Author's Note: Hi all! Dialogue that is [bracketed and italicized] is in Chitauri language, meaning that Galawyn and Thranduil cannot understand it.

Also, merry Christmas!

oOo

The wait, as it turned out, was less of a wait and more of a pause, as no sooner had the suggestion left the elf king's mouth, a Chitauri dropped from the hole in the ceiling. Unfortunately, due to the cramped nature of their cell, someone had to be in the landing area; today was not Loki's lucky day (but what else is new?).

The Chitauri stepped off of Loki unapologetically, addressing Thranduil, "[Who are you?]" To which Thranduil replied politely, "I'm sorry, sir, but I believe we've encountered a language barrier. I have not the faintest clue what you just said."

This response caused the creature to distort its grotesque face into an expression that was most likely annoyance, and it turned and snapped a command at Loki. Loki did not bother to acknowledge that it had addressed him, so the Chitauri landed a heavy kick to his ribs.

"Whoa, there!" Galawyn protested over Loki's gasp of pain. "Let's not get physical—we just met." She squirmed against her bonds with nothing to show for it.

"He wants me to translate," rasped Loki. "He asked you who you are."

Thranduil looked at the demanding figure standing before him as he answered, "I am the Elvenking of Mirkwood, the realm which a number of your kind recently attacked. The girl is one of my subjects. May I inquire as to why an unprovoked attack was made on a peaceable people and what it is you want with us?"

"You know," said Galawyn as Loki relayed these words to the Chitauri. "It's sometimes too easy to forget that you're a politician."

"I will take that as a compliment."

"He says," Loki interrupted, "That you will be sent back unharmed…" He trailed off, eventually finishing in a changed voice, "On the condition that the girl and the demigod are left here and you relinquish all claim to them."

Thranduil's eyebrows—his awesome, intense eyebrows—drew together. "If I should not find this deal to my liking, what would then be the outcome?"

Loki relayed the message, and then winced as he listened to the reply, saying, "I will neglect to translate that. Just know that these creatures are volatile and unsuited to civil conversations."

Thranduil sighed, thinking. "What do you want with her?" he stalled. "She is of no intergalactic significance." The Chitauri answered, and Loki, instead of translating, bit back a harsh reply: "[She's mine! So help me powers that be, you will never touch her!]" His response merited another kick, this one producing an audible crack as bones snapped. The Chitauri proceeded to toss Loki over his shoulder and make a final statement to the elves: "[That will be all—for now.]"

A rope appeared from the ceiling, he grabbed hold of it, and he and Loki were hoisted out of the room.

"Loki!" Galawyn cried as he disappeared from her view.

"That went remarkably poorly," Thranduil observed.

"What can we do now?"

"There really is only one thing within our power to do," he confessed. "Care to guess what that is?"

"Wait?"

"Unfortunately."

oOo

Loki, in a haze of pain, was less aware of where he was being taken than of the blood that was beginning to leak from the corner of his mouth. In his dizzying state, he could hardly focus on anything more complex, until he was rudely made aware of the external world as he was thrown unceremoniously to the ground.

All the air hissed out of his lungs at the impact, and by the time he had regained his breath, his eyes had recognized the figure before him.

This. Was. Bad.

I am going to die, Loki thought with his usual optimism. He is going to kill me, and that will be the end.

"I once told you something, Asgardian, that I hope you have not forgotten."

Loki did indeed remember those words of not so long ago—they had worried at the back of his mind constantly since the moment they were spoken: If you fail, if the Tesseract is kept from us, there will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where we cannot find you. You think you know pain? We will make you long for something as sweet as pain.

A brief review of that statement's checklist:

Loki had failed; the Tesseract had not been delivered to them.

Loki had tried to run, to hide in an unknown realm amongst an unknown people, and they had still found him.

Loki thought himself to be in pain currently, and he also believed he had a firm grasp on the concept thanks to extensive previous experience.

And now they were going to…

As aforementioned: This. Was. Bad.

However, Loki had some experience with handling difficult situations; this was, after all, the same ingenious demigod who had once convinced an entire wedding party that Thor was a woman!

"I remember well your words," he said to the Other, forcing coherency from a brain that insisted on stalling slightly. "And I cannot comprehend why you would be as incredibly dull and shortsighted as to have betrayed your most vitally important ally!"

The Other laughed mirthlessly, an ugly, grating sound. "You cannot possibly hope to twist this in any way that would convince me to spare you. For you have failed an epic fail, Loki, somehow allowing a ragtag group of humans to defeat the most fearsome army Midgard had ever seen! It takes talent to fail that epically! Had the average idiot been at the helm of that army, he would have conquered with ease! I thought you were supposed to be cunning!"

His defeat still stung a bit, but as Loki surmised that this tongue lashing was not the actual torture that was planned for him, he held off on wincing just yet.

"Really, I'm less pissed at you for not delivering the Tesseract than I am at myself for investing so much in the most fail-tacular being to have ever existed! Don't worry though; I'm still going to take this out on you."

Loki growled, hoping to come across as menacing as he could as a bloody, broken pile of demigod on the ground. "You offend me by actually believing that I, Loki, god of mischief, could have fallen so short of my goal. Any who have so much as heard of me know that I always get what I want. My first pass at my prize hit an unforeseen complication—it happens. But for you to think I had no backup plan? Really? Now does that sound like me?"

"What, then, is this plan of yours?"

"I prefer to play my hand a tad more closely than that. However, I did accomplish part of what I set out to do with the army, and I am now merely waiting for the opportune moment to act on the advantage I have acquired. Everything is set in place; you will have your precious Tesseract, and I will yet subjugate the Earth to my rule!"

The Other weighed his words as Loki desperately prayed to whatever powers may be that he wasn't called on his bullshit.

"Bullshit!" the Other declared at last. "Humans have proven that they are not the pathetic wretches you claimed them to be! They are unruly, and therefore cannot be ruled. You are every bit the pathetic failure you have shown yourself to be, and I will hear no more of your pathetic lies!"

"Send them back!"

"Excuse me? Oh, you must mean your two foreign friends? Certainly, with the tribute their return will fetch, we'll take them back." He motioned to someone out of Loki's view. "That's not to say we won't have some fun with them first."

Loki could not put up much resistance as the Chitauri obediently shoved a gag in his mouth.

"And now the fun begins."

oOo

Pain and darkness.

"They…"

"AH!"

"…not…"

A sob.

"…owe them…"

A scream.

"…explanation."

oOo

Althadar looked back and forth between the tall redhead and the short redhead.

"You can't do that!" the taller woman objected.

"And just who the fuck are you to say that I can't?"

"I'm Tauriel, a loyal citizen of the realm who has sworn her fealty in the service of the Elvenking, whom you are not."

"Of course I'm not Thranduil. Do I look like I'm fucking Thranduil? Because—"

"Caraphin," Althadar warned.

"Anyway, as Thranduil is busy being kidnapped and can't come to the phone right now—"

~BREAK FROM REALITY~

"What's a phone?" asked Althadar.

~BACK TO REALITY~

"—someone needs to step up and be in charge in his absence."

"And you somehow think you are the elf to do this?"

"Yeah, I do."

"And pray tell, why is that?"

Caraphin went squinty-eyed—never a good sign. "Because, bitch, I am a ginger. I have awesome ginger powers. And don't even pretend that you've got them too! Honestly bitch, you are not fooling anyone with that fake-ass red hair. THAT CAME FROM A FUCKING BOTTLE AND YOU KNOW IT! LOOK AT YOUR ROOTS WHAT WHAT WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? Therefore I am supreme ruler of the world. Got it?"

"Excuse me," Tauriel fumed, "I happen to—"

"Don't even! You are a FAKE. Tolkien didn't even create you, bitch! So stop acting like you've got some important role to play, we all know better! You're just some thirsty Mary Sue! Now scram before I set your head on fire and teach you the reality of gingerdom!"

Tauriel huffed and departed, leaving Althadar and Caraphin alone.

"You know," he observed, "If she had been a male elf, you wouldn't have had a problem with her."

"True," she allowed. "Now be a dear and make the preparations for my ascension to supreme ruler of the world."

"Anything for you, light of my life."

Caraphin's eyes narrowed once again. "Was that supposed to be a ginger joke?"

Althadar pressed a kiss to the top of the ginger head in question. "Have you ever known me to make light of my burning love for you?"

"Okay, that one was definitely a ginger joke!"

oOo

"I bet," Thranduil broke a long silence, "Caraphin will have completely overrun and subjugated the realm by the time we get back."

The attempt to distract the distraught girl failed as she forlornly asked, "Will we even get back?"

"The bet presupposes that we do."

"Okay," agreed Galawyn halfheartedly.

"Stakes?"

"If you win, I'll stop drinking at parties," she suggested, knowing that any commitment to reining in Caraphin would go unfulfilled.

Thranduil nodded in assent. "And if you win?"

"If I win, then you have to…" A devious smile overtook her features. "Start any future conversations you have with Loki by saying something ludicrously sexual!"

He raised an awesome eyebrow. "Deal," he said at last.

A few hours later saw Galawyn dozing, her head resting on Thranduil's shoulder. She was startled to alertness when a person dropped into their cell.

It was another of those monsters. It said something in their strange, foul tongue, and handed a folded scrap of paper to Thranduil. It left right after that.

The elf king unfolded it and scanned it quickly, handing it to Galawyn with a solemn, "It's for you."

The shaky handwriting, at places smeared with blood, was hardly legible:

Galawyn~

I'm truly sorry that this has happened to you. It is quite exclusively my fault, and it is an exceedingly poor repayment for all you have done for me out of naught but the kindness of your heart. No good deed ever goes unpunished.

Sweet girl, please understand.

All my life, I have been an outsider, never having a place where I knew I was truly welcomed, and among friends. To experience this so poignantly for the first time among your strange, surprising race was unexpected, and never before have I known unexpected things to be so pleasant. Every moment, really, was a new adventure, and I never tired of it for a minute.

These vile creatures plan to send you both back—eventually. I believe they anticipate some kind of tribute from the elves in exchange for your safe return. I wouldn't fight them—if they come in their full force, they will do much damage. I'm sorry; it would have been better for your people if I had never set foot in Mirkwood.

I am going to die. I'm sorry I will not see you again. Give my best to Caraphin and Althadar, and the king as well.

I am not a person normally much inclined to show affection. You should find yourself someone who is. I know you have dreamed a dream of falling in love, and maybe fate shall be more obliging to you than it was to me. Now though, in the eleventh hour, I find myself overcome with the sentiment that I have for so long despised, and I cannot help but believe…

I could have done it!

For you!

And maybe even for me too.

I could have done it, but since it has been fated otherwise, hold onto that dream of yours~

"'…for I know that it will come true,'" the crying girl finished in a whisper. She let the letter fall from her fingers. "I would give up that dream, just to see you again."

The elf king stared resolutely into the darkness. "Our lives are a sorrier place for his loss. Let us remember our too brief time with him always. Always."

"Always," she agreed.

oOo

It was almost a week later that the two starving, bruised, and traumatized elves were returned by a squadron of Chitauri to the realm of Northern Mirkwood. The elves quickly arranged that a great ransom be paid in exchange for their return, and they received the two kidnapping victims back into their ranks as the Chitauri happily made off with their treasure.

"Where have you two been?" questioned Queen Caraphin the Supremely Awesome from atop a palanquin born by a dozen scantily clad male elves. "And why is my queendom now out a bunch of treasure to those gross aliens?"

"Um, my illustrious queen," muttered one of her bearers. "They look to be dead on their feet…medical attention should probably be the priority."

"Fine. Do that then."