Stark white met her waking eyes, followed by a rush of sound as her ears came to consciousness, and she felt someone squeezing her hand. Turning her head, she winced, and Zach's face softened. Eva smiled instinctively, but the beeping and sterile scents had her frowning.

"Oh."

"You're fine," he reassured her gently. "It's a concussion, no breaks, no bleeding. I might have overreacted, that's why you're in here. But they said if you woke up with no issues there was a good chance you'd be alright."

"How long have I…?"

"Not long. Only about an hour."

"And you're lucky," came a soft, cheerful voice as a nurse popped her head in. "Your brain scans are normal, as I'm sure your lovely young man will tell you. It's concussion. You slipped in the shower, I hear?" Moving into the curtained cubicle, she began checking vitals, papers set down on the table.

"Er… yes," Eva answered, somewhat dazed. Her head was throbbing a little, and her vision was shifting as she tried to focus on her fiancé. "Can I have some water, please?"

"Sure, sweetheart." Zach reached over for the jug and poured her a cup of water. "I'll pick you up plenty of ice later after we get home – "

In her blurred state, Eva barely caught the sight of the nurse plunging a scalpel into Zach's neck. He half-screamed, half-choked – a sound Eva never wanted to hear again – and slumped sideways, clutching the wound that had begun to spurt scarlet. Eva scrambled up, leaning towards him, half sobbing in pain and panic. The nurse turned towards her, expression nothing short of the cliché murderous.

"You whore," she hissed. "You fucked that alien and did nothing to stop his violence. You slut. And you get away scot-free? No."

Weakly, Eva backed away, desperately trying to search for something to grab, but she couldn't see properly and her head was pounding and everything was too much and oh god Zach –

There was another scream, female this time, and Eva heard a horrible thud as something – someone – hit the faraway wall. The room went black, and the ground vanished. Her breath snagged in her throat as she seemed to fall up, as if something was pulling her without even touching her. It tugged at her spine, her torso, and if she hadn't been so panicked and probably moving at a speed faster than humanly possible, she might have thrown up.

Gold. She was suddenly lying on cold, hard gold. A humming reverberated through this odd floor, and as she forced her eyes to focus, she saw Zach, pale and bleeding.

"Fuck… Zach…"

Footsteps, heavy, powerful, and a familiar face peered at her.

No. No, we can't be –

Her brows creased, at once wholly disbelieving, but in her desperation she feebly pointed towards Zach.

"Help… him…"

She fainted a second later.

Of all the things to arrive in the Observatory, two injured mortals were not on Heimdall's expected list. Particularly not one who was close to death, his life spilling out in rivulets along a floor so newly constructed after those brothers nearly smashed it to ruins. A more materialistic being might have wept. Heimdall merely noted it before summoning healers. Odin would not have been happy to have two dead humans in Asgard, the guardian knew that much. And it was the woman who had caused a faint spark of worry in the man.

"Eva Manning," he whispered, watching as the healers worked tirelessly. "What have the Norns planned for you?"

The King had of course summoned Heimdall to explain the commotion, yet as Heimdall left the healing rooms, he saw Odin striding in his direction, seeming surprisingly concerned. Heimdall had never known the King of Asgard to be so worried – even Jane Foster's mishap with the Aether had not caused the stress Heimdall suddenly saw on Odin's face. And if he was worried, Norns only knew what it meant.

"How is she?" were the first words out of the elderly King's mouth. Heimdall glanced towards Eva, then to her mortal companion.

"It is he whom the healers are most attentive to," he murmured. "An injury to his neck. The lady Eva – "

"Will live," Eir spoke up from where she and her attendants were working, causing the two men to enter the hall and move towards the two occupied beds. "She has mild bruising to her brain, nothing more. The boy, too. The wound to his neck is not deep."

"And you say they simply appeared in the Observatory? Without use of the Bifrost?" Odin asked, turning to Heimdall. The latter bowed his head.

"Yes, my King. I do not know how or why, but clearly they needed aid."

"Clearly," the elder Asgardian sighed. "Make sure they are comfortable, Eir. I would speak with them when they awaken."

The healer inclined her head. "Of course, my King."

Heimdall was dismissed then. Odin lingered a moment longer, before turning on his heel and walking away.

Only when he was in his private chambers did he remove the mask – at least, for himself.

Loki stared at himself in the mirror, the long, curling hair, the piercing green eyes. And he did not like what he saw, or what he felt. To know that Eva had been attacked was one thing. But to have her back in his life? That was quite another. He'd been caught off guard, for once. And, of course, there was that dislike that had instantly arisen upon seeing that hideously glittering ring upon her finger. He knew damn well what that meant, and though he was quite used to not seeing her, to know that she had moved on so quickly was jarring, galling – especially when he had wed her a mere year before. Possession snarled in his chest, a filthy jealousy that he had not felt so strongly since Thor had found Jane Foster. It was a sensation he immediately loathed, and sought to quell. Emotion was weakness. He'd learnt that much.

However, whoever dared harm her would be punished, that was certain. It had been a risk, leaving her to the wrath of Earth; he'd been well aware of that fact. But with Sif and her companions keeping half an eye on her – as well as Heimdall – Loki had worried less and less. After all, he had a façade to maintain and a realm to rule. That was far more important than pining over some mortal girl.

Not that he was the type to pine.

But.

He found himself by her bed as night fell. Quite how, he knew not, but as he saw her face in the flesh for the first time since his capture, something in him softened. She was still as captivating as she'd been when they'd first met. Even for a being such as him, that seemed an age ago. So much had changed; so many times they'd exchanged the upper hand.

Slowly, he bent, and ran a single finger along her cheek. The texture was so soft and so familiar that nearly recoiled in shock. How many times had he stroked her skin before? How many times had he allowed himself to dwell in her beauty?

"Lena," he whispered. "Lena, Lena, Lena. Why are you here, I wonder?"

A shift in the corner of his left eye had him tilting his head, and his lips thinned.

The boy. If he'd been the man of years before, Loki would have ended his life in a second. Not so now. Eva would be beside herself if she awakened to find her betrothed – Norns, what a horrible word – dead, and he might even feel a sliver of guilt. Might. Having a conscience was not usual for the imposter king, not anymore. A year in prison had rid him of that sort of thing. Useless feelings. Not worth a king's attention. Not even for his almost-queen.

"Mine no longer," he mused. But then, had she ever really been his to begin with?

The boy moved in his sleep again, mumbling Eva's name, and Loki rolled his eyes. Norns help him if he was to let this imbecile live. Eva would kill him if he didn't. Odin had never been in her good books regardless; this mortal's death would hardly rectify that. There was a sort of sadistic pleasure at the thought of Eva loathing Odin as much as Loki did, however. The old fool.

Bored with the boy, Loki returned to Eva, watched her chest rise and fall steadily. Eir had been wonderful; Eva barely looked hurt, though he knew such injuries were not always visible. Still, Asgardian healing was far more advanced than Earth's. He doubted she would wake with little more than a slight headache. The thought filled him with an irritating sense of relief, though he resisted the urge to touch her again. Giving into temptation never solved anything, and Eva was dangerous. Any being that could stand up to Loki as she did was a danger. Perhaps not physically – the woman was fragile in comparison to any Asgardian – but he was not blind to how she had made him feel. That weakness again. No, it would never do.

"Welcome to Asgard," he murmured, the tiniest smile playing on his mouth. "Oh, I have missed you."

No one saw him come. No one saw him leave. Nothing changed, save the dawning light hours later. No one could ever know what the king of Asgard hid in his old, aching bones or his war-torn heart. It was too precarious, too violent a revelation that could divide the realm and instigate war.

There were only two who might ever discover the truth.

And one of them was asleep in the healing rooms.

A/N: I have officially finished my undergraduate degree! I'll be working all summer, but I hope to be more speedy with future chapters. Let me know your thoughts!

Lightning xoxo