O U T O F T I M E
book 3 in the 'chaos series'
in which lusine returns to earth and is reunited with steve, but not everything is as it was when they said their farewells after the events of the battle of new york. with new companions in tow, ol...
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eleven "cold-blooded killer?" -
Olea sweeps around their apartment, careful not to knock over any of the house plants she'd infested the living room with in an attempt to remind herself of the home she'd once devoted herself to bringing the green vibrancy to.
Here, though the plants were much different to the hardy sort that would grow in the cold climate of Remulan, they were beautiful. Richly green, full of life, and absolutely beautiful.
She collects a few vials from the small amount she'd brought with her. There hadn't been much time to bring her entire collection from home when they'd fled to Asgard. Just whatever was in her bag, she took as she and Florian stole away.
But it is enough.
Besides, now they'd settled, she can begin to rebuild her collection. Opening temporary gateways into other worlds to forage for herbs, plants, and flora, mixing new vials, weaving new magic together to stow away for emergencies.
It will take time, but time is on her side.
The pot on the stove bubbles away. The aroma had brought Florian out of his room at last. His hair is a sleepy mess atop his head, and he rubs his eyes as he shuffles into the kitchen, slumping onto the barstool.
"Can I have some?" He asks, already pulling out the puppy-dog eyes.
Olea, in all the years she has known the young boy, has become immune. "No," She replies, popping the cork off a vial and dumping its forest green liquid into the soup. "This is for Lusine."
"What happened up there?" He leans his elbows on the breakfast bar and rests his chin in his palms. "Can you tell me now, or am I not allowed to know?" He grumbles his questions, much like a petulant child.
Olea stirs the pot for a few moments, considering whether her cousin would appreciate her telling the boy she barely knows.
"She was pushed too far," She explains. "Her frustrations with the aggressor caused her to make a decision that used a lot of the little magic she has. Exhaustion and reliving the memories she forced Agent Romanoff to witness have simply caught up with her."
"So, she's bed ridden again?" When Olea glances to him, she sees his frown carving deep lines in the usually placid marble surface of his face. As of late, that calmness of his has been rather evasive.
How could she blame him? How could anyone? He'd lost almost everything he's ever known. Perhaps he's simply a little lost. But aren't they all?
"Yes, for the time being." She turns down the heat to let the pot simmer. "But she'll be back on her feet in no time. She just needs to rest for a little while to pull her back from the edge of a burn out."
"I didn't know that could happen to someone so... well, so untouchably powerful," Florian notes, pushing back the stool and standing. He opens the fridge, looking aimlessly for something to eat. "That's how I always saw her and Lycus when I was younger. Untouchable. They would ride to war and come back without a scratch, grinning ear to ear, and covered in enemy blood."
