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❛ ᴇᴛᴏɪʟᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ɪ'ʟʟ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs
ᴍᴀɢɴᴇᴛɪᴄ ғᴏʀᴄᴇ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴍᴀɴ 
ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴍʏ ℒ𝒪𝒱ℰℛ꒱


❝ YOU, MY DEAR, ARE HEAVEN ❞

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A S G A R D

Loki took in the brunette with a new light. It must have been so many years since she'd been royalty that she had forgotten how to carry herself like a princess, but he and Thor had met her brother, Freyr. There was a family resemblance there, in the untamable brown hair and matching eyes, her strong, slightly pointed chin that bordered on manly rather than feminine. He also admired Eleanora's unexpected skill in conveying important information without giving away their plans. He was so used to Thor's blundering diplomacy and his friends' equally deplorable subtlety that it was surprisingly nice to have someone who had that sort of talent. Yet another reason to love her, he thought fondly before quickly shutting down that train of thought.

Eleanora continued to speak as she explained the woman's story— as if Loki didn't already know it himself. "She has been missing for many a long year in servitude to a cruel and careless witch. Before she returns home, she would like the freedom to travel around Asgard as that is not a luxury she has experienced for countless centuries. I am sure that Asgard's golden palace is an impressive stop on her list."

His brother opened his mouth to most assuredly protest , but Loki spoke quickly across him. "We would not be doing our civic duty to deny a lady of royal pedigree the chance to see the glory of Asgard," he replied easily as understanding flashed between him and the blonde. "She must, of course, come with us, should she desire to. And brother, think of this as insurance that I will not be up to my usual tricks. Not even I would risk Asgard's relationship with Vanaheim."

"I would be honored to see the heart of Asgard's splendor," Freyja answered, her tone giving nothing away— not even Loki could tell how much she knew, if Eleanora had shared anything with her.

Thor agreed reluctantly. "Very well. I would not be one to deny a lady of sightseeing. We shall return you home promptly, whenever you wish, princess."

She smiled beatifically at him in response. They parted ways not long after, with the older prince going off to find his friends while Loki, Eleanora and Freyja embarked on a short tour of Asgard proper.

✧ ✧ ✧

"Eleanora has told me everything," Freyja informed Loki once they were relatively alone. "I would be happy to sanctify your marriage."

An amused smile curled on his lips as he glanced over at the blonde. "You've told everything? Surely you didn't include how, last night—"

"Everything that was important," she corrected him swiftly as a blush rose to her cheeks. "Don't be a jerk."

"I'm only teasing, darling. You'd best get used to it if you're going to put up with me for the coming years."

Eleanora only shook her head. "Are you sure we're meant for each other, Freyja?" She dropped her lighthearted tone as she became serious once more. "And are you sure you're willing to risk Odin's wrath for us? Because even though I have yet to meet him, from what I've heard, he'll certainly be less than pleased—"

"I'm sure," the brunette promised her firmly. "I know when two people are perfect together, and you two. . ." She trailed off, her expression turning into something that was both wistful and apologetic. ". . . will need each other in the coming centuries."

"Those are my 'dark times' that Eleanora's mentioned, aren't they?" Loki asked wryly.

"I'm not a Seer," Freyja replied, unknowingly echoing the Star's words. "But I do know about Stars, and love. There are certain paths relationships take. The string tying you together may weather and fray, but it will never break. Those are the times when you'll need each other the most. Love is a powerful force, stronger than any darkness that may come your way."

Loki's gaze softened as he reached out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from Eleanora's face. "I have no doubt about that," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "With you by my side, I feel like I can face anything."

Freyja smiled warmly at the couple. "Then let love guide you through the storms, my friends. And remember, even in the darkest of times, the sun will shine on you again."

✧ ✧ ✧

As evening settled over the realm, Eleanora felt all of her nerves come rushing back to her. In just a few moments' time, she would be meeting King Odin the Allfather, Ruler of the Nine Realms. It was an impressive title alone, not even including the man himself. The three of them lingered by the palace gates as they waited for Thor to arrive and she couldn't seem to keep her gaze away from the golden palace.

Seeming to sense her unease, Loki put a gentle hand on her shoulder, the touch both reassuring and fortifying. He leaned in close to her ear, the brush of his lips against the sensitive skin making her shiver. "Do not despair, darling. Our plan will work yet."

Freyja gave her an encouraging look. "You and Prince Loki have done me a great service, not to mention the flourishing trade between Vanaheim and Asgard. Even if the king does not recognize my authority— which he should— there is nothing he can do against us. My father would see to it that I am respected."

"I know," Eleanora allowed, casting a grateful glance at (her soon-to-be husband! Think about that instead) Loki. She wished it was just the two of them as she wasn't about to admit the true reason for her fear aloud: her mother's portrayal of Odin as a monster. But Freyja was there, not to mention the Einherjar standing feet from them and who would surely report her words to the king.

Thankfully, Thor arrived not long after and his entrance was enough to distract her from her anxious thoughts. He was clearly steaming mad as he approached them, his blue eyes flashing as if little lightning bolts were shooting through his gaze. He was no longer the charming prince she'd met hours ago as he strode towards them with Volstagg and Hogun on his heels. "Change them back," he growled at Loki, only keeping it together due to the presence of the royal soldiers.

"I have no idea what you're alluding to, brother," the dark-haired prince replied smoothly, adopting a look of innocence.

Thor jabbed a finger at the frog and snake. "Sif and Fandral. You turned them into reptiles."

"Ah," he began, completely unruffled in the face of his brother's anger. "Actually, only Sif is a reptile. Fandral is an amphibian. And what has led you to the conclusion that it was me who did such a marvelous bit of magic?"

"You're the only one who wields seiðr well enough to carry out such a trick. Now turn them back or I shall get father involved."

Loki feigned offence. "Brother, there is no need to invoke the name of our father. Surely I have not done anything so terrible as to incur his wrath? Are you quite certain that you do not prefer your friends this way? I must say, I think being a reptile suits Lady Sif quite well— her temper is far more manageable in this form."

The snake hissed in response, baring its fangs furiously. Thor glared at the younger prince. "You will turn them back, exactly as they were, or you should not like the consequences."

Eleanora's brows furrowed in worry as she watched the scene unfold. She was the only one who seemed particularly concerned and she supposed siblings arguing was par for the course, but being raised on her own she was unfamiliar with such relationships. She tugged lightly on the god's arm. "Loki, come on. We have enough to deal with today without needlessly vexing your brother."

He glanced down at her, studying her pinched, anxious expression. There was a pause when no one said anything, wondering how he would react to her request. Then, he heaved a sigh as if her plea was extremely exhausting. "Very well. I do hope Lady Sif and Fandral are grateful for Eleanora's mercy. It is a pity; I would have quite enjoyed the silence, but here you are, brother."

There was a flash of green magic and in the snake's and frog's places were Sif and Fandral, respectively. The dark-haired woman glowered at Loki and drew her sword, ready to charge at him. The god didn't so much as move a muscle, knowing precisely what to expect from their transformations as he'd undergone his own not long ago.

Sif's usually agile balance was thrown off. When she went to lunge forward and slash her sword towards him, she stumbled and would have toppled sideways if it were not for Volstagg steadying her. Fandral was experiencing his own stability problems, forcing Hogun to take his weight. At his brother's furious glare, Loki held up his hands. "Side effects of transforming, I'm afraid. This is not my doing, unfortunately, as amusing as it is. They will return to normal before tomorrow's ball."

Thor clenched his jaw, his frustration palpable even as he got his way. "You test my patience, brother," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Loki merely smirked in response, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh, come now, Thor. Where's your sense of humor? I simply wanted to add a bit of an extra edge of competition to father's challenge."

Eleanora, still holding onto Loki's arm, shot him a disapproving look. "You could have caused serious harm."

The god shrugged nonchalantly. "But I didn't, did I? And now, thanks to your intervention, all is well. Besides, it's not every day we get to witness the mighty Lady Sif reduced to a snake."

"It is," Hogun grumbled tiredly. "Literally every day."

Loki's smirk widened. "And it never gets old, does it? Come now, we mustn't keep father waiting."

✧ ✧ ✧

When they reached the throne room doors, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three returned to their regular duties, leaving just the royalty and Eleanora to face the king. The blonde's eyes were a little wider than normal, her face pale with fear. Even the witches who'd tried to cut out her heart hadn't been as terrifying as Odin; at least, with them, she would have had a swift death. If Loki's plan didn't work. . . she tried not to think about it.

The god stood next to her, his spine and shoulders straight with pride. His gaze was looking ahead unwaveringly with all the confidence of an Asgardian prince. If she didn't know any better, he had no counter plan and was walking through the throne room to turn her in. She wished she could be that poised. Thor was equally composed; the only traces of his anger that remained were in the tightness of his grip on Mjolnir's handle and the tension in his smile. The two brothers stood on either side of her like sentries while Freyja trailed behind them.

As they stepped through the massive doors, she couldn't hide her gasp of awe at the throne room's grandeur. The ceilings were so tall that they disappeared in shadows. The myriad of pillars that were spaced around the room were bigger around than even Alfheim's trees. Their footsteps echoed tellingly off of the shiny, tile floor. In the back of her mind, she wondered how long it took to clean such a massive room. Good thing I won't be a servant no matter the outcome of today, she thought.

No one spoke until they stood before the throne where Odin leaned forward with interest. Eleanora's breath caught in her throat as she laid eyes on the Allfather for the first time. He didn't look anything like a monster, she mused as she recalled all of her mother's horror stories. He looked like a normal man, albeit a powerful one. Around her, the other three members of their group bowed or curtseyed in respect, and it occurred to her that she should do so as well, even if she had no reverence for the man on the throne.

She bent into a shaky curtsey, praying that she wouldn't make a fool of herself and fall over. Eleanora felt a faint slither of seiðr curl around her center, the familiar, cool green of Loki's magic anchoring her in place. She tried to keep her face impassive but she couldn't help the flicker of appreciation that she felt for the god next to her. It was obvious that he was an expert in keeping up appearances as his expression never gave away his actions.

"You may rise," Odin said, breaking their silence. He stood as they did and came down the stairs to position himself before her. Although his blue eye remained on her, when he spoke it was apparent that he was speaking about her and not to her. "This is the Star?"

"Yes, father," Loki answered. He had straightened again, his blue-green eyes watching the Allfather carefully. "We have travelled far and experienced many things, but have been lucky enough to arrive before your deadline."

"So it seems," the older man agreed. Still, he did not address Eleanora directly as he talked around her. "Which of you claim to be the one to bring it before me?"

"It is I, father," the dark-haired prince replied quickly, before Thor could speak. Odin's expression was indiscernible; it was impossible to tell if Loki's statement disappointed or pleased him.

Eleanora held herself as confidently as she possibly could, making a pointed effort to not look directly into Odin's eyes— or, well, eye, she supposed. That was definitely off-putting, and she suspected he enjoyed the effect it had. However, her resolve faltered when the king stepped forward, right into her personal space. He was only inches from her as he examined her face critically. Then, she lost all composure as his rough, weathered hand came up to grip her chin.

She startled, her eyes flying wide as she tried to jerk out of his grip. Thor remained motionless next to her, watching them as if they were in a very intriguing play. Even Loki didn't move, and her heart sank as he didn't interfere. He didn't so much as narrow his eyes in anger; he stayed as impassioned as the rest of his family.

"Relax, child," Odin told her, his voice disquietingly soothing— she took no comfort in it, though. Her skin prickled with unease as every nerve in her body urged her to run. "No harm shall come to you."

It sounded more like a threat than a reassurance.

He continued: "tell me what you are called, Star."

At first, her voice wouldn't work, as stuck in her throat as it was. She swallowed several times to get it freed. A part of her was too terrified to think, and if she couldn't follow the Allfather's demands— even a simple one as this— what would become of her? Finally, she whispered out: "E-Eleanora."

"A fitting name. We shall keep it, I think," the king conceded. "Did you know that it means 'shining light?'"

"Yes," she murmured, unable to speak at a normal volume. She really wished that he would let go of her, but her chin was still gripped between his thumb and pointer finger.

"The last Star was called Aðalbjörg. A mouthful to be sure, but it served as a reminder for its purpose. What is yours, Eleanora?"

He peered at her with such intensity in his blue eye that she wanted to cower away from him, duck her head so that she would not have to meet his gaze anymore. With his hand holding her face, though, that was impossible. It was oddly violating to be ordered to speak of her glorious purpose; that was something for her to know alone, and only share if she wished to. She was not the adept liar that Loki was and she knew that she could not fool the Allfather. Still, she did not wish to tell him of her connection to his son— he would only be more eager to separate them. So, with as steady a voice as she could muster, she said, "as my name implies, Your Majesty. It is my duty to guide others to be the best version of themselves."

That seemed to satisfy him for the time being, at least. "A final request, if you would. Shine for me."

Eleanora could only stare at him, appalled by this stipulation. She couldn't shine on command! It was like he thought she was some— she was some dog, willing to do tricks to please him. Not only that, but she was far from happy. She was scared out of her mind, exhausted, apprehensive about their upcoming plot— name every negative emotion and she was probably experiencing it right then. She was in no state to glow.

The Allfather's gaze remained on her, unwavering in his anticipation. She felt a cold chill ripple down her spine, and all the could think about was this is it. Now I'm going to die, just because I can't do the one thing I'm supposed to. Her one condolence was that he had finally released her face so she could show him her abilities.

Then, she felt a gentle brush of air next to her ear and, inexplicably, Loki's voice spoke into it. "My father does not know I'm doing this. Don't give anything away."

She glanced at him sideways, trying not to react as she saw his form, still as solid and real as if he were standing beside her. But somehow— illusion? projection?— he was right next to her— no, actually it was more accurate to say behind her— too, and his father none the wiser. She felt him place a hand on her shoulder, just as heartening as it had been earlier that day. At least she knew what to expect when he continued, his voice warm and full of pride as he encouraged her, "shine, darling. Let my father see how beautifully you can. Blind him with your brilliance. Burn so brightly that he cannot see what hides within your light."

Eleanora's heart raced, torn between the weight of the Allfather's expectation and the reassurance of Loki's unseen presence. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes, focusing on the inner light she possessed, a radiance born from her connection to the stars. She thought of all the happy memories she'd acquired recently and summoned it forth, feeling it surge within her, a warmth that spread from her core.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, and in that moment, it felt as though the room itself held its breath. A soft, ethereal glow emanated from her, casting gentle hues of silver around her figure. It danced like starlight upon her skin, weaving around her. The Allfather watched in silence, his gaze tracing the delicate contours of her light as it enveloped her.

Loki's unseen touch remained on her shoulder, a silent encouragement that bolstered her resolve. She could feel his pride echoing through the subtle brush of his presence, his support giving her the strength to shine even brighter. And so, Eleanora let herself become a beacon in the darkness, a testament to her own inner strength and resilience. She shone not only for the Allfather's eyes but for herself and for Loki, a silent vow of defiance against the shadows that sought to extinguish her light.

As the shine around her person faded, the king gave her an approving nod. "That will do nicely. I'm sure you would like to refresh yourself before the ball tomorrow, so I will dismiss you now to give you enough time to do so."

"My apologies, father," Loki spoke up. She felt his presence vanish from her side, and immediately missed the comfort of his touch. "But we are not quite finished yet."

"Oh?" Odin inquired, seeming to only humor his son rather than take him seriously.

The dark-haired prince stepped to the side and brought the princess forward. So caught up in the Stars' arrival, the Allfather had failed to notice his meek, unobtrusive guest. "May I introduce Princess Freyja of Vanaheim, Goddess of Love, recovered at long last from the clutches of an evil witch who had ensnared her for these many past years."

The king cast his gaze to the brunette, appearing captivated at last— though not as much as he'd been in the Star, of course. "Yes, I do remember your father's grief over your disappearance. Welcome back to the light, my lady. We would, of course, be happy to send you on your way home speedily."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," she began demurely. "I cannot describe my excitement at the thought of returning home at long last. Before I depart for Vanaheim, there is a debt that I must repay. I ask for your blessing to enact upon it."

Odin inclined his head in gracious allowance. "Of course, princess. Whatever debt you have acquired we would be delighted to assist your fulfilment of it."

"I'm pleased to hear that, father," Loki said, only barely resisting the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips. "For it is I who Princess Freyja is indebted to."

His father's blue eye narrowed on him, the openness (at least, relatively, for a king) of his expression hardening as he caught wind of his son's trademark scheming. "And what would you ask of a lady who has already experienced untold suffering?"

"Nothing too taxing, I promise you. Merely a simple consecration of a union."

"A union?" Odin echoed suspiciously. "Who would you have married?"

Now, the God of Mischief couldn't hide the smirk— at least in his voice— as he answered, "Myself and. . . Eleanora." He placed a hand on the Star's shoulder as he spoke her name.

"Loki," Odin's voice was low, a warning rumble, "you tread dangerous ground."

"Then I am in familiar territory," the prince responded smoothly. "An Asgardian marriage needs only an officiant— Princess Freyja, whose title gives her the power to do so— and at least one witness— and with Thor, we have two."

His father's eye narrowed in disapproval, his mouth tightening around the edges in an ill-disguised scowl. "You know as well as I do, Loki, that such a union is not permissible. Eleanora is a Star, and you are of Asgardian lineage. The chasm between your worlds is insurmountable. Stars are not seen as citizens of our realm."

"Your Majesty," Freyja broke in politely, "with all due respect, Eleanora is not a citizen of your realm. She is of Alfheim. If that is not enough, I am happy to speak for Vanaheim and adopt her as a ward of our realm."

"You see, father, there are solutions to every problem," Loki pointed out. "Besides, does not love know no boundaries? Have we not heard tales of gods and mortals, elves and dwarves, finding companionship despite the odds? Why should my case be any different?"

At the idea of his brother suggesting to marry a Star, Thor had been stumped into silence as he tried to come to terms with his words. He'd known his brother was prone to scheming and had even suspected that Loki might be planning something further with the Star than simply handing it over to their father, but this. . . Although he was slow on the uptake, his brother's actions made sense now; marrying the Star would put it in Loki's care, under his control. Their father would have as much influence over it as he did his own sons— that was to say, not much at the best of times. It would have been an impressive tactic had the Star not been such a significant piece on the proverbial chess board— but of course, that was why Loki wanted it.

"Brother," the older prince finally burst out. "This is madness. You cannot marry a Star. They know nothing besides orders and duties to carry out. It cannot love you."

"Then it is a good thing that I am not looking for love," Loki lied easily.

The blond frowned at his rebuttal. "You would go through with this plan purely to embarrass our father?"

"Not embarrass," Loki replied, "but to assert my independence, to show that I am not bound by the limitations of our society's expectations. Besides, a marriage of convenience can serve many purposes beyond mere affection. This arrangement shall serve my needs, and Eleanora's. She may find herself relieved of the burdensome expectations placed upon her as a Star, and I shall gain a valuable ally."

Their father's expression remained stoic; his blue eye steely as he glared at his son. "Do not expect my blessing in this endeavor, Loki. I should call my guards to keep ensure that the two of you are never together again."

While Eleanora stiffened at this threat, fear and dismay coursing through her once more at the thought of being locked away, doomed to never see the light of day again, or breath in fresh air, or see the god she loved, Loki only offered a sly smile, unphased by his father's words. "But you won't, will you, father? Because you know as well as I do that such drastic measures would only serve to exacerbate the situation. The whispers in the court, the unrest among the realms—imagine the uproar if it became known that you imprisoned your own son and a celestial being. It would be a stain on our family name that even your considerable power could not wash away."

Everyone could sense the tension in the air, so thick that it could be cut with a knife as the son and father stared each other down. It was only Freyja's gentle throat-clearing that eased it into a ruffled standoff as she stepped forward. There was a genial smile on her face as she turned her attention to the couple in question. "Shall I begin the ceremony, then?"

✧ ✧ ✧

When they were finally able to retire to Loki's chambers, the moon was out, casting a soft glow through the windows as its light slanted across the carpet and bed sheets. Eleanora had never seen such opulent furnishings, but the shine of her new surroundings was marred by the long, stressful day that she'd experienced. Tomorrow, she promised herself. Tomorrow I will enjoy being a. . . . princess. It was hard to imagine, but that's what she was now, by marriage. A part of her couldn't believe that their plan had worked.

Almost as if reading her mind, Loki— her husband!— stepped towards her, tugging her close into a comforting embrace. When he spoke, his voice a husky whisper that sent shivers down Eleanora's spine. "Tomorrow I will take you on a tour of the palace."

"Oh? And what would we see?" Eleanora asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and a hint of mischief.

His lips curled into a playful smirk as he bent his head so that his mouth brushed against the sensitive shell of her ear. "My lips, my chest, my. . . " he trailed off, the last item on his list causing a rush of warmth to flood Eleanora's cheeks.

"So you're calling yourself a palace?" she questioned, her tone teasing yet affectionate as she met his gaze.

He chuckled, his fingers reaching out to gently brush against the side of her face. "Well, they say that your body is a temple, and I'm a prince, so. . ."

"What does that make me, then? As I'm neither royalty nor a priest," Eleanora countered as she leaned closer to him.

He gently cupped her cheek— his touch incomparable to how his father had handled her similarly hours ago— as his voice dropped, full of sincerity and adoration as he met her eyes. "You, my dear, are heaven." 

A/n: ahh! I can't believe I'm finally finished with the first act of Etoile— it's been a long time coming, I know. I couldn't quite decide which song I wanted to go with for this chapter. The line in Lover that is the chapter title has always been in reference to Loki for me; there is no other man with such magnetic force. But Rude also worked since Odin would never allow Loki to marry Eleanora, plus it fit's Loki's vibe really well, too. So, I went with both :)

And of course I had to make more work for myself by deciding to include and interlude segment between the two main acts. Mostly because I wasn't ready to write angst for Loki/Eleanora right away, but I also wanted to give you guys some more background for their relationship since this entire act takes place in only seven days. (A little hasty for a marriage? Sure, but this is fanfiction and it works with the plot, so I don't mind 🤣)