It was absolutely freezing, and Lucy couldn't move her body a single inch. The blinding lights forced her to keep her eyes closed, but she continued to try to keep them open. Her head was pounding and she felt an intense burning in her chest. It felt like she had swallowed fire and the embers continued to burn right next to her heart. She wanted to scream, but she found she had no control over her mouth.

She could hear dozens of voices all blending and falling out of sync. Her mind was a dizzying mess and she pried her eyes open. Faces blinked like flashing lights as Lucy tried to wrap her head around the words that were slurring throughout the room. Cold fingers drifted over her like thousands of little spiders, crawling and inching their way over her goose-bumped skin.

She felt her muscles shake uncontrollably from the cold. Every inch of her skin was aflame, every breath a stab to her ribcage. Her arms were constricted by leather straps that cut into her arms. She felt the warm blood trickle down and drip to the floor. She looked wildly for William to help her, tell these people to stop touching her and wrap himself around her.

She felt pain slice right down the middle of her torso as she tried to scream, tried to fight. Where was Will? Why couldn't she find him, and why couldn't he help her? She needed him.

Her stomach churned with acid that began to burn her throat. She knew the feeling all too well – she was going to vomit. She clamped her mouth shut and tried to focus on anything but the pain. She thought of a smile, two beautiful green eyes, warm hands caressing her.

And there he was, shaking her free, his face right next to hers. He pressed his cheek against hers, warm and soft. The voices grew louder, the hands tickled over her faster, no matter how Will tried.

"Lucy!"

She took in a breath and shot up from the bed, Lucy ripped off the bed covers and dropped to the floor. Slowly, she crawled to the bathroom, trying to breathe. But her throat had seemed to swell and she couldn't catch her breath. Her entire body was freezing, shivering at every desperate crawl. She clamored to the bathroom and rested her head against the seat of the toilet. She heaved until her stomach ached.

"Lucy darling," she heard, a whisper of a voice. She felt two strong arms hold her to a strong chest, and a heartbeat keep her breathing in sync. She felt dozens of blankets wrap around her shaking body, and a tender kiss on her forehead.

"You have to breathe Lucy darling. Try to stay awake now," the voice told her, velvety smooth and deep. A hand stroked back her hair from her sweating face.

"Will," she croaked, her voice raw and gasping.

She needed him to hold her tightly, remind her that is was just a dream. Painful and terrifying, but only a dream.

She was shaking far too much and her entire body was on fire. Sweat dripped down her flushed face and she murmured and muttered nonsensical phrases. Loki didn't understand what was happening, but he knew it wasn't normal. Not for an Asgardian and definitely not for a mortal. From every pore she was exuding absolute fear and pain, giving off any energy she had left.

It was almost as though she were dying.

She moaned in pain and Loki only grasped her tighter. What had brought on this attack? Just moments before she slept perfectly still. Her lids didn't flicker, her lips didn't quiver…had she seen something in her dreams?

"Little bird, you must keep breathing. It was just a night scare darling. I am here and that is all."

He began to feel her thrashing limbs come to a still quiver. She kept her eyes tightly sealed, but her cries ceased to a bit of a mumble. Her heart, her small heart, began to find a rhythm. Slowly, her large, dark eyes fluttered opened.

"Will," she whispered once again.

Loki loathed that name, despite how beautifully she said it. How long until she called him Loki?

"I'm so cold," she begged.

Loki held her tighter to his chest and tried not to scoff at the irony. A bastard frost giant trying his hardest to warm his mortal lover. What kind of sick mischief had he gotten himself into this time? It seemed his was on the wrong side of the butt of his own joke. He was such a trickster he fooled himself.

Slowly, he fell back to bed, Lucy cradled against him. He felt her ribcage rise and fall with each labored breath. She writhed and turned her swaddled body around, her face inches from him now. Her fingers crept around his jaw, and slowly, carefully, she kissed him. Her felt every ounce of pain and fear slice him in a dozen pieces. But he took the pain with pride, knowing her spirit was lifting with every graze of each others' tongue.

Slowly, the layers of blankets were untucked from her until both were naked, skin gently pressing together. Every buck, every kiss, every graze, he felt the pressure build more and more on his back. He could feel slicing pain rip him apart, but he didn't shy away.

He watched as the color returned to her pale face. Her eyes sparkled a bit more than before, and her voice was much stronger. She was no longer sweating from fever or moaning from pain – no, both resulted from pleasure now. He felt her grasp grow tighter, stronger. Her back arched and her lips parted with sighs.

It was this odd feeling of connection that drove him mad. He could feel a flow of power, of emotion drive right through him like a blade, piercing him right in the chest. She sighed her last and fell next to his side. Slowly, carefully, lovingly, he took in every each of her skin. Bruises, blue and black, spotted her entire body, as though she had been attacked. Gently, he ran his fingers over every once curiously.

"Little bird," he murmured. "What has happened?" he asked cautiously. Sleepily, she turned her face toward his.

"The dream," she muttered before drifting back into a slumber.

Loki wrapped his hands around her shoulders and shook her back into consciousness. She inhaled sharply and her eyes opened once again.

"What do you mean 'the dream'?" he asked urgently.

Perhaps Lucy had more than just a knack for reading emotions.

With awaken eyes, Lucy looked straight at Loki, a cutting glance filled with fear. Tears brimmed in the corners of her red eyes.

"Tell me Lucy, what did you dream of?"

Lucy buried her head in his chest, tears wetting his skin. She sniveled and he felt his heart ache a bit.

Odd, he didn't notice he had once of those until just now.

"I was tied down like some sort of animal. There were so many voice and hands, and it hurt so terribly bad, Will. I tried to find you, but even you couldn't help me."

"It was just a dream, love. It's all over now, I promise," Loki told her, stroking her cheek, wet with tears. "I won't let any harm come to you, little bird," he promised firmly. Lucy looked up at him with her dark, hypnotizing gaze. She shook her head demurely.

"Don't ever make that sort of promise, Will."

Loki felt an icy stab right to his chest. Lucy averted her eyes and avoided his gaze. He slipped a finger under her chin and brought her face to his.

"I will never let anything harm you Lucy," he repeated with much more strength and assertiveness in his voice. He kissed her once again and watched her eyes close without protest.

He decided that if he could spend his life in one moment for all eternity, this would be it. But time refused to stop for them. Without hesitation, with a stutter, it clicked on. Those five days had turned to three far too quickly. Time was a weathered soldier, never stopping at the face of battle. It would keep fighting no matter how everything else trembled. Every hour tolled the same as before. No one was more significant than the other in the eyes of time.

He feared he would never love Lucy this way again. War and death would drive them apart. There would always be a reason as to why they could not be. She was a mortal, but not just any mortal. One with great gifts and abilities, and a heart of the purest gold.

And he was a traitorous bastard who never got what was rightfully his. She would quiver at his command, but would she love him the same? Would she fear him with every fiber of her being? Would she loathe him for destructing all she ever knew, for lying to her with that silver tongue of his? Or would she love him with the same selfless heart as now?

He never wanted this – he never wanted her. She was foolish, emotional, unreliable…so where down the line had he started to care for her? Was it truly love at first sight? Or did he save her only because had something to gain? Well, he was wrong either way. It seemed that he was only losing by loving her. He could not have her for much longer. This world would come to an end very soon and such moments as these would cease to exist as well.

He heard the voice of Odin echo in his head a million times. He was just another relic, only good for a bit of a show. Well, he would show that damned man – he would have it all. The throne of Asgard, a beautiful Queen, and an army under his command, loyal and brave. He would do It because he had no other choice.