Every Action and Word Counts

After

...

Death.

Death everywhere. The battlefield was filled with dead bodies. The Asgardian castle was ruined, destroyed. The former glory of this realm was gone. One could hear the whimpering sounds of the soldiers just before life left them. And their souls left for Valhalla.

Pools of blood. Smoke in the air. The despair was so thick one could have cut it with a knife.

Limbs were spread out. The dreams of the people were spread everywhere. So many who weren't coming home again. So many shattered families.

This was a godforsaken land. One could almost sense the rooting smell that was beginning to spread. Hours ago, this had been a full blown battle. Now there was nothing here. Just the faint minds of the struggling.

She walked over the broken people. The brave people who had fought until their ultimate death. It stung her heart. She was searching for him. The man she had sworn to protect.

He layed there, in a pool of blood. She was not sure if it was his blood or not.

She fell to her knees next him. He looked dead, her god.

Fumbling fingers made him smile faintly. They checked his pulse. A breath of relief left her lips. He opened his eyes slightly. He adored her for what she had done. That woman had walked over the dead, in search for him. The bow and the few remaining arrows hung on her back. She had been shooting... to kill? For him? Most likely. Oh, how he admired this woman!

She pulled him up to his knees. Worry flickered in her eyes. "You're not hurt, right?"

"No, just minor scratches." He chuckled. His voice was strained.

She rested her forehead against his. "I told you I would walk over a battlefield for you."

"And for that, I hold you dear." He grinned and swung his arms around her. Their relationship was doomed to fail, that fact made him grasp her harder. He knew well he wasn't allowed this feeling of content and pure... happiness. No, he was about to get punished in the worst way ever. She was going to be taken away from him. But they wouldn't be able to take this moment from him.

He buried his face into the redhead's hair, determined to remember the feeling. Forever.

…

Earlier

…

His hands were chained together by handcuffs smithed by the best in Asgård. Impossible to break. Impossible to escape from. The handicraft was both delicate and powerful. One could easily admire the work of the smith for days.

The handcuffs cut in his wrists painfully. However he didn't focus on the pain. Loki sneered at the guards when they connected his handcuffs with another chain in the floor. His hair had grown over the time in the dungeon, his glass prison, the unruly locks now touched his shoulders.

The room he was in was white, sterile and with an anonymous vibe in the air. He could be executed here and no one would know. Loki smiled at the thought, death didn't scare him anymore. Though boredom did. One of the muscular guards pushed him down in a chair.

"May I ask what the special occasion is?"

The guards grunted and placed another chair in front of him before they returned to their places by the door.

"A visitor maybe?" Who would visit him? His so called family? His father, the mighty Odin? His brother, the god of thunder, Thor? He disregarded them easily. The only remaining possibility was Frigga... His mother. Loki pondered on the fact that Frigga hadn't visited him yet. He had been fooled by his own imagination once. Loki could have sworn that she had been present in his cage. It had been so vivid, so lifelike.

The familiar sound of her rustling gown as she moved over the floor. He had been laying on his side in the bed. Loki hadn't dared to turn around to face her. He could swear that the weight in the bed changed and her fingers ran through his hair. Exactly the same movement through his dark hair as when he was little. Loki had closed his eyes to cherish the moment of bliss. Her fingers disappeared from his hair. He rolled over to tell her not to stop and found the room to be silent and empty of her. Empty of anyone, except for him. Loki still had the feeling of her ghostly fingers running over his scalp.

The door opened, and removed every ounce of the memory from his mind for now. In stepped a woman in her mid twenties. Loki's heart sank in his chest by the sight of the indifferent mortal. But he got his curiosity up when he noted the woman was followed by Thor.

"What owes me this pleasure, brother?" He practically spat the last, with a false smile on top. "Welcome to my humble dwelling, sadly I can't make you feel more comfortable, because of my current state." He lifted his locked hands as high as he could to emphasize his point. The chains strained. The muscles of the guards swelled.

"I'm not here for a simple visit." Thor stated, "Though I would prefer a meeting in a different constellation." He added with hand gesture towards the chained Loki. "It saddens me to see you like this, brother." He said the word 'brother' with complete sincerity, instead of pouring venom in it like Loki.

"Then what brings you here, if not to keep me company?" Loki's eyes sparkled.

"She does." He gestured towards the mortal woman.

Loki turned his focus towards her, a wrinkle appeared between his brows as he eyed her. She had strange eyes, brown with yellow tints, like a midgardian lion. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her whole appearance breathed of authority. She dismissed Thor with a flick of a hand. "I will take care of myself for now. Thank you, Mr Odinson."

"Call me Thor, milady."

A small smile appeared on her lips. "Only if you stop referring me as 'milady', then we have a deal!"

He nodded towards her. Almost unnoticeable they smiled in unison to confirm that the play had worked perfectly and they congratulated each other.

Loki eyed the interaction between them curiously. Thor was never this short-spoken. He was a true leader and would take command. It was hard to get him to shut up when he found something interesting to talk about, mainly war and the latest spar. Was it her influence? She sure was something special. She dismissed the guards as well. ("Thank you, but I don't think he will cause any harm, he's chained.")

The woman seated herself on the chair in front of him. The small smile disappeared and her professional attitude took the overhand of the situation. "My name is Gwen O'Hara. I work for an underlying organization of S.H.I.E.L.D. We specialize in the psychology behind terrorists and... well," her voice trailed, "The minds of demi-gods who wants to take over earth, I suppose, as well."

"Terrorist?" Loki tilted his head and smiled as sweetly as an angel.

He scanned her delicate features. Though she was not perfect, far from the standard in Asgård, she had a charming face. The slightly uneven lips were inviting and her softly crooked nose gave her appearance a certain character. The red hair was tied into a ponytail and she was dressed in 'proper' midgardian clothing, jacket, shirt and black pants. The black clothes contrasted her pale skin and she almost looked unhealthy.

Speaking of looking unhealthy, the dark circles under Loki's eyes stood out in his pale white face. Gwen stared straight into his hollow green eyes. She noted his pupils were fully dilated.

"You're not the conventional suicide bomber or kamikaze pilot for that matter," Gwen agreed, "This is something quite out of the ordinary."

"Flattering."

"I wouldn't exactly put it that way."

"Your choice, mortal."

"I do have a name." Her voice was stern now, demanding. "I would prefer if you would use it."

He chuckled. The laugh was almost like a hiss. "Mortal. I am not taking your orders."

"Excu-"

"I know exactly why you're here. Your motives are clear as a day. I can read you as simple as any book. You wish to interrogate me, find out about my secrets, use them against me.

"You sure hit the head on the nail, rather quickly." Gwen confirmed. "The organization's aim is to prevent something like this to happen again. We want to intercept this sort behavior before it's too late."

He rolled his eyes. "You might as well leave. I do not wish to tell a disgusting midgardian about my personal thoughts."

Mental note; Loki is still exactly as mad as he was in New York. His stay here hasn't changed him.

She flinched by his sudden outburst. "They didn't exaggerate when they told me you would be extremely rude." Her eyes narrowed. "Do tell me, how many visits have you had since enrolling in this cozy dungeon?"

This time his eyes narrowed and his lips became a thin line.

"How much information about the outside have you encountered during your stay?"

Silence.

"The world is changing. Or rather, Midgård is changing. You made quite an impression in your stay last time."

"And so was my aim." He leaned forward, "You humans were made to be ruled. Some of the pathetic creatures must have realized it was their fate-" His voice purred.

Her left hand connected with his right cheek. Loki's head followed the direction of her smack. "Barely stung," he informed her with as much dignity he could muster.

"I'm terribly sorry," Gwen mimicked his purr, with a little less finesse, "I must inform you I'm right-handed." Her right palm flew out and connected with his left cheek. Loki let out a hiss.

"Done now?" He raised a brow. Stupid mortal. Little petty creature.

"I could continue for a thousand years and it would still not be enough as your punishment." She leaned in. Loki also leaned in with a growing smirk on his lips. A mischievous sparkle lit in his dead eyes.

The chains rattled as his hands shoot out. Gwen had placed her hands a little bit too close for his reach. She had practically served her wrists on a silver plate. Loki's long and pale fingers forced her wrists together. She gasped. He worked quickly and pulled her close.

"Scream!" He whispered in her ear.

"I do not fear you!" Gwen retorted with all the stubbornness she could find in all of her cells.

"You should. You are beneath me. Not even worthy the dirt under my shoes." The grip on her wrists tightened. "Scream then, for the guards to save you, as the little petty human you are!"

"I can take care of myself."

"I doubt-"

Loki's hands experienced intense pain, like he was trying to hold fire. He stared at her wrists, they looked like normal wrist, not exactly like they caught on fire. He loosened on the grip, the pain died down, he looked up, in her face. Gwen was already prepared. Her forehead shot forward and hit him on his nose. Whether it was the pain or the burning sensation on his palm or perhaps the surprise that caught him off guard, she would never learn. However he fell back on his chair with a confused expression on his face.

"I think we're done now." She brushed of invisible dust of her shoulder. As if her words were the guards' command, they returned to the door. "Next time I would like to meet him with the glass wall between us." She informed them.

"Did he harass you, milady?" One of the guards asked, with hope in his deep voice, as if he waited for a reason to finally strike the fallen prince.

"No, not at all," she sing-sang, "It's for his own safety." Gwen winked in direction towards Loki.

He stared at his own palms, with no trace of fire at all. The indifference he had felt towards her was gone. No ordinary human from Midgård could be able produce pain from thin air like that. Curiosity rose in his chest. A way of escaping the dreadful boredom showed itself and he was sure he would take it.

A/N: Hello there! If you got this far, you're welcome to tell me what you think in the box below.