance, the ones not strong enough to come forward were moaning in lament. No such prize would ever be theirs, but the five spirits seemed to silently be mulling things over before making any decision.
"A body to live in," a male voice insisted, in a harsh whisper near her ear.
"Ohhh, a body would be nice," mused an older woman. "A young one. A pretty one."
"I miss the cool kiss of water," a parched voice said from a figure that was so covered in scars that he surely died in a fire of some sort. "I want to live again."
"Valhalla," a younger woman said. She began cackling with deranged glee, two smokey arms moving together like she was clasping her hands. "You will take me there!"
"Freedom," said the last. "You will take me to the edge of reality and send me past it into nothingness."
"We will find your husband," the five said, in unison, "If you agree to these."
She listened with a thoughtful expression. Making deals with the dead was risky. "Freedom is doable." She pondered for a moment longer. Working through a few things in her head.
She ignored the cringe spiraling down her back at the harsh whisper in her ear, that one promised nothing but trouble. But her smile was steady. They hadn't said where the body had to be - she could take them out with Aragorn, hello other realm.
Maybe. That too held risks. Three bodies, one Valhalla and nothingness. Her fingers raked over the top of her braids, how to phrase this. The woman to Valhalla, she didn't have to promise admittance, just that she'd take her there. That would catch up to her someday, she had a feeling.
She regarded the one who asked for freedom, that one she had more faith in. The others, well, she was gonna assume they was up to no good but they were a package deal. She'd just have to try and work some safeguards into it. Like ghost tracking, and banishment clauses.
"If I grant you those requests, you will find my husband, give him a message and bring the info about his whereabouts back to me and all in a timely, quick manner, correct?"
"Yes," they replied, still in unison. "We will serve you."
Sometimes the dead were fickle and flighty. It might be easy to distract or to trick the spirits. They often tricked the living for their own malicious intents or amused whims, which might be considered fair play.
They waited patiently for her message and to be told to depart.
Valkyrie plotted it out in her head, nodding, "then we have an agreement." She made sure to put her will into the words, knowing deals held weight.
Even if she was going to do everything she could to minimize the damage. "Tell Loki that his Valkyrie will come for him." She kept it simple, easy, hoping that her husband would understand. She trusted them as far as she could see them. She carefully thought of all the safeguards - a few hours time, not enough seiðr to allow them too much freedom, but enough of she had to she could find them. She glanced at the one, smart ghost and gifted him just a smidge more.
She wanted him to succeed. "Go on then, find my husband and tell me where he is - detailed as you can be." She waved them off. She'd regret not telling them not to scare Loki later but details?
She rocked back to sit once they'd left, tired.
The ghosts departed immediately. They flew away swiftly, with a chill swirl of the air. They went flying off to all the corners of the world, scouring and seeking the Valkyrie's husband.
They followed the path like breadcrumbs had been left for them to gobble up. They crossed oceans and countries, skipping along paths that wove through the United States and the surrounding waters. They went to Europe next.
The first ghost made it to Italy, where it was distracted by a pretty Catholic woman, and he tried to possess her. Her husband summoned the local priest immediately, and the ghost was banished back to Hel. No reward for him!
The elderly woman made it as far as Egypt, where she was distracted and met another ghost in an old tomb. They lived there happily ever after, scaring the piss out of tourists and archeologists. No reward for her!
The burned ghost went as far as Wakanda. It lingered there among the waterfalls, as though transfixed by what it could no longer taste or feel. No reward for him!
The younger woman who wanted to go to Valhalla and the last ghost, the determined man, found their way to the Indian Ocean off the African coastline, and there to a small island. Into the room, they snuck inside and found who they were looking for.
On the bed, Loki was trying to sleep. Food and drink were shoved through a small opening under the door, and a whole tray of food rested on the floor at that very moment. Each tray was always pushed back through. He could survive a fall through space without food or drink, he could survive this. He didn't trust the water from the taps. He didn't see another living being, and he wouldn't have trusted them on sight, either.
So it was a surprise when he sensed something else watching him, something more than cameras. Something unseen. He slowly sat up on the bed, and each exhale hung like frost in the chill air of the room.
This had little to do with the cameras that watched him. He knew seidr enough to know who it belonged to, and without seeing where it actually was. This had the feel of his wife to it, without her actually being there. That meant only one thing...
"Oh, you mad fool," Loki said under his breath, albeit with a bit of fondness. He couldn't use his magic to silence himself from the cameras, so he made it seem like he realized something, not making any sudden moves.
While the younger ghost moved about, looking for clues and causing the postcard to flutter a little where it sat on the desk. As Loki tried to not make it obvious, he noticed that flutter. A soft whisper tickled his ear, and there was a hint of a wry smile on his dry lips:
Your Valkyrie is coming for you.
"Mmm...I see..." was Loki's faintly heard response. He rested a fingertip against his chin, as though pondering something very deeply. As he ran his fingers up over his lips to cover them, he mumbled something as though musing aloud, "I truly should send her my love, as soon as possible. Perhaps if I sent her a postcard?"
He looked over at it. Both ghosts began to study it more carefully.
Loki was patting himself on the back for being so clever. It didn't last long. The collar beeped, and he knew what followed. A sharp electric shock coursed through his body, sending him flopping back onto the bed and left him twitching, thoughts thoroughly scrambled.
The ghosts backed up immediately. The TV flicked on, and a bright white screen flashed bold red letters: ALERT!
A robotic voice announced, "A temperature anomaly has been detected in room seven-one-eight-eight. Any further manipulation of temperature will result in further corrective measures."
Loki tried to wave it away but had no muscle control.
The two ghosts fluttered out and away, whooshing back to where the Valkyrie waited.
"a Sex Rehabilitation Center," the woman ghost told her, whispering in one ear. "We crossed a sea."
"Over all of Africa, to the furthest side, in the ocean. He will send his love as soon as possible," the male voice whispered in her other ear. "They put lightning through him. He could not speak further. They threatened worse."
"The gene shore gave him Corrections," the woman added, like she was sure that's what it was. "Pictures with words on them, a nice room, an inn...near a bay...."
"Corrective measures," he whispered, as though correcting his fellow ghost too. "He is watched."
"We've done as you asked. Give us our prize!" the woman insisted, impatiently.
The male said nothing.
The pair hovered and waited.
An ice cold chill ran down her spine with zero explanation as to why. She blamed the ghosts. She'd been pacing, her footsteps wearing a trail in the grass she stood on. She was pondering just how big of a mistake she might be making when they returned to her.
The woman made half sense, and Valkyrie sighed, ghosts. Unreliable. But better than nothing and she sighed a bit. "Ah. Well that confirms a few things." She said softly then cringed, she hadn't meant to get Loki shocked for her need to find him. She felt heartbroken that she'd gotten him into trouble.
Her fingers traced the tattoos on her left wrist, as she looked to the pair. "You have done well. Thank you both for your help." She put her fingers to her lips, whistling for Aragorn. She knew the woman was going to be disappointed, but that was alright. Nothing was perfect and she'd been a little judgy sounding.
Fingers curled into the mane of her ride, swinging up onto his back. "You have done what I asked, come then." She'd take the woman to Valhalla first, it didn't matter how much the woman wanted in, if she didn't earn it the correct ways the gates wouldn't let her through and Valkyrie wasn't taking her into the halls. Hela could have another angry soul, she only promised to take her there, not take her inside.
The man however, he'd been good and helpful. When it was just them, she offered him a kind smile. "Are you sure this is what you want? I am grateful for your more lucid assistance. You have given my heart a measure of peace."
He had, too, even if she knew when she got her husband back she was gonna get an earful.
Outside of the gates of Valhalla, was a very pissed off young spirit. No matter how much she wailed, it would not open. No reward for her!
For the male, he seemed more calm and patient. That patience was about to pay off.
"I am certain. I've seen enough. I know that I never want to go back," the man said, and let out a long cold sigh of relief through breathless lips. "I want to see what has never been seen. Before I cease to be."
It was well known that a Valkyrie's steed could travel far, from the battlefield to Valhalla and back again, without breaking a sweat. When the ghost was taken to the edge of the known universe, he dismounted and moved toward the endless expanse toward the waiting void. Before he faded out of view, he gave the Valkyrie a grateful smile. Then the blackness embraced him like a long lost lover, and he was gone, never to be seen or heard again.
Back at the 'rehab centre,' Loki was just catching his breath and trying not to mention his wife's name and a string of curse words. He glared at a camera that was directly over the bed. It stared back at him like a passionless unblinking eye.
He promptly held up one hand and lifted a middle finger, as he had seen the taxi drivers in New York do out their car windows.
In response, a smaller split-second jolt shot into one side of his neck.
At least whoever was on the other end had a sadistic sense of humor.
The Valkyrie watched the man step into the darkness, the embrace of the end was peaceful and she was grateful she could provide that peace for him. She nudged Aragorn to turn and head home, she was exhausted, worn out and thrilled all at the same time. It had been the closest she'd come to her husband in over a month.
Aragorn's hooves touched down and she slid off his back, landing heavier than she meant to, patting him on the neck and making sure he was settled and given treats, before she slipped inside her home.
The Valkyrie was bone weary. She'd not used her seiðr in such a fashion in a very, very, very long time (millennia, she felt), and she'd forgotten how much it took out of her. She paid the price and she'd pay it again.
She drew herself a bath and settled in to ease the deep ache in her bones, and try to soothe her heart, with a hot bath before she crawled into bed. She'd reach out to Wanda and Tony later.