TWO
Half Full
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The ship trundled through space like a bicycle with a square wheel. That is to say, slowly and very awkwardly.
Korg ducked through the metal carnage that had been a doorway to the bridge until Thanos had struck. He made it to the windows by the lump that was once the throne of a chair and stopped, swinging his new favourite club to lie on his shoulder.
"So a couple of the gladiators are wondering if we can squeeze any more water out of those frozen blanket thingies you hung out of the window," he said casually.
Loki, attempting to look less than defeated as he stood in front of the windows, his hands laced behind his back, didn't turn. "Why don't you out your head out of the window and check?" he asked politely - a little too politely.
"Nah - it's cold out there - that's why the blankets are covered in ice, man," Korg said cheerfully. "Do you think we could get a bit more water out of them? People are a bit thirsty, you know?"
"We all are," Loki said quietly. "Some for more than water, though."
"You mean revenge, right? I'm with you there. Miek barely made it out alive. I know that was because I kinda trod on him, but still, I wouldn't have done it if that witch woman hadn't been trying to—"
Loki's right hand shot up and his index finger pointed with all the mighty fury of a generously pissed off frost giant.
Korg paused.
Loki turned slowly. He closed his fist, putting his hands behind his back again. "Isn't there something else you could be doing?" he asked with a wide, calming smile. "Bringing good cheer and optimism to the liberated slave-gladiators, perhaps? Relief and humour to the surviving Asgardians? Hmm?"
"That's a good idea, mate. Thanks. You're always so positive," Korg said, before turning to walk off. Loki breathed a sigh of relief. Korg paused suddenly. "You sure you don't need me here? I mean, you seem a bit lonely all in command by yourself, and—"
"No no," Loki said hastily and convincingly at that, "I'm sure they need you."
"Ah. Is this a 'my people need me more than I' king thing?"
"Yes," Loki said gladly, pointing at him, "exactly that. You're right. How could I pretend when you see right through me?"
"Well it's a knack, y'know? I kinda see the good in people, even when they don't want me to," he said conversationally.
"Quite. Well, off you go then," he said with a happy smile.
"Thanks, man. If you get lonely up here, just let me know."
"Will do." Loki watched the Kronan walk back out of the room. The second he was gone he turned back to the window.
He stared.
And stared.
Something made him spin impossibly fast; he realised a dagger was in his hand before his eyes could find their target.
"Evening," Valkyrie said with a sly smile, from just beyond the doorway.
"Oh. You," he said, distinctly disappointed. Then he turned back to the window, the dagger losing itself in folds of either material or magic.
"Just came to see if you knew where we were," she said, stalking up to the ledge and standing by his shoulder. "Although it is touching that you have a knife ready whenever you see me coming."
"And I always will."
"Have a knife ready? Or see me coming?"
He furnished her with an indulgent smile. "Both, my dear."
"Promises, promises."
He turned to look back out of the window. "We're nearly there."
"How can you tell? Asgard must be tiny pieces of gravel right about now."
"Can't you feel it?" he asked quietly. "Something… otherworldly. Something that doesn't belong. Something just lying in wait for a chance to seize control. Something… close by."
"Maybe it's you."
He turned at the waist to appraise her and the improbable shape in her hand. She ignored him but he continued to study her. "You know, considering you expect me to lead the people who are left alive to some safe place, you seem very sceptical of my ability to do so."
"What tipped you off?"
"I don't know - maybe the bottle you seem to have found from out of nowhere. Is that your super-power? Finding alcohol?" he asked. She ignored him but it only made him smile. "Tell me, how much is enough?" he added.
She glanced at him but he turned to face her. "Don't start," she warned.
"No really - I'm interested. What does drink do for you, anyway? Drown out screams? Deaden your reflexes? Make you forget for just a moment?"
"Shut it, 'God of Mischief'." She noticed his look of surprise. "Yeah - I've been speaking to some of the rescued Asgardians on this ship, mister, and the only reason I think you can get us to safety is that you need safety too. Don't think I trust you, and don't think I won't gut you like a fish if you turn on any of us."
An unctuous, deliberate smile spread over his face and he turned to look back out of the window. "Amnesia, then. Well good luck with that. It doesn't last."
"Have you tried it?"
"I don't recall."
"You're not funny."
"You're not my demographic."
Her mouth opened but it stalled. She shook her head. "Whatever. How close are we to where Asgard was?"
"Not far," he said faintly. "In fact… It should be right around…" He turned and went back to the ruin of the chair. He pushed at the large wrecked button on its right-hand arm. "Ok - full stop!" he called.
Valkyrie looked out at the stars, but the ship did not seem to be slowing down. "Uh… I don't think they heard you."
"Hello? Engine people?" Loki called at the arm. "I said you can stop now!"
The ship sailed on.
Loki took a deep breath. "Oi! You there!" he bellowed.
"Hello," came a cheerful voice.
They both looked up to see Korg poking his head through the doorway.
"Korg," Loki said evenly, betraying a monumental effort to stay calm, "you said this chair worked."
"Well yeah, 'course I did," he shrugged. "Didn't want you to feel like the place was falling apart." A metal panel over the doorway chose that exact moment to peel away from its mooring and crash into the floor. He looked down at it. "No more than it is, I mean."
"Then get down to the engine room and tell them to stop this crate before we overshoot Asgard," Loki called. "And Korg - do not tell anyone we're here."
"Right you are," he nodded. He disappeared from the doorway.
Loki turned slowly and looked back at the window. "Now all we have to do is find her."
"You never did say - who 'her'?" she asked.
"You'll see."
"I hate it when people say that."
.
.
A glimmer.
Something of a ripple, not in space but in the feeling of the things in it; a gentle fingertip delicately touching at a raindrop, loathe to break the surface tension holding it together; a feather tumbling through the soft breeze before it lands on a surface so lightly a debate rages as to whether it's really there.
She fought her eyes open. She made them swivel. Everything was black - cold, pain, dark, hurting her ears with its silence.
And then a huge maw appeared as if from nowhere. It caved around her, cloaked her in a kind of darkness that was at least lighter than the Stygian dungeon.
Warmth - light - some kind of noise. She struggled to command her limbs, to control her environment - I must have control!
Her wrists registered pain and touch and heat and - something alive—
She screamed.
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Loki strode through the cargo hold, only to feel his feet falter as he realised possibly every single Asgardian left was lining the upper catwalks with naked curiosity. He turned and found Korg by the door on the ground level. "This is your idea of not telling everyone?" he accused flatly.
"I only told the one dude so he could help me fix the door," he shrugged. "Only he couldn't hear me too well, so I had to kind of shout across the makeshift living quarters."
Loki felt his eyes roll so fast it was a wonder they didn't suffer whiplash. He pulled himself together and then pointed to the large door. "Open it!" he called. "Stay back my friends - let me get her in!"
Valkyrie pulled on Korg's arm and drew him back beyond the threshold. A forcefield slammed down and protected them from the ravages of vacuum space as Loki grasped the shape that floated in through the only half-working door in the side of the ship.
He pulled it in, taking care to push it down close to the decking before he waved a hand in the air. Korg adjusted settings and the door began to close.
Eyes, heads, hands over packing crates appeared from nowhere as every survivor strained to see what was happening.
Loki guided the body down carefully as gravity and air were restored to the cargo hold around them and his charge. He pulled wayward hair - impressive hair, untameable in its punk attempt to stick it to the man - from the face carefully. He couldn't help an admiring smile touch his lips as he ran a hand down the metal armour of the wrist. Anticipating the first move, he weighed both wrists down as the face began to turn, began to restore its own colour.
"Here you are," he said, watching her writhe in and then accept the warmth, the light, the life of the cargo hold as her own.
Her mouth opened; the now closed room rang with her shrieking voice: "Hel-vegr!"
Loki blinked. "No, just a ship of Asgardians in need of your help."
.
.
Valkyrie stepped back from the forcefield. She bumped into Korg, who dutifully moved back for her but then came forward to watch the two people in the cargo hold. "You know her?" he asked hopefully.
"Do I," she breathed. "That's Amora."
"That sounds like a song." He paused. "You two friends then? Fought together or something like that?"
"No," she said, her hand reaching down to grip her sword. "Not together."
"Is she powerful though?"
"Oh yes. She's a witch."
"Oh hey - maybe she can fix my mate's leg. He got a bit of it chopped off when he was fighting those strange Chitauri soldier-fellas during that whole altercation where the ship kinda got lopped in half. Weird they only have Chitauri fellas. I mean, unless the fellas have little baby fellas it kind of makes you wonder where the she-fellas are. She-fellas? She'llas? Anyway, his leg - giving him a bit of trouble, so I hear - he'd welcome a witch to take a look at it, maybe fix it up a little."
"She's not that kind of witch," she breathed.
.
.
Her eyes sucked in the light, her mouth sucked in the air, her skin sucked in the humidity. Her eyes refocused over and over until she recognised the dark shape looming over her.
"Bzzzz—zzz—mmm—eee—off—yer—help."
"Help?" she echoed.
The shape drew back a way, the tight grip on her skin making it prickle with heat and pain subsided somewhat. Something moved a blockage from her eye and she realised she could now see with both.
"—This place?" she croaked.
Something pushed at her back and she was sitting upright. Her head shook quickly as if flapping water from her hair. This helped her put the universe the right way up and she then scanned the room in front of her for weapons.
"You're with friends," said a voice.
She froze. Her head panned left and right, her eyes took in the pale skin on her hand, keeping her upright, helping her. "Loki." The word was pushed from her by surprise.
"At your service."
A cough, an effort to stay upright - and then he was helping her steady herself. "Helping," she realised. "—What is it you want?"
"Ah - always the optimist," came the voice from behind her. "We can help each other, Amora. Shelve whatever plans you have - I know where there is an Infinity Stone and I need you to get it."
She coughed - this time out of sheer surprise. Shaking off the hands, she pushed herself to her feet and brushed down what was left of her rather dour prison fatigues. She looked down at them, the grimy grey cloth of the boxy top and loose trousers sticking to her out of worry at her present predicament. "First of all," she said, turning with such regal poise that several Asgardians watching from the upper catwalks let their mouths hang open in appreciation, "let's talk about food. I've been imprisoned, set fire to and most recently frozen half to - well, death." She shook her hair free and turned to find exactly who she expected standing behind her. "You owe me a hot hog roast sandwich and a pint of mead. Then we will talk about this Infinity Stone and why I shall possess it and not you, Loki Odinson."
Loki spread his hands, let them wave outward, and gave a demure bow of his head. "As you say."
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