A/N: Oh my gosh, thank you thank you thank you for everything! For sticking with this story, following it, reviewing it, and favoriting it. It's... I appreciate it more than I can say. Thank you all, so so much.
Polaris: I know what you mean. Some people out there are uber-sensitive. Whenever I am told anything that might be remotely offensive, I just brush it off.
Wolftattoo: I know, right? It's sad, but I know why writers do it: drama. And besides, there has to be a love triangle, right?
Thank you, I liked that part too. :) Katia is one of my favorite characters, although I might have her be seriously hurt by the end of the story...
Part I: Shall We Dance?
Chapter 7: Of Threats and Jealousy
3rd POV
Nikolai had been plauged by the nightmares for three days now.
They came under the cover of darkness, despite his futile attempts to stay awake, slithering around the room like serpents of shadow, always keeping to the dark corners that lingered no matter how many candles he lit.
And when his eyes finally drooped shut, they came out and curled themselves almost tenderly around his neck, hissing softly in his ear, causing horrific images to flash in his mind, torturing him.
Katarina stood in a circle of light, and there was a fencing foil in her hand, except that it was razor sharp instead of the blunted ones they used for her training.
"Kill her." Malekith's voice, his tone mocking, sneering. Nikolai became aware of the matching foil in his hand. "Kill her, or I will make her kill you."
Nikolai looked in horror at his sister, standing there so impassively, her face showing none of the affection that he knew she held for him. There was no recognition. She was the same Katarina he saw every day, except, when he looked into her eyes, they were not the light blue that he knew. Instead, they were ink black, like holes.
Malekith's glittering eyes, staring out of his sister's face. It made him want to scream.
Kill her? Kill his sister? The notion was unthinkable, even in a dream...
And then she moved suddenly forward, flicking her wrist with the ease and familiarity of a master, slashing at him, her sword in a deadly silver arc.
It hit him where she had intended, right on the shoulder, the steel biting deep into his flesh. The prince of Vanaheim gritted his teeth to keep from crying out.
The pain awakened something inside him. Anger. A monster, clawing at his insides, howling to be released. Rage coursed through his veins.
And then he moved quickly, more quickly than the Malekith-Katarina could comprehend. Without a shadow of a doubt... or a brief thought of hesitation... Nikolai took his own weapon and drove it deep into his own chest.
He woke up with a gasp, hands flying to where he felt a dull ache in his core, but he found no injury. It was a dream, a nightmare, no more. He let out a deep, shuddering breath, and smiled grimly at his almost-victory.
I refuse to play by your rules, Malekith. And I refuse to hurt my sisters, real or not.
Yet his heart sank when he glanced out the window. It was still dark, with still a few more hours to daybreak, when dawn would pain the sky with pinks and reds to chase away the black. He tried to suppress the despair he felt. Would these torments never end...?
There was a creak of wooden floorboards and his eyes flicked immediately to the sound, narrowing, missing nothing. He suddenly noticed the hunched shape at his bedside.
His thoughts jumped to the witch in the hut, and, without thought or hesitation, he lashed out and wrapped his long fingers around a pale throat, squeezing hard, anger blazing in his eyes.
But then the clouds covering the moon shifted, blown away, and moonlight drifted across his "attacker's" face. Nikolai hastily relinquished his grip, cursing his stupidity.
OoOoOoO
Katarina gasped and spluttered, massaging her neck, breathing in deep lungfuls of night air. Instantly, she felt Nikolai's tentative hands stroking her hair, and he whispered, "I'm sorry." He sounded, surprisingly, on the verge of tears. "I'm so sorry, Katarina."
She looked up to see his face, ashen and drawn, and the moonlight spilling onto his golden curls made them seem gray. He looked like an old man, not the strong brother that she knew.
The princess patted his arm reassuringly, knowing somehow that she had to be the older sibling this time. "It's fine, Nikolai." But in truth, hidden behind her calm words, she was deeply troubled.
She had gone to her brother's bedside when she heard him cry out in his slumber. At first, she had thought it was Katia, suffering again from a nightmare that might have lingered from her illness, despite it being three days past. But, upon realizing that it had been her brother instead, worry had flooded through her.
Nikolai hadn't had nightmares since Queen Lydia- their real mother- had died, and that had been years ago.
"Brother," She said softly, gently. "What is it that troubles you so?"
Even in the dark, she heard his voice close off, see his hazel eyes harden. "It is nothing."
"But-!"
"It is nothing." He hissed.
That tone of voice told her that he would not say a word of what he had dreamed of. So she left, without another word.
Nikolai watched her leave, feeling something bubble in the pit of his stomach and rise through his throat, threatening to emerge. He bit the inside of his already ragged cheek so hard the sharp, metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. He held back the urge to scream.
To scream in anger and frustration and fear.
Anger that he would forever kneel before the nightmares Malekith sent.
Frustration that they never seemed to stop.
Fear that he would hurt his sisters when Malekith hurt him.
OoOoOoO
This time, it was Katarina and Loki that faced off, staring holes into the chess board with their intense gazes. Thor lounged on his side on a nearby couch, resting his head on his propped up elbow. He watched them curiously as his brother made his next move.
"Check." Loki smirked.
The princess mirrored his expression, thankful for the mental exercise made strenuous by her opponent to distract her from the events of last night. "Not quite, my prince." And she swiftly castled, leaving his piece open to an attack from her bishop. He was forced to retreat, smiling. It had been a long time since he had had a challenge.
"How is it that you are able to play a match so lengthy against Loki?" Thor asked in wonder, shaking his head in disbelief. "You should be defeated by now."
"How is it that you manage to get up after every time Hogun pounds in your skull with his mace?" She countered, without taking her eyes off the game. "Your brain should be oatmeal by now."
Loki snickered as his brother's face colored. It had also been a long time since he had met someone as sharp as Katarina.
Thor heaved a dramatic sighed. "Why is it that whenever you open your mouth, all I hear are poisonous words directed at me?" He asked in a mock hurt voice.
Feeling bold, she replied, "Why is it that whenever you open your mouth, all I hear are your flirtatious attentions? Even now." She moved a piece on the board. Loki glanced at it and rolled his eyes.
"I think we had better call this a tie." He said dryly. Thor craned his neck to look at the positions, and resisted the urge to laugh.
Both of them had managed to lose every single piece besides their kings, which stood with one square of space between them.
"You seem to have met your match, brother." He jested. Loki waved a hand dismissively.
"Nonsense. I let her beat me. It would be ungentlemanly if I defeated her within the first three moves."
"Oh, and it's not ungentlemanly to boast about your supposed victory had you been playing for real?" Katarina teased, and she snatched his black King off the board before he could take it to put the pieces back. He was forced to look into her eyes, and she grinned. "Admit it. Tie."
"I was not playing to win."
"You're such a liar."
Loki raised his eyebrows. "Very few people can tell when I lie, Princess Katarina of Vanaheim." He said softly, leaning forward very slightly and locking his eyes with hers. "What makes you think that you are one of them?"
"It's very simple, Prince Loki of Asgard, God of Lies and Mischief." She said seriously, matching his tone and demeanor. She also leaned forward. "It's something about your eyes."
And then it was a full-out staring contest, each opponent daring the other to stare longer. Thor interrupted it with a hacking cough.
"If you two are finished," He said, leaping from the couch. "We can go eat."
"Always thinking with your stomach instead of your head, right?" Katarina broke the stare and started to put the pieces back. Her hand brushed Loki's, who was doing the same, and she felt her skin tingle from the contact.
The three of them headed to the dining hall, Katarina between the two brothers.
OoOoOoO
A few days later, Katarina found herself again in Asgard, this time in the training room with Thor, Loki and their friends, Sif and the Warriors Three. Well, more accurately, Thor's friends. She had seen the way Sif would half-glance at Loki, a slight scowl on her face.
"Would you like to learn how to fight with a spear?" Thor pulled one from its place and tossed it from hand to hand before throwing it to Katarina.
Everyone was surprised when she deftly caught it, not batting an eyelash. She ran her finger over the tip, blunted to prevent serious injury. "There is no point." Was all she said.
There was silence, interrupted suddenly by Loki's chuckle. The prince had been leaning against the far wall, separating him slightly from the rest of the group, his arms crossed, an impassive expression on his face. But when Katarina had spoken, softly, slyly delivering her almost nonexistent pun, he could not help himself from laughing.
Katarina smiled as well. She had been doing that more and more often, making subtle jokes with the way she worded things, just to hear the Dark Prince's laugh. She liked his laugh.
"I do not understand the joke." Thor said, frowning as he looked from Loki to Katarina.
"It is a pun." The princess explained. "The spear, blunted as it is, has no point, but the phrase, no point also refers to no purpose."
"Ah, I see." Was all Thor replied. And then he said, "Why don't we go riding?"
Everyone agreed, tired of fighting each other, and went to the stables.
OoOoOoO
Loki walked by the back of the group, watching Thor talk Katarina's ear off by the front, while she pretended to be interested in whatever he had to say.
"You seem different, of late, Prince." He turned around to see Sif standing behind him, surveying him.
"How so?" Loki raised an eyebrow, ceasing in his walk.
"Just... different." Sif stopped as well.
Loki turned towards her, giving her his full attention. Once upon a time, when they were children, he remembered that he had used to have a crush on Sif, despite her indifference to him. Now he knew that she had always liked Thor.
His lip curled in scorn. It was always Thor. "In a good or bad way?" He asked in answer to Sif's remark.
"I have yet to know." Her eyes flicked to Thor and Katarina, and Loki wondered how she must be taking this, her "crush" so obviously smitten with another. He assumed she was used to it by now. Katarina was not Thor's first.
She surprised him, by saying, "Swallow your pride soon, my lord." And then she brushed past him, following her friends.
Loki looked after her in confusion. Swallow my pride? What does that mean?
OoOoOoO
Thor offered Katarina a hand when he mounted his pure white horse, gesturing for her to sit behind him.
"Do you think me incapable of managing my own mount, your highness?" She asked, not taking the hand.
"Do you not wish to ride with me?" He replied.
Katarina smirked and decided to be polite, taking his hand and he hoisted her behind him. "Ride as fast as you wish. You do not need to be slow on my account."
The others were still saddling up. She noticed that Loki stroked the mane of his black horse, whispering in its ear, and she wondered if he could speak to it. She had never tried using sorcery to talk to animals; now she was curious.
"Make haste, my friends!" Thor's horse pawed the ground in impatience.
"We are not all as swift as you." Fandral grumbled. "Give us half a moment."
"You have used up five moments. Quickly!"
"So impatient, brother." Loki pulled himself onto his horse and steered it so that he was next to Thor. "Give them time."
Soon, the rest were ready, and they rode off. Katarina found that the momentum would throw her off, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around Thor's waist to keep herself from falling.
OoOoOoO
As they rode through the field, Loki noted the way Katarina had grabbed onto Thor. He felt something inside him clench, and he gritted his teeth.
Was this jealousy? Of Thor? Why? He thought that he had gotten over this long ago.
Perhaps it was because she rode with his brother instead of him.
Swallow your pride soon, my lord. Sif's words echoed in his head. And that was when he knew.
His pride was keeping him from claiming Katarina as his own. It held him back, for he would not be able to bear the teasing look of Thor if he did.
And he cursed his pride, thinking, If Thor takes her first, then know it was because that you held yourself back.
OoOoOoO
Nikolai was practicing his swordplay in the training room when it happened.
The shadows bent, forming the figure of the one who haunted his dreams: Malekith.
The prince did not stop training. "What are you doing here?" He asked flatly. "I don't think I called for you, and I do not think I have any more favors to ask."
"You think you control me, human?" Malekith asked scornfully. "I do as I please."
"Mm, and what if my stepmother were to walk in the door right now? What if I were to yell and scream for the guards?"
"Then I would kill them all, and then take Katia."
At the mention of his sister, Nikolai stiffened, turned and glared daggers at the dark elf. If looks could kill, Malekith would be dead before he hit the floor. "You said she would live." He snarled, cold, righteous anger in his eyes.
Malekith smiled, barring his teeth. "I said she would live, although in what condition is up to you. There are plenty of ways to hurt a person that do not involve killing, my prince." Nikolai's title was nothing but mockery on his lips, and he said the next words with relish. "I can torture her, put her in a sleep that will drive her mad, take away her beauty, carve away the features of her face..."
What little color Nikolai had in his face drained as he paled in fury, but said nothing. The dark elf's voice was so rich and powerful that he could clearly see the things happening to Katia as he said them.
"What is it that you want?"
"The package. I thought you would need clarification." Malekith's lip curled. He had won this round. "I never told you who to deliver it to, or when."
"Then tell me now."
"Patience, patience. It is for Prince Loki."
"What do you want with the prince of Asgard?"
"That really is none of your business, as the Midguardians say. Besides, do not pretend that you care: the one the kingdom needs is Thor, yes? He is the firstborn, so the second-born will not matter in the slightest."
Nikolai scowled. "You are wrong. Perhaps you, Malekith, with no sense of the value of life, would not understand, but I am concerned for the prince's welfare. No matter how dark people say he is, he is still the son of Odin."
"Or is he?" Malekith grinned, internally cackling.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, is he really the son of Odin? What similarities do you see in their faces? Not the golden hair, the sky blue eyes, or the same build. Even the talents are different."
"Are you accusing Queen Frigga-"
"Heavens, no. Frigga is quite loyal to her husband."
"Then what-?"
"Perhaps you shall find out later." Malekith changed the subject. "The package... wait for my signal. I shall tell you when to deliver it to Prince Loki. Do not let yourself be seen."
"And why not?"
"Because if you do, your sisters will suffer." Malekith started to disappear again. The last thing to go was his smile. "Besides, you did barter for Katia's life, but what about Katarina's? I don't see anything in our contract about her..."
With a scream of fury, Nikolai hurled the sword at Malekith just as he disappeared. He threw it with such force that it stuck in the wall on the other side of the room.
All Nikolai could feel was dread. He knelt to the floor, panting with fear and sudden exhaustion as the toll from sleepless nights finally showed through.
What had he done? What had he done?
A/N: Mm, getting kind of dark. Just to let you all know, there is a plot (I'm following the events of "Thor", "Avengers", and "Thor, the Dark World"). And it's kind of twisted, so get your tissues ready. Plan for heartbreak.
Oh, and by the way, I'm not the kind of author that cries as I kill off my own characters. I cackle maniacally and have tea with demons.
Yeah... my attempt at humor... just ignore it.
Review, favorite, follow.