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When Loki awoke, he found himself face down on the bed again, except this time without the ropes bound around his wrists. The room is darker however, as the soft glow of the sun setting glows through the open window. The smell of something sweet hits his nostrils and he's suddenly aware of how hungry he was.
The bed groans softly as he pulls himself up and sits on the edge of the bed. The pain in his back is still there, but not as crippling. He spots some clothes folded neatly on a chair in front of him. He doesn't like the idea of wearing clothes that belonged to a dirty old mortal, but they seemed much more comfortable on his back then his heavy leather. It was his own damn fault he was in this situation. He should have been more aware of what was going on around him. He had known that HYDRA existed, yet he had no idea how they had found him before Fury and his team had. Or maybe it was solely himself that was to be blamed. What if he was losing perception? What if the effects of the tesseract were wearing off again? He had already once gone cold turkey without it after the first attempt of taking over Midgard. This time though, it's effects seemed to be fading on their own. But something had to cause it. Was it Melanie?
Mel.
He stands up slowly and shuffles weakly over to the chair, pulling the loose white shirt over his shoulders. He was stiff, and the movement seemed to awaken some of the burning pain, but it was tolerable. He still wore the loose fitting pants around his waist and figured it would be too much of a pain to try and change them.
He walks stiffly to the open door and peers down the darkened hallway. Empty. He steps out and walks quietly down the hall, looking into each room for signs of life. Nothing. Most were simply empty bedrooms. One in particular wasn't made up neatly. The walls were pink with yellow flowers. There were some spots on the wall that were darker then others, shaped in rectangles were objects must have been. The bed was unmade and a half empty glass of water sat stagnant on the bedside table. This must be the room where Melanie slept. The last room at the end of the hall. The farthest away from his.
He hear's a clang from down stairs that catches his attention. He rounds the corner to find the stairs, and a light at the bottom. Grabbing ahold of the railing tightly, he makes his way down the wooden stairs, cringing whenever he hit a squeaky spot.
As soon as he makes it to the bottom, he sees her. Her back is to him as she stands in front of the kitchen sink. She's not moving and he realizes that she knows he's there, even if she couldn't see him. He steps fully into the light and stops, waiting for her to move.
"I know you're there, Loki," she says finally, her voice unusually bitter.
The edges of his lips twitch into a smile. "I suppose it's harder to sneak up on a blind man then I assumed."
He then spots a knife, it's silver blade gleaming in the yellow light, and her knuckles, white, as she strongly grips the handle. For some reason this bothers him deeply. Did she think he was going to hurt her? She was scared enough that she had a knife in her hand, prepared to fight back if necessary. Perhaps it was the way he acted when he awoke last time. She was his prisoner after all. Why would she have trusted him so quickly?
She turns slightly in his direction, quickly hiding the knife from view. "Remember I can hear every creak and moan in this house."
He nods as he makes slow, blatant steps towards her. She stiffens automatically.
"You decided not to bind me to the bed again," he says casually, trying to calm her nerves.
"Well I didn't want you to break the headboard."
He cocks his head to the side. "Why would I do that?"
"To get free."
"I would've just asked."
She snorts. "You're not exactly the, 'asking for help' kind, if I remember right."
He frowns. "Maybe you're right."
"I'm almost always right."
He watches as her shoulders begin to sag from their stiffened position.
"You're probably starving," she says quickly, turning quickly away from him as he draws close. He hears the knife clang loudly as she drops it in the sink.
She opens the tall white box and he can feel a small brush of cool air. She pulls out a plate with food on it and sets it carefully on the counter.
"I made some warmed up chicken with green beans and mashed potatoes. I wasn't sure what you used to eat in Asgard, and I'm sure it was a lot nicer then this, but it's all I could find with my hands-"
He interrupts her rambling. "A blind man made me food, how can I trust you haven't accidentally poisoned it?"
She laughs lightly. "I don't think trust is a personality trait we have in common so you can either eat it or make something yourself."
He smiles. "Well I'm sure it's better than my cooking. I've always had servants make me my meals."
She puts the plate of food in a smaller box, presses a button, and suddenly the plate is moving in circles as a strange buzzing noise fills the silence.
"It's called a microwave," she says after noticing my silence. "I'm guessing you don't have these in Asgard."
"What do they do?"
"They warm up your food when it's cold."
"How do they work?"
She laughs and once again he's surprised at how much he likes it. "I don't know! They just do."
It beeps suddenly and becomes dark. She opens the door and pulls out the steaming hot food.
"We don't need magic on Earth when we have electricity."
He laughs. "Yes, who needs magic when you have microwaves?"
They laugh together as he scarfs down his food. It was strange how casual he suddenly felt around her. One second she's his prisoner, the next they're laughing and talking like good friends. But she wasn't his friend. She was afraid of him. The knife was all the proof he needed.
"Loki," she says after they finish laughing about refrigerators. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
The question quite frankly takes him aback.
"Why am I being so nice to you? I could ask you the same question."
She frowns. "I'm your prisoner, remember? You needed me to join you in taking over the world. If you think that suddenly I've complied to your requests, you're wrong. This isn't me jumping on your bandwagon and riding to world take-over."
He stares at his empty plate. "I think, maybe, you could ask me that question a million times, and I would never be able to give you an answer. The tesseract shows you many things, for it touches everyone differently, but now that it fades from my vision, I can't tell you how I feel or why."
"Perhaps it was showing you all the wrong things. Maybe that Thanos guy was just manipulating you into doing something you wouldn't have done otherwise."
Anger suddenly bubbles up inside of him. "But it is what I want. I was born to be a king, I was disgraced, and neglected, and cheated of the throne. Thanos did nothing but help me gain my prominence."
She laughs without humor. "Seriously? The only reason Thanos is working with you is because he doesn't want to have to do all the dirty work. As soon as you have successfully taken over the world, he's going to kill you and rule just as he planned to in the beginning. He's just using you! I'm blind and even I can see that."
He jumps up suddenly, grabs her by the shoulders, pulls her up, and slams her against the wall.
"You have no idea what you're talking about!" he yells into her face.
"I don't?!" she screams back. "It's so cliche an idiot could figure out the ending! Haven't you ever seen a movie? Or read a book? The bad guy never wins! And the bad guy's accomplices, never get what they were promised in the end! Why can't you just get away from this and make your life better? Look at yourself! Your life sucks!"
He shoves her against the wall angrily. "I don't have a choice! This is who I am!"
"Everybody has a choice," she says slightly softer as she gasps for breath. "Everybody has a choice, Loki."
He shakes his head as he lets go of her and takes a step back. "No. No, I don't."
"Then why are we doing this?' she exclaims, exasperated.
He doesn't answer as he tries to reign in his anger.
"Laughing and talking like nothing's wrong? I mean, why do you still keep me if I'm never going to commit to your side? I'm useless, I'm a distraction. Are you saving me for him to kill? Are you going to let him torture me? I've already lost everything. My friends, my family!" Her voice cracks as tears begin to stream down her freckled cheeks.
"Will you just kill me now so I don't have to suffer later? Can't you see, Loki? I'm tired of death, I'm tired of killing. I'm worn out, I've suffered enough. Please, please just end it now!"
He stares at her, bewildered. "Why would I kill you? Is it because you think I'm a monster? Do you think that after everything, I'm suddenly going to turn into that monster inside of me and kill you? Is that what you want me to do?"
She gasps for breaths as she tries not to cry.
He takes slow steps towards her, letting his skin change into the icy blue monster hidden inside him. He feels the chill run through his body, the cold patterns begin to dance across his skin.
"If you could see me, you would be even more terrified. Your nightmares of my true nature would come true. You'd take one look at my face and scream in terror."
He suddenly grabs her hand and she gasps, both at the suddenness and at the bitter chill of his touch. He pulls her hand up and places it firmly on his rough cheek. He knows the cold is burning her hand, but he doesn't let her pull away.
"This is who I am," he growls, "I have no choice in this. Yes, I could let this monster kill you. Or I could leave you to Thanos, because I'm sure he would be glad to be rid of you. But I just can't let you go."
Her face twists in confusion.
"I don't know why, but I can't."
And suddenly his hands are on either side of her face, and his lips crushed against hers. He doesn't know what caused him to do this. But as his cold, hard lips smash against hers, he melts. The cold frost giant melts against her soft, molten lips. The fear of being rejected leaves him as soon as her lips react to his.
His lips are so cold he's burning her, but she doesn't stop kissing him. His ice cold tongue slips into her mouth and she jumps, surprised. He begins to pull away but she pulls him closer to her, letting her tongue tangle with his. Her hands move through his silk hair and down his neck. Everywhere she touches, the molten rock travels, melting through his ice skin, changing him back to his preferred form. He imagined if he opened his eyes, he'd see his skin steaming beneath her touch.
After a few moments, she pulls away, gasping for breath, her face still so close to his.
"If that's how you kill people, then... wow, that is one hell of a way," she whispers, her hot breath fanning out across his cheek.
He removes his now normal hands from her face and places them on the wall on either side of her head. He admires her flushed red cheeks, swollen lips, and soft pink eyelids as a small tear trickles down her cheek.
"I'm sorry," he whispers as he begins to pull away. She doesn't stop him.
"You know I haven't been kissed like that since my husband died. I'd forgotten how good it feels," she says, a small smile stretching across her lips.
"You wouldn't have kissed me if you had seen what I looked like," he says softly, not intending for her to hear.
She folds her arms across her chest. "Loki, I don't need my eyes to see someone. I can see who a person is just fine, and I wouldn't kiss somebody who wasn't as beautiful as the man I just kissed a few seconds ago. So there. Stop feeling sorry for yourself."
She turns away from him and begins to clean up the table where they ate without saying another word.
And for the first time in a long time, Loki felt loved.