Lesser Gods

Though Raeyn could have sat in shock for the rest of the day, but she eventually pushed herself up in determination. Though the fact had not set into her mind quite yet, and she could not bring herself to even think the word “pregnancy,” she set out for answers she knew she needed.

“JARVIS, do you remember me asking you about floor B7?”

The Artificial Intelligence clicked on. “Yes, of course, but I still advise you to not go wandering, especially there.”

A chill wound up Raeyn’s spine, but she had a set look on her face. “Who’s down there now?”

“How many creatures or how many Chitauri?” JARVIS asked, confusing Raeyn so that she nearly stopped on her way to the elevator.

“How many Chitauri,” Raeyn answered slowly, her brows knit together. Who else in the nine realms would be down there? “Is Loki there?”

“No, Master Loki is not in the Tower. There are only three Chitauri on the level now, much less than usual.”

“How long have they been in Midgard? Would they recognize me?”

“They have seen you before, yes, but I cannot tell you if they would recognize you or not. They do not seem to be a species of high intellect, naturally.”

Raeyn gave a small noise of acknowledgment and finally pressed the elevator’s down button.

“But Ms. Raeyn, I do not encourage you to visit that level!” JARVIS reminded, his voice filling the elevator even as the doors close shut.

“I know that, JARVIS,” Raeyn said lightly. “But you know I need answers. Now, more than ever.”

She could almost hear JARVIS tut at her. “Yes, well, congratulations about that. But have you tried recently simply asking your husband about his family?”

“Well of course I have, JARVIS, why else do you think I am so determined to go there? Am I really such a character who jumps to the extremes?” There was a moment of silence before, “Don’t answer that.”

The elevator stopped moving, and Raeyn was visibly trembling, though the look of determination riddled into her features did not waver.

“I’m not going to fear walking through my own home,” she said firmly, more to herself than to JARVIS. He did not answer — instead, on the other side of the elevator doors, she heard JARVIS’ European accent speaking hesitantly in the gibberish language that must have been what he picked up from the Chitauri’s speech. After a moment, the doors slid open and Raeyn came face to face with two unarmed, but slightly confused looking Chitauri officers.

“What did you tell them?” Raeyn asked quietly as they continued to stare at one another.

“I said that you were Mrs. Raeyn, Master Loki’s wife, and you had clearance to look through everything on this level, given to you by him. I also just happened to mention what happened to the last soldiers who attacked you.”

Raeyn tried to keep herself from smiling as she nodded to the two officers as she passed between them.

“Thank you, JARVIS. So where do I start?”

“You are welcome, Mrs. Raeyn. I did not want to go through the same experience as we did last year. And if you would continue down this aisle and then make a left, that is where the files’ dates begin chronologically. Though, it is supposed to be impossible that some of these pages still exist simply because of their age. I believe that the very first one is dated nine hundred years ago, both in heading and in carbon dating.”

Raeyn was only half listening — just past the two officers were, as JARVIS had just mentioned, an entire maze of filing cabinets of all shapes and sizes. Raeyn could only assume that they were here from the days of Howard Stark, since she doubted that his son or Loki had them brought in. She paused at a random one, pulling the old hinges open — it seemed, that since the new files had been placed, the drawers had not been opened nor opened for quite some time even before that. Inside was quite the cluster of all sorts of papers and files. Simply glancing through them, she found that they were all dated from Loki’s time in Asgard — he must have only been an adolescent. There were maps, pages ripped out of books, rough sketches, and notes here and there. She did not read these, because she was determined to start from the beginning. Heeding to JARVIS’ word, she followed the maze as it skirted around the floor until the reached the far corner. Never could she see to the center of the level, because there were always taller cabinets or walls in the way. Though it was, in essence, completely open, Raeyn almost felt claustrophobic.

The cabinet she reached was nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary. Opening it, though, Raeyn entered a world that, previously, had only encompassed Loki, and occasionally his brother, mother, and very rarely, his father. From an early age, Loki had felt at least a little different, growing into a feeling of being ostracized. Raeyn read her way through at least three hundred years of her husband’s life; though there were more happy memories — more adventures with Thor, more words of wisdom from Frigga, more inspiration from the All Father — than there was tear stained pages, the pain was still evident. The tales of being overlooked, silenced, told to learn his place settled heavily in Raeyn’s heart. There had been love — so much love in this family, that Raeyn did not want to finish the story. She knew the ending. Who knew where these people were now? Living their lives more peacefully with their adopted son out of their hair? Or did they miss him terribly, regretting their previous favoritism of Thor? Raeyn did not want to know what happened to cause the divisions, yet she could not seem to tear her gaze away.

Previously, my brother Thor was gifted with the weapon Mjolnir. Father says that it was forged from the very heart of a dying star. With it, my brother can summon lightning at will; he has enjoyed the gift so greatly that the staff and councilmen have begun to call him the God of Thunder. Thor has, of course, taken all of this to his head, though I have warned him of growing arrogant. Has Father not taught us the consequences of arrogance enough over the years? Either way, it seems rather odd that my brother would be given such a title because of a simply weapon he wielded — one that he did not even create himself!

If I am ever to be given such a title, I will forge it for myself. No one else will hand me my own destiny.

A glimmer of a smile grew on her lips. “So this is where the God of Mischief was born,” she chuckled to herself before glancing down. Without even realizing, she had rested her empty hand on her belly. With a small smile, she began to speak once more.

“Would you like to hear more about your Daddy? I’m about to find out many things for myself, little baby. This is all for you, you know. But we can read Daddy’s stories together.”

Raeyn next lifted up a painting that must have been commissioned by someone in the royal family. It was Thor and Loki fighting some gruesome creature — Thor holding it with his bear strength while Loki was about to strike with his magic. They were quite a bit younger — Loki was nearly unrecognizable. No weight rested on his shoulders, and though his was not smiling, his expression was still lighter than the one he wore now. Raeyn swallowed, rubbing her abdomen, not having anything to say to the baby. Perhaps this was a mistake — what all would she have to hide from her child? What horrors lay in Loki’s past that neither truly needed to know about? If she did not know about it herself, then there would be no actual hiding if she knew of nothing to hide. Nonetheless, she continued her way through over half the filing cabinets into the night.

Her eyelids began to droop, but she forced them to continue passing over the lines of script until JARVIS interrupted her.

“Mrs. Raeyn, I thought you may wish to know when Master Loki was returning,” he said in his always professional monotone.

“Yes, that would be nice,” she replied half-heartedly, still scanning through the files before carefully packing them back and reaching for the next pile. It was a relief that most of these were not actual text — most were diagrams, notes, and overall, quite light reading.

“Well, he had returned.”

Raeyn’s half closed eyes shot open. Though she had clearance all through Stark Tower, she could not imagine him being happy that she was snooping around through here.

“I need to go!” she hissed, leaping up and running through the remaining files until she reached the elevator. None of the Chitauri soldiers were seen as she jogged, thank the gods.

“How are you going to tell him the news?” JARVIS asked causally as Raeyn clicked the button to go back up to her level, and then held the door close button to slide right past Loki on the ground floor. She was silent as they passed him, but then answered quickly and decisively.

“I’m not telling him yet.”

“Ah.” It was certainly the shortest sentence Raeyn had ever heard JARVIS say.

She quickly stripped down to her underwear, tossing her dress in the hamper and crawled under the covers. The heat was turned up far too much for spring, and Raeyn couldn’t even pretend to sleep. She tossed the covers off of her and just laid there, staring at the ceiling of their room until Loki glided in.

The door shut slowly, softly, and he moved so carefully that he must have assumed that Raeyn was fast asleep. It was… goodness, it was already three in the morning. How late these people had been up!

She watched as he took off his intricate armor and then his robes, revealing the thin wiry muscles underneath. She waited until he slid into bed next to her before curling around him silently, kissing his chest once — slowly, harshly — and pulled the covers around her one more and fell asleep.