- CHAPTER FIFTEEN -
❝ DAGGERS ❞

Wanda awoke the next morning with a pounding headache, and a foggy mind. She peeled her eyes open as she groggily strung out an arm to her left, expecting it to land on the soft, feathery fabric of her covers.

She was rightly startled when her hand met the surface of someone's skin. Flinching, she tore her eyes open properly, finally feeling fully awake as she assessed who the hell it was. It was Loki.

Loki?

Wanda sat up, feeling like she had whiplash from the speed at which she had flung herself upright. It was only then that she began to recollect her thoughts, the memories of the wave of memories from the past few days crashing back on her like the tide, leaving her soaked in its retreat.  She swallowed dryly, suddenly overwhelmed by the entire situation which had only now come crashing down on her. And the more pressing matter was the fact that yesterday, the man who had slipped something into her drink had known something.

It terrified her beyond belief. She was in another century, another universe even, completely isolated save for the God asleep right next to her who had no regard for her safety or anything about her at that matter.

But, for a flittering moment, her mind flashed with the image of him twisting the mans arm off her, his own twisting around her waist painfully tightly, and she almost physically recoiled at the thought of how safe it felt. Protective. Blinking, she ran her hands over her face, ordering herself to pull it together.

The thought that was still pounding in her head and thumping in her heart, fuelling the determination in her blood around her entire form, was her intense need to get home. And for the first time in years, she didn't want to go home for the comforting hug of familiar four walls, or for the soft feathery covers of her bed, or even before she had a bed and soft covers, and instead it was cold streets and the comforting hug of her brothers arms. It wasn't for any of it. Now, she needed to go home to save it, to save the people precious to her.

Wanda Maximoff never considered herself a hero, even when the world attempted to plaster it all over her name, she knew it was faltering, she wasn't the best at lying but she wasn't an imposter, but hero always felt like a bad charade. But even if she wasn't a hero, it felt like the responsibility was impending on her entire frame.

"Maximoff?" A deep, gravelly voice shook her from her thoughts, and for a fleeting moment, she almost questioned if it was him. He sounded more tired and worn than usual, and now that she thought about it, it was sort of-

"Wanda?" This time, his voice came accompanying the rustling of bedsheets as he sat up, surveying her critically, and she almost recoiled in shock at her own thoughts. Only now did she manage to turn to him, instinctively snapping out,

"What?"

"Are you okay?" Well, that was new. Who died and appointed him the bearer of her emotional state?

"I'm fine," she forced out through gritted teeth, clenching up the sheets into her fists as she all but tore them off her, cool air hitting her legs. Only now did she realise this at she was changed out of her dress, and was instead in one of her long night shirts.

She hadn't realised how obvious the shock on her face was until a voice rang out from besides her, "Clothing spells are one of the basic ones, Maximoff," he spoke calmly, almost mockingly, but the underlying tone of reassurance was apparent.

And she hated it.

"I don't need you lecturing me on my magic, Loki, I know damn well what I'm capable of," she seethed, standing up almost robotically as she flung out an arm to punctuate her point, recreating a practised motion as she focused all her energy onto her fingertips, tapping into the power source nestled into her, an intrinsic power she was born for. The red. Her red. Her magic, which Loki seemed determined to doubt at every corner. But to hell with him. It had taken her years, but she had finally gotten a firm grasp on her power and she wasn't going to doubt that anytime soon, especially not from some sorry excuse for a God.

Holding out her arm, she let her fingers bend towards eachother, contorting as she channeled her energy into them, and finally, it led to-

Nothing.

Her head snapped around to look at her hand, disbelief written all over her features as her world slowed. It wasn't working. Why the hell wasn't it working.

"Oh sure, you clearly seem fine," he mocked, the usual boredom and annoyance she associated with his voice worming way back into its rightful place, formed into a dagger as they went hurling towards her. But she didn't have the energy to be bothered by it, too busy worrying about the energy that she was currently failing to channel into her magic.

It felt like the air had been roughly torn from her lungs as she let out a breathless noise of shock, pushing all her might into her energy. It was dampened. It was gone.

The realisation seemed to dawn on him almost as soon as she realised, quicker perhaps, and she cursed herself for always being that extra step behind. Always a beat slower.

His eyes darkened as he stood up swiftly, the thin covers crinkling and settling on the small bed as he walked over to her slowly, the question on his tongue evident from just the look in his irises before he had even spoken. She was always a good people reader, even before she could literally read minds, but it didn't take a genius to figure this one out.

"It's gone," she strained out, the shock strangling her voice, restraining it to her throat, "I can't- my powers are gone."

"Wanda?"

The girl clenched her trembling hands tighter together around her cold piece of bread as her bottom lip trembled, her knees pressing up against her chest as she attempted to make herself impossibly smaller. It was useless though, her flaming red hair was like a waving flag marking her out for any threat, a blaring alarm screaming 'I'm here,' even when she scrambled to hide.

The curtain loosely hung above her was tugged away harshly and she clamped her eyelids shut, flinching intensely as her entire body cowered away from what it presumed was a threat.

"Oh, Wanda.." they sighed softly, and Wanda peeled open her eyes in a panicked haze, trying to curl up further into herself. "Its okay milaya."

Their voice was comforting, gentle, and Wanda found herself loosening up a bit, the tension stringing her entire body together unwinding as she hunched over, her hands trembling. The woman's gaze followed to the loaf of bread tucked into the little girls hands, and her eyes softened in sympathy as she frowned.

"That is your food?"

"How do you know my name?" Wanda croaked out, her voice founding foreign to even herself. "Where is Pietro? I want Pietro."

Truthfully, ever since she had been dragged out of the explosion which sentenced her to life scrambling for scraps on the streets, Wanda had fallen silent. It had been a week since she had spoken to anyone but her brother, and even though there weren't many people left in her family, Sokovia was a small country. Everyone knew one another, so when the late Oleg's daughter took a vow of silence, it was a call for concern to some. But Wanda didn't care, Pietro was the only person she ever had to speak to, the only person she wanted to speak to.

"We will wait for him too, do not worry. I am Katrina, I work at the orphanage."

The answers seemed to click into place all at once, and Wanda panicked again, her body stiffening with fear as she shook her head intensely, "No. I am not going with you. Where is Pietro? You will separate us."

"Shh, no one is going to do that, Milaya. It is okay, we can sit here and wait for him. Can I sit?" The woman asked softly, and her voice was oddly inviting, her movements gentle and her expression open. She felt.. safe. It was odd, out of place.

Wanda nodded warily, the numbness taking over her again as her throat began to hurt. She hadn't spoken that loud or that extended for a week, even with Pietro it had only been short, quiet sentences, usually limited to only a word. But now, it felt like a necessity.

"Please, we do not want to be separated. I can't be alone.."

"I understand, I will not separate you. I want to help you, Wanda."

Wanda turned to her, surveying her through glossy eyes as she sniffled, the cool Sokovian chill wafting over her body as another breeze hit and she shivered involuntarily. Noticing this, the woman reached into her backpack and nimbly strung what seemed to be a blanket over Wanda's shoulders.

"Why are you doing this?" the little girl asked softly, an innocent curiosity glinting in her eyes.

A whimsical look took over her face, an almost nostalgic look in her eyes as she smiled sadly at Wanda, the sympathy inscribed in the crease of her eyes as she replied, "I want to help you the way I wished someone would have helped me. I am here for you."

"But.. but I've lost everything," she breathed out, tears pooling in her eyes as her lip trembled, attempting to sniffle away the tears threatening to fall, dampening her eyelashes, "Mama, papa, my home. Its.. it is all gone forever."

"Maybe, but there will be more, milaya. Trust me. You will be okay."

"Its gone," Wanda repeated, an emptiness to her words now as she stared numbly at the floor, letting her tears fall and dry in the wind, leaving tear tracks on her porcelain cheeks. "Its gone."

"Yes.. yes, it may be gone. But you will find something just as good. Something better."

"Fuck.." Loki cursed under his breath, turning away from her. "How the hell are we supposed to get back to our universe now?"

The shock had rendered her mute as she just flailed her hands around in the motion that usually ignited her powers in disbelief. It was really gone.

Ever since she had acquired her powers, she felt alienated from her own body. Almost as if something had invaded and refused to let her back in, it had controlled everything in her life and snatched the steering wheel from her steady grasp. And ever since, her life had been driven recklessly and out of her control. She had lost track of the countless nights she'd spent praying to any deity possible to take away the gnawing, invasive red which had taken over her life. Her magic.

From angered screams to anguished sobs, every fibre in her body had wanted it gone. The magic had ruined her, and a part of her rationalised that maybe if it was gone, then she would be fixed. But of course it wouldn't, so instead, she wondered what was so fundamentally wrong with her that she couldn't handle life with her powers when all the other avengers seemed to balance it perfectly. Perhaps it was the severity, none of the other avengers had powers comparable to hers. Well, that is until she met.. not the point.

She wanted it gone. She had always wanted it gone.

But now, it was gone.

She felt empty. Incomplete. Wrong.

"How could you be so reckless? You've basically doomed us," Loki exclaimed, his voice booming as he threw his arms out to punctuate his point.  His jaw locked in anger as he glared at her, his gaze demanding an answer.

Wanda laughed. She actually laughed. A humourless, angered chuckle leaving her as she stared at him in disbelief, the boiling hot anger settling in her stomach, but somehow it still felt wrong without her powers stirring up with it. Her rage was enough to make up for the lack of them though.

"How could I be so reckless? This was YOUR stupid plan that got us stuck in the fucking past," she seethed, fists clenching by her sides, "All because you decided you want to play hero. Well, you know what, you're much better at being a villain, perhaps you should stick to it."

"You want me to be a villain? Thats fine, I can find my way out of here easily, I'm a God. But you, princess, are nothing without that magic of yours. I wish you the best of luck getting out of here without me." He snarled back, grinding his teeth.

"Why haven't you found a way out then? Oh right, you can't."

"You have no idea what I can and cannot do, Maximoff." He warned, shaking his head with an almost menacing laugh as he stepped forwards towards her, looking down on her. She stared up just as intensely, the anger evident in the crease of her brow and the fury in her eyes.

"I know that you can't secure your own throne," she began, her voice low and her words tailored into daggers as she launched them, "I know that you can't do anything slightly heroic. I know that you can constantly disappoint Thor, your family. I know that you can be a monster-"

Her words may have been sharp, but they were no sharper than a real dagger, especially not a dagger belonging to the God of Mischief.

The dagger that was now being held up inches away from her throat.

"Do not speak on matters you know nothing about," he growled, eyes darkening in a rage, "You are not a God, nor royalty, you are barely even human. You're a sorry excuse for a magic user but far too much of a threat to be a human. Where does that leave you?"

His words began low, threatening, and advanced into almost menacing murmur, the question leaving his lips slowly as his grip loosened on the dagger and he drew it ever so slightly closer to her neck. Her breath halted, knowing if she made a slight inhale, it could be pressed against her skin in a second. But she wasn't afraid, not in the slightest. Was that a reckless decision? Probably, but she couldn't seem to care, too blinded in her fury.

"Where does it leave me?" She echoed mockingly, her eyes hardened to mask any emotion, she wanted him to know she wasn't afraid of his attempt at being threatening, "You don't even know where you have been left. How could you possibly know where my powers put me?"

"I know exactly where it's left you, darling," he whispered, his voice morphing into something else, something she had never associated with his speech before, it was indecipherable. "At the tip of my dagger."

A knock on the door had her stepping back, shaken. How had she just let him hold a blade to her throat? She felt speechless, her voice betraying her as her mouth opened to attempt to stir an answer to the knock, but the words soured in her mouth. Instead, a steady and deep voice rang out for her.

"We will be there shortly."

It awoke something in her, a realisation crashing over her as she internally scolded herself for her stupidity. Why was she wasting all this time fighting with Loki? She was in a whole different, strange universe, powerless and with no way out. Despite her avid hatred for him and the gut instinct to believe everything he said was a lie, he was right about one thing. She needed him in order to get home. This wasn't the time to rekindle the animosity between them. She could do plenty of arguing as soon as they were home.

"Get yourself together Maximoff, we have to go."

"Fuck you."

"Apologies for our late arrival, my wife was just freshening up," Loki narrated politely, uttering the only apology she had ever heard him say. It felt oddly fitting that the only apology she had ever heard from him was for an act.

"Yes indeed, do forgive me, I lost track of time."

"Ah, do not tire yourself with this nonsense, you may take as much time as you please," Lord Squalor waved off, a friendly smile on his face, "It is improper to rush a Lady."

She couldn't help as a wriggling thought in her head asked herself ' Is it improper to hold a knife to a Lady's throat, though?' and she almost let out a laugh at the irony, before remembering herself and banishing the thought. She had held a piece of glass up to him once, maybe this made them even. Much to her dismay, that memory didn't serve as much of a comfort.

Walking to the table, Loki practically dragged her with him as he sat down and she was forced to be seated beside him, the scattered conversations around the table hushing at the sight of them. It was only now that she was reminded of the events of the night before, her mind filling with flashes of the man holding onto her, his fingers digging into her skin, being pulled away by Mary, and then again by Loki. She bristled, bringing herself back to reality.

"Are you alright, Lady Maximoff?" A timid voice asked out, and Wanda turned to look at Mary who had been the one to ask. Wanda smiled at her, the sides of her mouth pulling up into something she hoped resembled a genuine smile.

"Yes, and I thank you for your help," Wanda thanked graciously, turning away and mentally urging everyone to just look away and stop staring at her with those damned looks of pity and concern. Why was no one speaking?

Unsurprisingly, Loki was the next one to speak, starting to make small talk with some of the other Lord's sat at the table. Wanda sighed quietly as the attention was drawn away from her and she began to move food around on her plate to create an illusion she was eating. She didn't know if it was effective, but she didn't really care.

"Forgive me for prying, but are you certain you are okay, my Lady?" A voice asked, and Wanda bristled ever so slightly, covering it up with her motion of turning to look at him. It was the man Mary had introduced her to yesterday, the one she was betrothed to. Wanda smiled politely and offered him a slight nod as response, before deciding she wasn't being very convincing.

"Yes, I am alright. Just a bit shaken."

"Ah, I see," he nodded in understanding, before opening his mouth and shutting it again, almost as if hesitating to speak. Warily, he forced the words out as she gave him a strange look, "It seems a few others have been left shaken too from your husband's.. outburst."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise at his words. Now that was new.

"Outburst?" She asked, she must've been too distracted to notice what he was doing or saying, her only memory being him practically dragging her back to their room.

Sheepishly, he nodded and continued, "With all due respect, I believe he gave a few quite a fright, including Mary."

"I apologise.. I suppose it is difficult to control your temper when your loved ones are at stake."

"Of course, and I trust you believe I mean no disrespect, my Lady," he smiled politely, and before she could respond, he had delved into a new conversation and effectively rendered her silent.

She was still surprised, she couldn't imagine him being mad enough to actually frighten people for her. Not even for an act. It was odd.

After a breakfast drenched in small talk and fake smiles, Wanda felt a tapping at her wrist and looked over to Loki, her expression already annoyed as she whispered in a hushed tone.

"What?"

"We need to go." He whispered back.

"And your inability to be civil with people has struck again, can you not even sit through a simple breakfas-"

He stood up suddenly, pulling her up with him as he fabricated some excuse for them needing to leave early, and despite her anger, Wanda pulled a smile so fake that it hurt her cheeks for as long as it took for them to turn away and start walking.

"What the fuck are you plotting now, Laufeyson?"

"Do you ever shut up?" He shot back in an annoyed groan as he continued walking, and it was only now that she realised this was not the direction to their room.

"Oh so now you just magically know this place inside out?" She laughed mockingly, but a part of her was genuinely surprised at how quickly he had picked up the layout of the house when she had barely retained where her room was.

Ignoring her, he walked out a pair of doors which she assumed was the entrance to the gardens judging by the array of beautiful flowers and hedges lined up for as long as her sight would let her see. The sight was gorgeous, and she wished she was in the right time and place to actually appreciate it. But as fate had it, she wasn't.

After he had walked for a while, with her following hot on his heels, her stopped suddenly in the middle of the field, turning sharply to look at her. His gaze was so intense that a part of her wondered if she had done something.

"What?"

"I felt the time stone calling out to me."

"What?" She repeated in shock, breathing out the word in something between a scoff and a sigh of disbelief.

He just nodded, "It was calling from our universe. The stone called out for me, this is our chance to get home."

It sounded like a solution to her, and a part of her was giddy with the relief that they could go home and she could finally get far, far away from Loki. What concerned her, however, was the fact that his expression did not share the relief she was feeling. If anything, he looked more stressed than he did earlier.

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"No," he mumbled, "No it certainly isn't."

She just looked at him, her expression clearly impatient as she waited for him to explain. It never failed to anger her how vague he was, why did he always have to speak in mystery. It made him impossible to figure out. Perhaps that was the point. She didn't care, it annoyed her anyway.

"If the stone can reach us in another universe, it means we're running out of time and the multiverse is getting weaker fast. We need to hurry."

"Fuck.." Of course there had to be a silver lining, of course nothing good could just be good. Maybe she was just a bad luck charm. Or maybe it was him. Yes, she decided, she liked that conclusion much more.

"Then we need to get out of here now," she nodded with determination, "We may as well use it to our favour."

"You aren't going anywhere," a voice interrupted menacingly.

Her blood ran cold. She recognised that voice.

"And you aren't going to fix the multiverse."

A/N:

wooooo damn its been a long ass time im so sorry abt that. life has js been a lot recently like it was shit for a while and then it got so much better but i think its starting to get worse so idk if im gonna be active again but i did really want to get another chapter out before the end of this year so heres this. im gonna start a new chapter on mind games too but idk if itll get out before new years. anyways thank you so so much for your patience and i cant promise ill get the next one out soon, but trust me this isnt discontinued. i really do love writing this book and i have the rest of the plot planned out pretty well so fingers crossed updates are quicker.

sorry for the rant but yeah, love u byeee <3

(btw not proofread sorry for any mistakes)