Chapter Text
A dull, thumping sound echoed heavily within your chest and it was only then that realization hit you—that you were still alive. The vigor in which the muscle was steadily hammering against your rib cage only picked up once you opened your eyes to find no change in your surroundings whatsoever; finding nothing but black.
The suffocating, seeping and inky darkness managed to completely block your ability to see, forcing you to focus all the more on your remaining senses, and with a start your attention was quickly pulled to how your wrists itched and burned, prompting you to try and move them only to find their movements suspiciously restricted. With slightly accelerated efforts to struggle against seeming restraints you found yourself to be effectively tied up, bundled up like a package waiting for transport—which might just be exactly what you were. Upon hearing voices growing louder, drawing closer to you, you fought hard not to panic despite unmistakable amounts of adrenaline rushing through your veins and beginning to momentarily sharpen your senses even further under the pressure of keeping your newly rediscovered life.
A creaking shift of metal indicating a rather heavy person stepping into the room made you halt your already shallow breathing, straining to listen to voices speaking in languages unknown to you and filling your brain, barely audible over the sound of the organ hurriedly beating away in your chest. The noises sounded like nothing but garbled, throaty nonsense—as if one was gurgling with salt water on a husky throat—yet these creatures appeared to be communicating with each other well enough, you noted, as you started to discern different pitches in their speech.
You tried to drown them out, desperately, clinging onto believing that you’d perhaps rather not know what they were saying while your mind attempted to remember what had even brought you into whatever situation you were currently stuck in. And then it hit you like a truck in the middle of an empty road, a lightning bolt in the middle of an empty field—unexpected and sudden, but fatal in its course.
Loki.
———————
He sprung to life with a breath, long and drawled out as he sucked the air into his lungs through his gaping mouth, hands involuntarily moving to grasp the spot of skin he recalled he had been struck through, the spot where the blade had entered his skin, tore apart his muscles; the spot where the blade had ended his life.
Only that it hadn’t, now had it?
The darkness surrounding him could very well make him believe that to indeed be the case, if it weren’t for his wrists burning, his head throbbing—even though the initial wound in his stomach did not.
A heavy linen sack was resting over his face, blocking his sight—he could feel it clearly now, the scratchy material brushing against his nose and lip as he took another desperate breath, all the while trying to collect his bearings, remember what happened and not trying to lose his cool over the surprising fact that he was still alive.
He had died, he was sure if it. He had felt death’s cold claws dragging him away, he was sure of it. Only that it somehow, apparently, had not worked.
With a yank of his hands he found them to be shackled together and against the wall, with not enough chain length to reach up and discard the bag closed tightly over his head. As soon as his breathing had calmed, as soon as the blood stopped rushing through his veins in a pointless race to his still beating heart, he could finally focus on the blurry noise, hazy piece of static cutting through his head, could finally focus enough to know that it wasn’t static, but a voice.
Your voice.
It stuck out in the empty void of his mind like a sore thumb, cutting through the cotton clouding his head every now and then with words he could barely make out, could barely understand as he scrambled to understand everything himself.
How much time had passed? Having possibly died and fallen unconscious tied up in an unfamiliar place with your sight cut off really messed with one’s perception of time and space. There were many, many questions he would have liked to have answered, but first he had to make his escape. Somehow.
Yet when he tried to dip into his seidr, tried to pull onto the very strings forming reality around him he found that he couldn’t—and the searing pain emanating from his wrists, the draining sensation as if having his very own life force getting sucked out of his body upon trying quickly made him realize why that was the case. Biting on his lip to swallow a curse he let his head fall back against the wall behind him, sigh dragging through his clenched teeth.
Ancient shackles bound him to the walls, shackles with runes scarcely seen nor felt before, that he had no energy to try and decipher through their feel alone kept him from reaching out to use his seidr. He was only relieved to feel that they weren’t quite as secure as they could have been, allowing him to, with some time, possibly find the right movement of power surging through him to break them apart—and it was then that realization hit him deeply once more.
These people had, to everyone’s surprise and his very luck, no idea who they were dealing with.
Least he would have long since been back in Thanos’ hands.
——————
Your name weakly echoed through your connection back to you and you couldn’t help the wisp of air leaving your chest and pulling the heavy weight resting on it down with its blow. He was alive, actually alive, somewhere here; wherever here was. The breath eased into a quiet, desperate, but no less honest laugh bleeding from your lips, even as the bag was pulled from your head, as blinding light entered your vision and momentarily forced you to clamp your eyes shut, bright spots dancing in the darkness behind your eyelids to the music of your heart, the beat of your pulse, thrumming steadily against your skin.
You clung to the knowledge that Loki was alive even as the short blindness subsided and a red hand came into view, crimson like the blood you had just seen seep out of Loki’s body, crimson grabbing ahold of your chin, turning your face left and right with narrowed, blackened eyes watching you intently.
There was a scream just waiting to be pressed out of your halting lungs, watching the creature—creatures—standing in the room, the one with red skin and black eyes and foul breath and baggy clothes covering the lower part of his body prodding your throat, inspecting your wound. The burn wound you had gotten from just another encounter with just another creature you had no quarrel with, that decided to have a quarrel with you nonetheless.
[How are—? —Happening?]
Loki’s voice broke off at times, perhaps due to whatever had brought you into this situation in the first place, perhaps due to simple exhaustion or distance, or perhaps due to your shared near death experience combined with all the other options; yet you clung to it like an anchor keeping you grounded, a rock you could hold onto as you were drowning in unfamiliar faces and unfamiliar voices and unfamiliar languages. The grey creature in the back with a horn poking from their forehead only helped in setting you back to when that monster back in the dungeons had held you in a chokehold, had squished your windpipe and burned your throat.
Your eyes narrowed as your heart sped up, almost blocking out Loki’s comforting voice and words in a sea of uncertainty as you felt being presented with the strongest fight or flight response you had ever encountered. Memories replayed in your head while the creatures took notes, possibilities played out while your eyes zoned out on the unfamiliar writing appearing on a sheet of paper in front of you as the creature jotted it down.
[I can possibly escape—need—time]
It was all the confirmation your mind needed as your body was set to autopilot.
Focusing your energy, your thoughts, you crept your way into the stranger’s head. You might not understand whatever language they were talking in, but inside someone’s head it was all motion, all impulse, all instinct; no voice necessary to pull the lever to create your very own marionette. And so you forced the crimson one to still, forced it to pull a key dangling from a loose belt around its body, forced it to move over and open your shackles, while the rest of its companions watched dumbfounded, eyes bulging in their skull.
At times you felt a sharp stab ringing through your head and reminded yourself that you had barely escaped death, had had no time to properly collect yourself from your previous display of abilities regarding the guard you had abducted, and forced yourself to ignore the ongoing taste of iron on your tongue.
At times you also felt like some kind of superhero—supervillain—taking other’s free will and making them your very own—
[Stop—]
You stopped that thought.
Letting your eyes warily trail the place, you caught sight of a clutter of things, familiar looking objects. Next to the light glint of a knife that was unmistakably yours, a golden cover reflected glowing lights from a couple of buttons blinking harshly between the creatures waiting to watch everything unfold with confused expressions, exchanging gurgled words in agitated chats. With a pull you forced yourself to stand, swaying a bit on your feet before tumbling to the harsh, rusty and brown metal ground, coldness of the iron sending a shiver up your spine as your knees collided with the floor. Another rush of energy tugged you up, hesitant steps bringing you to the objects sprawled on a table in the corner of the room. Rust was no doubt climbing up every part of this ship, sneaking its way into cracks like ivy into walls, veins through your arm. Your belt had been placed right next to it and you collected what was rightfully yours with still trembling hands, head refusing to accept whatever was going on as real even though you knew it was.
Stale air forced itself through your teeth as you pulled yourself together, letting the creature lead you through the place, all the way to the abducted and probably half dead Prince, if whatever you had last seen was indeed correct. While you were busy ignoring something wet and warm slowly dripping down your chin, Loki’s voice continued to sound in your mind, giving you the peace necessary to pull through the jab in your head even though he sounded strained as he apparently fought against his shackles.
[I’ll be there soon.]
Was what you believed. But in your dizziness you had forgotten that the crimson creature leading you wasn’t the only one present; forgot, that there had been at least two more watching their friend help you escape and the alarm that suddenly started to blare, twist and tear at your cottoned hearing sent you into an unprecedented frenzy. Your mouth started to splutter in shock, hand moving to wipe away what you now found was blood as you froze like a dear in the headlights. Unfocused eyes found their way back to the creature collecting itself, shaking themselves from the hold you had claimed, turning slowly to meet you, staring, standing frozen in shock.
Just as a red hand had reached out to you with almost palpable murderous intent, you had forced your mind to work around the barrier, the wall of pain which had erected itself to protect you from further damage of overexerting your abilities. It never ended well, it never had and it never will.
Still, you forced you body to continue, forced the creature to continue and watched it halt in front of a door, watched, as it fumbled with the keys in hand until the right one was found and shoved into a lock, turned with a click, and the heavy, metallic door got pushed with a little bit of force. Immediately you sacked, adrenaline retreating as you knew, as you felt you had found him.
There was a pull on your wrist as soon as the door had opened, a tug forcing you behind a body clad in black and green leather, the sound of a knife being pulled from god knows where and the following slash and gurgle of a body as it crumpled to the floor—surprise momentarily suppressing your wonder over his surprisingly good health. He turned, blazing eyes softening as they met yours, drenched in concern much like the words flowing from within him and basking your mind in worry. Yet they narrowed as they moved to your lip; his jaw clenched as he raised his hand in what appeared to be a movement purely instinctual, merely intuitive as his thumb moved to wipe against the corner of your lip. You could feel the cold radiating from his skin as always, felt your own warmth leaving your body to make up for the lack of his before he pulled away again—narrowed eyes darting between his thumb drenched in crimson and your own eyes.
“You have done enough.”
With that his hand once more moved to get ahold of your wrist, pulling you along as his right hand fiercely clutched onto the knife in his hold, knuckles turning white in silent rage.
You were abducted. You had been imprisoned. Abducted and imprisoned by weird creatures, thrown into an unfamiliar place, shackled, after only barely having escaped death itself.
They would have sold you—you realized that now as Loki pulled you through the space ship, as your brain continued to catch up bit by piece with everything happening around you—sold you; which is why they had been taking notes, prodding your skin and taking in your condition.
They were slave traders.
And so the remorse you felt while Loki cut through one after the other crossing your path was miniscule at best, almost non existent as you fell into step with the Prince who was dragging you through broken down corridors, up and down a couple of steps. Your mind zoned out while he threatened people, stumbling in his rush at a pull, a draining sensation from within him, and you barely caught that the ship was low in fuel—in its state it honestly was a surprise it still worked either way—until light finally shone on your skin in colorful beams, until heat crept up your legs from the warm ground below.
Your name seemed to have been going on, over and over like a broken record playing underwater only now being salvaged, only now breaking through the tense surface of masses of water with surprising intensity. With a start your hands moved to hold onto Loki’s wrists as you noticed that he was lightly shaking your shoulders in an attempt to rouse you from whatever trance you were in. In quick, erratic movements your eyes slowly started to accept the input of the outside world, head shifting to access the situation as you found yourself in what appeared to be a little secluded space in nature, soil soggy beneath your shoes, burly, brown trees looking not too healthy among the heat, and futuristic, metallic buildings looming far in the distance, towering, almost looming threateningly over you. The sky above you was dotted by stars, light illuminating the path before you artificial by the origin of the buildings in the distance, shining brightly through the gaps of broken trees.
“We need to leave,” Loki spoke as soon as he noticed that you would understand, voice lightly muffled still with his eyebrows drawn together, “Now.”
Throwing a glance behind you just as he grabbed ahold of your wrist once more and firmly pulled you along, you watched the ship fade away in the distance, getting swallowed up in light fog. Rusty browns scarcely reflected a bit of light shining from around as you noticed just how broken down it was—had it not been such a dire situation leaving you troubled to process even just the tiniest bit of information, you may as well have been even more panicked about this whole ordeal. Leaves rustled beneath your feet as you pushed on, glancing up and catching a look of unfamiliar nervousness residing on Loki’s usually carefully crafted facial expressions, which wasn’t very comforting. Your heels dug into the dirty ground as you refused to continue, mind writhing in newfound information that didn’t add up, as it was still stuck trying to understand what had happened, feverishly running laps around your brain refusing to still. Loki’s brain meanwhile, seemed to have a much easier time in doing so, thoughts racing wild but with startling purpose it made it even harder for you to grab ahold of your own uncertainties as his were loud, despite being astonishingly well-arranged.
His lips pressed into a tight line as he narrowed his eyes, coming to a halt along with you. Green eyes squinted at you, regarding you with confusion and an unmistaken need to hurry, to leave this godforsaken place behind.
“Other planets are not necessarily hospitable in regards to me—not often to humans either,” he explained, seeming to fumble for a second before an idea formed behind his eyes, still busy sharply analyzing you, “Do you trust me?”
It was an intuitive move, as everything seemed to have been ever since you had met him in that Stark Tower back in New York. Not that you hadn’t been a terribly instinctive person even before this entire ordeal, but the connection binding you seemed to have only sharpened that aspect of your being.
So you gave him a nod which hadn’t even been necessary as he had read your affirmation through your bond. There was no hesitation.
He gave one right back as if approving of your decision, before making a tiny, subtle movement with his hand, dousing you in a feeling, a sensation akin to being basked in fresh light—and when it had disappeared you found Loki gone; and a living being, most likely a woman standing in front of you instead, skin a bright yellow, hair a cherry red cascading down their back. You gaped, wrenching your wrist out of their grasp, before putting your hand in front of your mouth, recoiling when you noticed it a soft red. The being in front of you chuckled, voice higher but no less unfamiliar as you couldn’t help but blink excessively, your mind already knowing who was standing in front of you, crossing their arms.
“Loki...?” you said it out loud, if only to make sure that you weren’t completely turning insane. Of course you knew him to have abilities far beyond what you thought possible, but to what extent you had never known. The person gave a nod confirming them to be the Dark Prince and you immediately relaxed, muscles loosing their tension, shoulders slacking.
“It is a disguise,” he explained as if it was necessary, “It will give us more time on this planet to craft a plan for our return, shielding us from people who might be on the lookout for us.”
And as such he no doubt meant everyone who was already after him, as well as whoever might be ready to take revenge for what you had done with the slave traders. You could only add another nod turning to a cough, throat still dry from the unexpected turn of events and the excessive use of your abilities, compliantly following behind him this time as he led you through twisting parts strewn through a little, broken forest.
After a trek which couldn’t have taken any longer than a couple of minutes you reached the edge of a hill, red soil beneath your feet as you overlooked a city looming below. The buildings you had detected before seemed only taller, much more intimidating from nearby, colorful, blinking ads littering the sides of the walls much like New York at night—even though the creatures rummaging around it screamed nothing of home, neither did the smell of a mixture of heat, dirt and metal entering your nostrils, nor did the sound of machinery piercing your eardrums in low tunes from all around you, from spaceships floating and flying around in the pit holding the city in its clutches in front of your eyes.
You watched everything bustle around in silence, only sound the moving city below.
“Thank you.”
Your voice was small, tiny as it cut through even the hollow drill of electronics and machines, of voices through speakers far, far away. Out of the corner of your eyes you noticed his gaze shift to you, pace slowing as feelings of wonder and confusion blossomed deeply within his chest.
“For?”
You returned his gaze, deciding to pull all the gratefulness you felt into your eyes, into the stare locked on him while your lips pulled into a smile despite the uncertainties of what laid just beyond the horizon, waiting for you.
“For staying with me,” you finished.