The battle was glorious, but it was not lengthy. Unfortunately it was not glorious in the way that the trickster deity had once predicted it to be. The city was crumbling yes, in flames, yes, but it was the bodies of the dead Chitari that was the kindling for this fire. The god, dressed in a glittering gold and a pitch black, gripped the railing of the Stark Tower balcony tightly gritting his teeth. His mortal body was failing him, and though he knew that this form would die, his essence would survive, and he would eventually return… but to what..? Failure, and that killed him more than any physical wound could. The roaring flames reflected on his serious face, and in his betraying maddened eyes. He fought to suppress a cough, blood bubbling up and forcing its way out between his pressed lips.
"My lord!" The call came in a serious, but alarmed tone of a woman from behind him. Malice, wide eyed sprinted over but stopped in her tracks as the higher being sneered at her hatefully. She had waited. She had always waited for him; literally selling her soul just to be able to follow him to Earth once she had heard that was where he was. He was so wrapped up in being Thor's equal, proving himself to Thor and to Odin, no one else seemed to exist. He never saw the pain in his servant's eyes when he lashed out in anger; he never questioned the relationships between him and the people who had been there to see him grow up. But now what was relevant was that he never noticed her, noticing him. She always was there to stitch him up after he got hurt play-fighting with Thor. He chose to rant about the carelessness of the brutish oaf rather than express his gratefulness for the help. He wasn't wicked.. he was just overwhelmed with other things, more important things. "Lord Loki.."
Malice, looking as out of place as he did, wearing her Asgardian robes, a long cloak that draped off her shoulders, which she threw off as Loki fell to one knee. She rushed to his side despite the heated glare he gave her. He clutched tightly at his bleeding chest as she ripped a long uneven strip of material off her cloak, reaching under his arm and applying pressure to the wound. "The wound is deep, we must-" She tried to ignore his hiss of pain through his gritted teeth, swallowing as she could hear the blood pumping frantically through her ears.
"To think, I have been reduced to having a child's nursemaid aid to me- I am NOT a child!" he sneered, bringing his arm back, throwing her back, away from him, the now blood soaked cloth falling to the ground with a wet sound, literally soaked. "I do not need you." His breath became labored as Malice tore off another piece of cloak to again apply pressure to the wound, again to be shoved, though him not even having the strength to throw her more than a few inches. "I SAID-" He had to stop short, barely able to muster through the pain enough to wheeze another breath, his now torn heart just pumping blood right out of his chest.
"I do not.. need.. you.. I need… no one." he struggled to speak, blood dribbling between his fingers as everything started to go dark. The woman, trembling stepped closer, kneeling beside him as his head fell into her lap, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, "But I need you.." her voice lacking any real substance, just a cracked whisper. His emerald eyes barely rolled to look at her before his eyelids fluttered a bit, his eyes half lidded as he went limp, her able to feel his weight rest on her fully, "L-loki..? My lord..?" she regret speaking those words nearly the instant they left her lips, knowing that he would not return them, not with a smile, as he did as a young boy, not with a sneer as he did as a young man, not at all.