"Prepare him. The time is growing short. And I am growing . . . impatient."

Gamora nodded to her adoptive father, eyes downcast in feigned deference. Her only mark of resistance was the slight tightening of her jaw. She turned and walked steadily out of his presence and down the adjacent stairs to the large underground chamber. A million thoughts raced through her brain. She considered the price of disobedience, but her stomach roiled at the thought of what lay ahead of her. Nebula was more than willing to mete out the kind of torture and coercion that Thanos demanded, but it secretly horrified Gamora.

Her boots made no sound as she descended the staircase to her objective. She hated doing this, hated what Thanos made her do. It was bad enough that he had twisted both her and her sisters into such malformed creatures, hands soaked in the blood of dozens of people across the galaxy. The irony was that Gamora was sure that Nebula hated Thanos even more than she did, would gladly sink a dagger in his heart if given the opportunity, but Nebula eagerly killed for Thanos, causing death and destruction in her wake. And now, Thanos ordered the both of them to torture and twist yet another person to his will.

00000

The prisoner feigned unconsciousness, but couldn't help but tense when the assassin entered the room. It's the one with the long hair, he thought dully. He actually preferred the other one, the bald one that spat and snarled and simply inflicted pain. Pain, he felt he could resist. But the other one, Gamora was her name, she would seem almost reasonable. Her words could be so very soft and convincing. He could feel them tugging at him, urging him to comply, to obey. She avoided hurting him, he noticed. She'd strike him obliquely whenever a guard was in the room, blows that barely glanced off of him, never leaving so much as a bruise. When they were alone, she wouldn't touch him. She would sit on the opposite end of the cell and just watch him. She wouldn't rail against him, wouldn't threaten, wouldn't berate him.

She would just talk.

He slowly felt his mind being unmade by the pressure of her words. He felt himself come undone by the threads of his psyche that she had pulled. Each time she entered his cell he got that much closer to agreeing, that much closer to becoming a willing cog in Thanos' machinery, a willing participant in his grand scheme.

But still, he resisted.

Thanos wasn't the first person he'd dealt with after falling through the abyss, but he was by far the most unpleasant. The last thing he wanted to do was to become his servant.

He stiffened slightly, standing up a bit straighter as she drew nearer. He had no idea what kind of magical enchantment was placed on his bindings, but the chains restricted his movements and his use of personal magic. Normally, he was allowed to sleep on a filthy pile of rags on a low cot in the corner at night, but after last night's particularly brutal session with the other sister, she'd left him chained up. He'd spent the entire night standing, not sleeping a wink, his whole body aching.

"Good morning, Prince Loki," she said evenly as she entered his cell once again.

"Is it morning? I'd hardly noticed. I really would talk to the cleaning staff if I were you. There seems to be a distinct lack of standards among your servants," he replied glibly. He used his words as a weapon, as his only form of defense against her.

She sighed. "She left you like that all night?" she asked.

"We were having such a good time. I don't think she wanted it to end," Loki said darkly, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"Guards!"

A contingent of chittering beasts arrived, more insect than anything else. There was nothing soft about them, all hard shells and sharp edges. Without wanting to, Loki shrank from their touch.

"Unchain the prisoner from the wall and secure him to his . . . bed," she commanded and they swarmed around Loki, freeing him from the wall and roughly chaining him to the cot.

"Well, this is so much better . . . . I'll have to recommend this establishment to all my friends," Loki said, staring up at the ceiling, avoiding her gaze entirely.

She said nothing until the guards filed out of the room. "It doesn't have to be like this. You could be king of your own world. Every luxury restored to you. Why do you resist him? You know that in the end, you'll just agree. Why go through this?"

Loki looked over at her, eyes narrowed. "Are you really that obtuse? How stupid do you really think I am? If Thanos is really bent on the destruction of everything, how long would it be before Midgard was swallowed up by his madness? Yes, I'd be king for what? A decade, perhaps? Less? And then, everything would lie in ruins and waste."

"So, you're playing the hero now? A man of honor? You're going to save the universe by thwarting Thanos' plans?" she asked. She began to pace around the cell, clenching her fists.

Loki shrugged and looked away. He'd given up on the idea of being good. His plans to make himself out to be a hero on Asgard had ended in ruins. He was content to just ignore her, ignore her prodding. He was tired of their verbal sparring.

"You're not the only one," she said simply.

"What? What are you going on about?" Loki asked, looking back at her.

"He'll get rid of you and just find someone else to carry out his plan. There are always others."

"So be it," Loki said tightly.

"Stubborn," she blew out a breath in frustration. "Why are you always so stubborn?"

Loki couldn't help but smile. "It's part of my charm."

"In the end, you'll just obey him. You'll do what he wants. You'll follow his orders, carry out his commands. In the end, no matter how strong you think you are, he'll break you," she said, her words soft and wistful.

"And what makes you so sure?" Loki asked snidely.

"He broke me."

Author's Note- I have planned this as a one-shot and marked it complete. However, I may circle back on it and expand it some time in the future. I hope you enjoyed it!