Desperate

Thor was like a shooting star in the stormy Asgardian sky, flying with all the speed in the nine realms. As soon as Ingrid had told him where his Alyse was being held, he'd called Mjolnir to his hand and had been soaring from the palace grounds.

From inside the palace he hadn't realise the effect his dark mood had been having on the world outside; the rain had stung his face as he flew through the air, lightning flashing and thunder rolling ominously above his head. He hadn't meant to make it that way, but it wasn't hard to grasp how it had come to be. Thor had been distraught. He wasn't in the best control.

Alyse's house wasn't in a district he would have deemed obvious to find. Certainly, alone, it would have taken him a while. It was still within view of the palace though, but only just.

For Thor, it took minutes.

His boots landed heavily on the cobbled street ground as he descended, the wind whipping his hair around him. It took him seconds to get his bearings.

Ingrid's description of the house ran through his head and his eyes scanned around him, scouring the houses. It was difficult in the darkness. His storm clouds had blotted out what little day light had been left and now that the sun had fallen regardless, the streets were dark, bringing blackness and shadows everywhere he looked.

Curling his fingers around his hammer, lightning flashed in the sky – long enough for him to see what he was looking for. The family crest of Alyse's household broke the smooth curve of one front door, just a few households from where Thor stood.

Anger swirled in his veins as he growled quietly, deep in his chest. His eyes locked on that door. He strode forward with long, heavy steps, heart pounding inside his chest.

He echoed that pound with his fist on the door, almost breaking it down in the process. It was all he could do not to smash it apart.

His eyes were fixed in a narrow stare for whoever would answer him, convinced he would have to argue and threaten his way through to Alyse. Her father wouldn't exactly be accommodating, that was for sure.

But the door remained unopened.

His patience was thin, but he mustered enough to knock aggressively for a second time.

By the time his fist was back at his side he was already visualising how he would bust in, smashing through the door…but he didn't imagine the scream that would interrupt his thoughts. His head snapped up in alarm.

A woman, he was sure of it; a woman yelling out on the other side of the door. Alyse? Whether it was her or not, it was bad news for certain.

He stepped back a fraction – and his shoulder barged through the door milliseconds later. The wood splintered across the floor of the house but Thor didn't care, pausing only a second to get his bearings before striding forward, guided by the sounds of slaps and struggling.

"It's all your fault! My little girl – ah!"

A harsh slap cut off the woman's emotional wail, and Thor followed it through to a grand living room. Not Alyse's voice, he recognised – her mother's.

He ran through in time to see Alyse's father stood in the middle of the room, Alyse's mother on her knees before him. His hand was curled in the woman's hair, forcing her head back as her face scrunched with pain. Her cheek was red, tears streaming down her face.

Alyse's father's fist rose to strike again.

The god darted forward without a second thought, grabbing the man's fist from behind and crushing it in his own. The scream of pain appeased something inside Thor, the man not even having time to turn around before the bones in his hand were dust. He let his wife go in a second, dropping to his knees too.

Thor growled in satisfaction, eyes flickering to the woman as she crumpled to the floor completely, hair falling over her face as she gasped fro breath. Satisfied she was alright, he turned his attention back to the father: "What have you done with Alyse?" he snarled.

If this was how the man treated his wife, what kind of 'care' had Alyse been subject to in his absence? At least she wasn't being hurt now, Thor reasoned. It didn't guarantee that she wasn't in pain though, that she wasn't in despair.

He wanted to see with his own eyes that Alyse was in good health.

And quickly.

Alyse's father's dark narrowed eyes glanced up at the god, his whole face trembling with pain and rage as he clutched his shattered hand. He said nothing.

Patience quickly fleeting, the god reached forward and grasped the noble by the hair on the back of his head, forcing it back so Thor could glare directly into his eyes. The prince's were bordering on savage. "Where," he growled, "is she?"

The longer he waited the angrier and more anxious he felt. He just wanted to see her – to him, her father's delay meant he had something to hide. What was wrong with Alyse? Was she hurt? Worse? Darting his eyes around the room, Thor caught shatters shards of plates, food across the floor. Their evening meal… Alyse should be here eating too – why wasn't she? Were they starving her? Every passing second made the god more anxious.

He didn't feel any better when a sick smile spread across her father's face. "Did you not hear?" he hissed, barely above a whisper. "She's gone. The little harlot snuck free-"

The back of Thor's hand hit across the man's face before he could finish, wiping clear his cruel smile. He didn't care a whit about his daughter, Thor realised.

Her father spat out a mouthful of blood before turning back to the prince. This time when he grinned, his teeth were stained with blood. "She's not long gone." He breathed on. "Perhaps you could still find her. If you do…" his head shook lightly. "I don't want her back this time."

Thor's lip curled in absolute disgust at the man's words. How could a man say that of his own daughter, regardless of her ills and flaws? Not that Alyse had any to be ashamed of in the first place.

The man was cold hearted and cruel. Thor couldn't help but wonder what sort of man his son had grown to be. Alyse had spoken of a brother.

He was nowhere to be found now; just the women, left with a monster.

But there was only one woman he was concerned about right now.

He let the father go with almost a throw to the ground, but he didn't linger to see if the guy hit the floor or not. A dull thud and a groan of pain answered it for him. Thor turned and strode back through the door, Alyse on the forefront of his mind.

Where could she be?, he tried to work out. If she wasn't with her family in her home, where the hell would she be? If what her father had said was true….she was gone.

It didn't stop him running up the stairs though, searching for her himself before he left the house. He didn't trust a word her father said and would be damned on leaving that house before he'd checked for himself that Alyse truly was not there. For all he knew, her father had her shut away in a room somewhere and was leading Thor away…

Her mother's reaction made Thor doubt it though.

He barged through the first door he saw. The whole room seemed white; white sheets, white drapes, pale furniture…he instantly dismissed it Alyse's room. Where were her paints and colours? Her outrageous outfits?

He had already started to turn back to try the next room when something made him stop in his tracks: her scent.

The god froze in the doorway, back to the room, when he breathed it in, tasted the sweet, exotic taste that he associated with Alyse. It was her. He inhaled another deep breath, basking as the feminine smell overwhelmed him, closing his eyes briefly… he could see her. In his mind. Her beautiful smiling face, her flawless naked body, that unmistakable scent of hers dancing around her…

By the time Thor's eyes opened again, he was scouring the room, trying to understand how he'd not seen Alyse in it before. Now he could see her everywhere: draped on the bed, sitting in front of the mirror, staring out the window…the open window.

That drew his attention.

Frowning, he strode to the open window and the madly fluttering curtains, wild stormy winds blustering them. He held one to the side of the window frame with a sturdy hand.

You wouldn't leave a window open in an unoccupied room – that was inviting thieves in! But if this had been Alyse's room, and Alyse was now missing… Thor's eyes lowered to the cobbled streets below: this was how she'd escaped, he pieced together in his mind, staring out at the stormy street. This was the path she'd taken.

His hand firmed on the wood of the window frame as he searched the rainy streets outside for any trace of Alyse. She would have stood at this frame. She would have climbed outside; the god slipped through the small window space with as much grace as someone of his proportion could. He stood on the slippery roof tiles, trying to imagine Alyse doing the same.

Cautiously, he crept forward. She would have edged the same steps, he thought in his mind. She had to have – else she would have gotten nowhere. She must have climbed out, walked… and jumped.

Thor crouched when he got to the roof edge, eyes scanning the tiles, again looking for any sign of Alyse. A misplaced tile, something missing, something that had snagged… nothing was out of place. If Alyse had jumped, it seemed she had done so without an ill fall.

His eyes lifted a fraction, scouring the saturated street. His gaze lingered on every shadow, wondering if that could be his woman, stumbling through the dark dusk. But every time, it would prove to be nothing more than a shadow the closer Thor looked. He guessed in a way that was good – she must have been well enough to walk away. But where now would she go….

The god's gaze fell numbly as his mind raced thinking….then a red tinge in the stones below caught his eye and his frown. Blinking his eyes back into focus, he stared.

It wasn't a bright red – the rain had washed away that which it would have been! But all the same it was there in the water. Red. Unmistakable red, directly below the roof edge, where Alyse had landed.

Thor cursed; blood.

She had hurt herself.

Within moments, Thor leapt down to street level himself.

It wasn't a large jump, he thought in his head, righting himself in the storm around him. Though Alyse was only a small woman, and more fragile than him. It would be easy for her to not jump in the right way, sprain an ankle or so…or more than that, if it drew this amount of blood.

Thor stared down at it, feeling nauseous – he remembered the last time he'd seen blood on Alyse…it was not a memory he lingered on. Instead, he sharpened his gaze on the bloodied street, searching for more of the red stains.

It wasn't long until he found them. He found another small diluted pool, not far from the first, then another, barely a pace apart. After that, it became more of a trail, a thin path of blood lingering in the rain, showing Thor were Alyse must have staggered. He followed it diligently, careful not to step in the way of the blood trail.

He followed it until it led him to the wall of the building at the edge of the street, where a red tinge even bigger than the first greeted him on the cobbled floor. It gave him no comfort.

His hand touched the now wet wall, knowing Alyse must have done the same. She was injured, bleeding…she'd stopped here to rest obviously, to gather her strength. But then what?, Thor wondered, lifting his eyes up to stare around. Where would she go now? He couldn't see any more blood. She must have carried on steadily, he reasoned, unable to find anymore pools of blood. Though the main path trailed downhill, he noted, towards the sea. The rain would have washed any trace of her away more easily if she had come this way.

What would he think in her situation?, he wondered, staring up and ahead as if he might spot Alyse staggering somewhere ahead in the streets below. Injured, alone, and longing to find him…what would Alyse be thinking?

She must be bleeding heavily, Thor thought. Bleeding heavily, hurt badly, in pain… she wouldn't be able to walk all the way to the palace like that in one night. She'd need rest. Rest, then more travelling in the morning, surely. So where would she go for sleep? The forest? The street? Where would he find her? What would she do about her injuries?

Thor thought and thought... and then he realised he was staring at the answer. His eyes widened as he locked on the flowing waters of the sea, the path he stood on leading almost directly towards the coast through a short maze of streets and houses. Not far, even for an injured person. But far enough. The journey would be agony for Alsye. But he knew that was where she'd go, what she'd do. The coast would have been what she would have seen as she stood her, where Thor stood at that moment. And she was bleeding…salt. If it couldn't get medical attention immediately what was the next best thing to try and keep the wound clean in the meantime – salt water. The sea.

The thunder god's eyes lingered on the rough waves of the sea, imagining them crashing against the shore. His flooding had done that, his storm…

He whirled Mjolnir quickly in hand before he threw it in the air, letting the hammer carry him into the skies with it.

XXX

Alyse was shivering by the time she reached the water, trembling with the wet and the cold. Her arms wrapped around herself, trying to preserve some of the precious little warmth she had left as the wind whipped around her, plastering her blonde locks to her face.

Her dress was a second skin layer now, the torn skirt clinging dangerously around her legs, entangling more with every step. The material was sodden and see-through, hiding nothing of her form from any prying eyes should she have stumbled upon any.

She hadn't though. There had been only her.

Ahead of her, at last, was the sea.

The waves swelled and crashed onto the beach, the water lapping up the sands and falling short just paces away from where Alyse stood. She watched them cautiously.

A part of her knew that waiting as pointless though; her wounds needed cleaning. The longer she waited, the more pressure she put on her ankle, the more pain, the more injury, the more chance something could go wrong that could stop her reaching Thor. The sooner she washed her wounds, the sooner she could rest, recover a little, journey on to her lover's arms all the faster….

Gritting her teeth, she hobbled forward. Her ankle was red and swollen – but numb, barely aware of any pain other than her simple inability to walk.

She knew the salt water would change that – that would hurt.

The water lapped at her toes as she staggered forward, feet sinking into the sand. It was freezing! A gasp escaped her lips as soon as the icy water touched her skin and she paused, shivers wracking her already trembling body. Never mind infection, she would perish of hypothermia at this rate!

All the same, she forced herself on.

Broken step after step, the icy water lapped higher and higher up her feet. She could feel the water's strength grow the higher it crept up her body. She pushed down the anxiety inside her though; she was only going in far enough to submerge her wounded calf. That was it. Hardly enough to hurt her.

Finally, she got to the point in the water where her feet were completely submerged up to her ankles, the receding water instantly taken over by that of a new broken wave.

She froze when the water slashed against her lower calf. A hiss of pain forced its way through her lips as the salt embedded in her torn flesh, water washing away the blood staining her skin. More flowed as the salt began it's cleansing work though. The pain flared up her leg afresh – and the water had only splashed at the lower fringes of the wound!

Bracing herself, she stepped further into the water, teeth chattering too much to bit down on her lip to channel the pain. The water surged against her ankles and lower leg powerfully, and she finally cried out as the pressure on her damaged ankle because excruciating. The constant pull and push, the never ending tug from the water on her shattered bones was agony. She wanted to go back, she wanted to rest, she wanted the pain to stop…

But if the exposed flesh of her leg got infected, got anything in it, she would struggle to make it back to Thor and the palace alive. She needed to just keep herself alive, even if she was in pain. Thor would take it all away when she got to him – if she got to him.

Thor would have had battle wounds, she reminded herself. He would have been injured and have to journey back home, in pain, needing to care for himself enough to get himself home – this was no different to what Alyse faced. If Thor could do that, why not she? Thor must have crossed realms injured and she couldn't even cross a city? No. She had to do this. To show Thor what he meant to her, how strong she could be. He would be proud of her.

That thought fuelling her, Thor's angelic face in her mind, she soldiered on. She didn't try to hold back her cries as the water crashed against her torn leg, bathing the wound resolutely in salt water. It hurt. The stinging dug deeper than she imagined and the urge to reach down and itch the sting away was almost consuming. It was all she could do to grab fistfuls of her sodden dress instead, and clench that for all she was worth.

Her head was high as she waded deeper, feeling the strong waters push as the recently crashed waves battered against her. Gods, the water was powerful, she thought. The wind whipped around her, spinning her hair wildly around her face but she didn't care. It was a meagre pain to that in her leg and ankle. If anything, the stinging on her face was a welcome distraction.

Just minutes more, she told herself, dragging her leg deeper into submersion. The thrashing of the waves was forcefully washing every lingering bit of grit or dirt in her injury, thoroughly cleansing it. She just needed a few steps more to completely soak her wound and then it would be over.

The storm was raging around her, seemingly getting wilder and wilder but she quashed her fears. It was only a little water. She wasn't even up to her knees – there was nothing to fear here.

All the same her heart fluttered and she was counting down the steps until she could turn back. The sun had gone now and she craved rest, even if it was just on the street for a night. The street, with the rain still pouring hard, the waves rearing and roaring menacingly, while the wind howled… gods, what a night it would be. But only the one night, then she would be in Thor's warm safe arms the next.

One more step, she told herself, and she could stop. One more step would bring the surface of the water level with her knees, immersing her wound.

She staggered that last step with a grit of her teeth …then a colossal wave crashed ahead and the water surged against her; her ankle snapped beneath her like a brittle branch. Her head dipped under the surface in seconds as her footing slid on the soft, unstable sea bed. It didn't feel so soft when something crashed into the side of her skull though, the watery world around her plunged into swaying darkness.

The scream she'd harboured in her lungs sank away as water flooded in through her parted lips. Pain throbbed in her ankle and leg – even more so as the drag of the drawing back sea pulled at her injured form.

She could barely notice the pain though – everything hurt. Her eyes stung from the salt, her lungs burned, her leg, her ankle, her head…her feet scrambled beneath her for a surface on which to sand but she found nothing but the lightness of water. How could she be so deep already? Seconds ago, she'd only been up to her knees! A tiny slither of light shone above her through the momentary stillness of the waves above her, the tiny glimpse of moonlight a blessing. Numbly, she reached for it.

A wave crashed over her head, and darkness consumed her.

A/N

It only takes a foot of fast moving water to take you down. Stay safe, kids.