This is a dark little one shot that came to me following a discussion with my husband about what would have happened to Loki on his journey to the cave in the events that led up to "Keeping the Stars Apart". It fits into my second story "Till Death Us Do Part", and takes place alongside Chapter 8, in the 24 hours immediately preceding Odin's funeral.

WARNING. This story contains scenes detailing the aftermath of a violent assault, from the point of view of a witness – NOT the victim. If this is not your thing, if this is a trigger for you and especially if you are under age – move along people, nothing to see here – the plot of both stories will still make complete sense

I would really love to know what you think of this if you do read it.

MM x

Dalan finished his tour of the West Barracks at precisely the wrong moment.

With the Old King's funeral tomorrow evening, and dignitaries from all over the Nine Realms descending like flies round a turd he had more than enough to worry about already. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing. He was acutely aware that the King's younger brother was back in Asgard for the first time since... Dalan's mind swerved from that unpleasant thought. The less time he had to ponder that subject the better.

The Gods knew, the nightmares were bad enough - sometimes there wasn't enough ale in the city to let him sleep at night. So walking out of the stables, and bumping straight into the subject of those nightmares was enough to completely ruin the rest of his day. Moreover, Prince Loki was looking indecently relaxed and happier than Dalan could ever remember seeing him. The reason for this changes was in all likelihood the petite brunette with sparkling brown eyes, that he was bickering with in an intimate way that left absolutely no doubt of the nature of their relationship.

"Dalan!"

Loki gripped his arm in greeting, his eyes bright and clear.

Dalan's world pitched and rolled uncomfortably. He was cold, it was dark and the smell of blood and vomit was overpowering. In the darkness he could hear someone screaming, begging for them to just end him. He could feel his hands starting to shake again..

"Dalan?"

A thin strong hand was on his shoulder, "Are you well my friend?"

With a wrench, he dragged himself back to the present, discretely wiping the cold sweat from his hands, and hoping they had steadied.

"Aye My Lord. Well well, Prince Loki. It's good to see you back, and looking so well."

Prince Loki drew the brunette forward, proudly. "Dalan, let me introduce my – Lady. Lady Hermione Granger, of Midgard, meet Dalan, now Captain of the Palace Guard. He has been with the Guard since Thor and I were boys. He could tell a few tales that both of us would rather keep quiet I suspect."

Dalan looked down at Hermione, and was disconcerted to find himself the subject of a penetrating stare. He got the uncomfortable impression that Lady Hermione was not fooled in the slightest, and she was not going to give up until she had the truth.

ooo0ooo

Sure enough, when Dalan arrived at the Barracks, at the crack of dawn the following morning, Lady Hermione was waiting for him.

"Can you spare me a few minutes please?" Her manner was polite and respectful, but Dalan wasn't fooled for one moment. He was a servant, and she had probably just left a Prince of Asgard alone in his bed.

"What can I do for you my lady?"

They walked around the stables, taking advantage of the fact that most of the stable hands had yet to arrive. Stroking the nose of the handsome chestnut that was now Loki's favourite mount, she turned back to Dalan.

"I had a long conversation with the All Father yesterday Dalan. He informs me that you were one of the group of men that took Prince Loki to the Mountains of the Moon. And moreover, he went on to tell me that you are the only truly decent man in that group, which is why you are still here and not running for your life. He also told me that the reason Prince Loki is alive today is entirely down to you. For without you he could never have rescued him, and for that alone you will have my everlasting gratitude.

But yesterday, when we met unexpectedly, you were so shocked to see him that I thought for a moment that you were going to black out, I have been in war Dalan, I know what a flashback looks like."

Dalan found him impaled on a pair of fierce and intelligent brown eyes.

"What exactly are you hiding? What is it that you are not telling us Dalan?"

Rude or not, Dalan could not take any more. Without a word he turned abruptly on his heel and walked away.

She caught up with him in the hay store of the stables. He was seated on a pile of bales, looking as though he was about to be sick. His face was grey, and his hands shook uncontrollably.

"Lady Hermione, please don't ask me You're a lady, and you're clearly in love with Prince Loki, if you'll pardon my speakin' freely. I have nightmares every night about what 'appened. My wife is threatening to throw me out, an' my kids won't come near me. She says I'm not the man she married, I drink more'n I should to try to make it go away, but I can't. And I don't understand 'ow he could have moved on from it. I don't reckon any man could 'ave got over that. You're clearly a lovely girl, and he is obviously in love with you and I'm glad've it, but I just don't understand. It's like someone's just taken the memory away.

Hermione sat down suddenly - fighting a wave of nausea herself. She wasn't that innocent. Deep down inside, she had probably always known. Loki was a Prince, and a Mage, but he was also as proud as Lucifer, and known to be difficult, different. Stripped of the trappings of power, and the magic that protected him, chained and helpless he would have been an easy target for five men with something to prove.

Biting her lip she drew in a long ragged breath, trying to calm herself. She knew what could happen to those perceived as 'helpless' in times of war. But her mind shrank from the reality of what that meant. And Dalan was right. How could Loki possibly have got over it so quickly?

'It's like someone's just taken the memory away..."

The light dawned...

"Of course" she murmured, "Professor McGonagall."

She turned back to Dalan, saw the strain in his eyes, the greying hair and the tremor in his hands he tried so hard to conceal. Taking a breath, she came to a decision.

"Dalan – I can help you. If you want me to. Would you like me to take it away?"

Dalan stared at her, stunned. "Can you do that ma'am?"

Hermione pulled an upturned bucket over to him, so that she sit, could look him in the eyes. Closing her eyes she attempted to gather her fractured thoughts, to focus. Don't think about what happened, focus, how can you help this man. Don't think about what Loki went through, focus on helping this man.

She took a deep breath. "Close your eyes Dalan, and focus very clearly on the memories you want me to find. If there's anything you don't want me to see, just picture it behind a locked door" Hermione closed her own eyes, and followed the golden thread of her magic into his memories.

She was only too aware of the danger of doing this kind of magic. If you lost control, couldn't stay completely objective you could end up getting sucked into the other person's memories so that you ended up an unwilling passenger in their nightmares. The art of was to concentrate, to focus on the memory you were looking for, but to be an observer, keep your barriers up. Walking through his head, she could see Dalan's home, his wife and children. The fight that they'd had the night before, the chaotic detritus of a normal life. But in the distance, she could hear someone screaming, broken with desperate wrenching sobs. There was a fine red thread of memory heading in that direction. Refusing to consider who it was that she could hear, she resolutely followed the thread, and the sound.

As emotionally involved in this as she was - as shocked as she was by the implications of Dalan's words, she never stood a chance of staying objective. There was a strange dragging sensation somewhere around her diaphragm and without warning she was surrounded by darkness. Panic threatened to overwhelm her. She was in this memory... She didn't want to do this, didn't want to live through what he had seen, what Loki had experienced.

There was a voice just behind her ear, low and threatening. "You just stay out of our way Dalan, and there won't be any call for us to fall out. It'd be a terrible shame if you was to find a knife between your ribs on the way home Might even need to pay that lady of yours a visit when we get 'ome. 'E's just a snotty little princeling. Let the lads 'ave their fun, and everyone's happy."

Hermione's blood froze in horror, while flames of rage roared in her brain.

'a snotty little princeling..." Oh, she would find this man. Find this man and turn him inside out, an inch at a time... and enjoy - every – single - moment. He would never touch anyone else - man or woman - when she was finished with him.

The scene shifted, and the screaming started again...

She – or rather Dalan – was huddled behind a large rock, his hands over his ears. Even that was not enough to block out the laughter and lewd suggestions of the men, or the desperate cries of their victim.

After what felt like hours, the men came back, ostentatiously rearranging their clothing, grinning and laughing. Away from the light of the campfire, Dalan was barely visible. Once the others were settled around the fire, he rose quietly and tiptoed in the direction of the screams.

The silence now was so very much worse.

As Dalan's eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, Hermione could see a pale huddled figure on the ground. Most of his clothing ripped off, his legs and back streaked with blood and other less mentionable stains, Loki was a pitiful sight. But he had clearly fought them, extensive bruising was forming on his pale skin, in particular a large bruise on his ribs, about the size of a man's knee, and hand shaped bruising on his arms and the back of his neck were already clearly visible.

Now she knew how his ribs got broken, and possibly his cheekbone. He had fought them so hard that one man's knee had broken his ribs. She had always assumed that the chains in the cave had taken the flesh from his wrists. Now she knew that the wounds had been there before they even arrived.

His head buried in his arms, Loki was crying now. Quiet, heart wrenching sobs, not wanting to attract attention to himself. It was the sound of a man with nothing left to lose. These men had taken the little he had left away from him, and tomorrow they would deliver him to a hideous, and agonising death. A death that would likely take months if not years.

Dalan took his warm travelling cloak and spread it over the worst of the damage. Crouched beside the prone figure, he stroked the sweat and blood soaked hair - rough comfort, but he couldn't bear to leave Loki alone like this. Something was tickling Dalan's face. Reaching up, Hermione realised that he was weeping.

Weeping...

Dalan. She was here to save Dalan. Loki was already safe, probably still fast asleep in the Palace.

It was the man whose mind she was inhabiting that needed her.

Using every shred of her mental strength, Hermione wrenched herself out of the memory. The horrors she had seen had left her a roiling mass of grief and rage and pain. She had to be calm if she was to do this properly. Raising her wand, she found the quiet place within her. The place where Loki, warm and safe and happy, was still sleeping. Her heart, and the root of her magic.

Just a whisper Hermione, too much and you could wipe half of his life's memories in one fell swoop.

"Obliviate"

Seconds later she was back in the barn, and Dalan was asleep on a hay bale. Reaching out, Hermione shook him, gently.

"Dalan?"

Slightly unfocussed eyes looked up at her. "Good morning ma'am. Bless me did I fall asleep? Now what was I saying..."

ooo0ooo

Hermione was in deep trouble, and she knew it.

It wasn't that she regretted helping out Dalan. The poor man had clearly been falling apart, at least now he had a chance of rebuilding his life.

But now she knew more about Loki's history than he did, and she really wasn't sure that she could carry on as usual. She would give everything she had to save him from that memory, to keep him as he was, whole, happy, and oblivious to the horrors that she had seen.

Hermione leaned on the balcony, just outside the Throne Room, breathing deeply, trying to stay calm.

"Hermione, are you well, you look troubled...?"

She turned to see the King of Asgard, leaning casually against a pillar.

Conscious of the other members of the court around them she decided to play it safe. "Your Majesty"

He smiled, "Thor, please, Hermione. You're practically family"

"Thor. Can we speak privately please."

He offered her his arm. "Have you seen the palace gardens?"

ooo0ooo

Once they could be sure that they were not overheard, Hermione turned to the King of Asgard.

"Thor, I know what happened to Loki"

To give him credit, Thor didn't bat an eyelid. "Of course you do Hermione. I told you that night two years ago, it has never been a secret."

Hermione huffed – frustrated. "Thor, I spoke to Dalan this morning. More than that, I've been in his mind, I've seen his memories. And removed them. He at least will finally be able to sleep at night.

Thor's eyebrows shot upwards...

"You saw his memories?"

Hermione smiled weakly "Witch, remember. Don't worry I haven't lobotomised him. It's possible to remove very specific memories, and implant false ones, if you know what you're doing...

...but you already know that don't you?"

Thor was silent, waiting to see where she was going with this.

"The night you brought Loki to me, you must have been in the Head's office a while before I arrived. You probably didn't know for certain what had happened, Dalan was very discreet, even when the secret threatened to destroy his life and his family. But like me you had your suspicions. That was why you asked Professor McGonagall to modify his memories. You couldn't take everything from him without wrecking his mind, but THAT – that horror you could take away."

She turned away from him. Hands shaking, fighting for control. The sounds, smells and emotions she had experienced that morning were threatening to overwhelm her again.

"And now I've seen it. All of it. In hideous detail." She covered her face with her hands. "I - Dalan sat with him afterwards you know. Once he stopped screaming, when they were done with him. There were five of them Thor. FIVE." Her voice cracked. "He fought them tooth and nail. So hard that he broke bones." Thor's face was frozen...

"It was the night before they arrived at the cave. He lay on the ground, most of his clothes ripped off covered in blood and bruises and... well, you can imagine.

Then he was crying. Really quietly, like there was nothing left." Her tears came now, helpless wretched tears for a wrong that was long gone and past mending. Instinctively Thor reached for her, letting her cry against his shoulder.

"I can't leave him Thor - I can't, it would destroy both of us. But I don't know how to move past this. I don't know how I can see him, knowing what he's been through and not be different."

Hermione's grief was giving way to a boiling rage. How could anyone do something like that... She could hear that awful voice once more "Just a snotty little princeling..."

She looked up from his shoulder, eyes wet, but blazing now with fury. "Who are they Thor. Where are they, Heimdall will know won't he?"

Thor gave a small smile. "And why would you want to find them Hermione?"

Hermione hafted her wand, with a grim smile...

Thor needed nothing more. Her smile spoke of flesh stripped from bone, of precious body parts removed slowly and methodically. Of screaming bloody vengeance none of which would bring her any peace. Fortunately for the soul of this remarkable (and frankly terrifying woman), that would not be necessary.

"Two years ago Hermione, when I took the throne of Asgard, I told the five men in question – officially - that they had a night and a day to leave Asgard, or they would never see another sunset. I lied".

Hermione looked at him stunned.

"I haven't seen what you have seen, but I knew enough of what those five animals did to a helpless man, unable to do anything to defend himself. They didn't even bother to hide it" He shook his head "I think that they truly thought that I would be impressed. No prisoner deserved that. But this was not just any prisoner." His face was dark with fury. "This was Loki" his voice cracked with emotion. "This was my baby brother. No matter what he had done, it was my job to protect him.

Their wretched souls did not see another dawn. I sent all of them to Hel. Personally.

And I enjoyed every moment of it. I am sorry Hermione..."

ooo0ooo

She had come to a decision at last.

Thor was in her confidence, and had agreed to keep Loki busy for a few hours. In the meantime, Hermione was heading back to the Bifrost.

She hated to have to do this, but she needed to see the one woman that could help her.

ooo0ooo

Some hours later Minerva McGonagall sighed as she watched Hermione walk happily down the drive, returning to Asgard. She would be back in plenty of time for tonight's funeral ceremony.

Tonight they sent the soul of a monster to the stars. For this was as much Odin's fault as the scars on Loki's back and mind, or the years of bitterness and estrangement between brothers. All for the failures of a father that had nearly broken his youngest son.

She had told Hermione that she could remove her memories without seeing them. That she had done the same with Loki. Once she had removed all memories associated with the assault - on Hermione's instruction - she had implanted a clear vivid memory of a break in at the Potions Store, of a message sent to Asgard, asking Hermione to return and verify that nothing serious was missing. Lacewing Flies and Boomslang skin. Someone was making Polyjuice Potion...

She had lied.

The detail of the memories she had experienced when she removed them from Loki and Hermione would remain seared into her memory for the rest of her life. But it was a deal she had happily made.

When Hermione accepted Loki – and she would, Minerva had no doubt – they would have millennia together. Happiness, children, love, family. Both of them had enough horrors in their past. There was no need to make things any harder for them.

She couldn't give them a clean past. What she could give them was a future...