Chapter 1: Bright Morning, Bright Day

Five Months Later

Bright morning sunlight filtered through the small gaps of the makeshift hospital. A crepuscular ray shone through the sky, breaking through the high clouds and illuminating the dust particles in the air. At the same time, a shrill, piercing sound rang the air, signalling the start of their morning activities.

Amèlie Kramer internally sighed as her eyes opened, having taken the night shift the night before. Already nurses were bustling everywhere, ready to help and ready to go in action. Most of the surgeons were awake as well, most likely having taken the morning shift. The moans of patients restarted in Amélie's ears, something she was used to by now.

Beside her straw mattress, the only kind of comfort the hospital afforded to provide, lay a bowl of dry cereal and a half cup of water. Their rationing was evidently running out, especially since they were nearing the end of the month.

Next to the food, a small note was there, informing her the conditions of her patients.

Patient 49571 is in a bad condition, but is healing. Check up on him.

Amèlie frowned. Specially composed of people who were able to see through whatever magic that blinded other mortals, of course the Allfather's work, most of the hospital were aware of Patient 49571's true identity. Though Amélie was an Emergency Room healer, not of the intensive care unit. It was clear that those healers had refused to treat Loki.

Being a prince, no matter how subjacent he had become, Loki was privileged compared to other soldiers. Known for his cruelty with the medics, his apparent 'bad condition' was probably from another one of his pranks.

Amélie was also aware how Loki had caused the war. How millions of people were still dying because of him. How millions of families were broken because of him.

How . . .

But as a healer, she had all promised to treat others in unbiased standards, regardless of who and what they were.

And that was why Amélie walked over to the intensive care unit, opened its door, and greeted Loki.

Loki glanced outside and scowled as he saw the sunlight shine through. He had always hated light. Light was opposite of everything Loki was: brightness, sunlight, happiness. Everything that Loki could not be.

The door of the intensive care unit opened, though without a knock, and entered an unfamiliar healer.

She obviously did not work here. Every healer that resided in this area had dull eyes, from seeing the darkest things of humanity and listening to everything that should never have happened.

Once more, Loki felt a glimmer of guilt. Five months here, and he was already starting to realize how much toll this was taking on this country. It was divided in half, by sorrow and fury and pain.

I'm going soft.

The healer approached him and smiled - something very unusual. She looked in about her twenties, tall and strawberry red hair in a ponytail, like all healers had their hair in. Her eyes were as blue as the sky outside, and light sparkled in every inch of her. The darkness was there, though, the darkness of something she should have never seen. Dark circles existed under her eyes as well from overworking and exhaustion. Her nametag read Amélie Kramer, Emergency Room Physician. He had been right. She did not work here.

He couldn't help but smirk. Knowing their animosity, the healers here must've refused to serve him.

The healer sat down, doing the general checks that all healers did. She nodded, seeing the results as satisfactory. She started to leave, before Loki stopped her.

"Amélie." He said, glancing at her for confirmation.

Amélie nodded, looking surprised. He smiled lightly.

"I saw your name tag. I must ask, where are the other healers? Obviously you do not work here." He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear her say it.

"That's right," Amélie stated. Her voice was slightly edged. No wonder she had heard the talk about him. "I work in the Emergency Room. However … " her lips pursed into a thin line as she looked at him warily. "What am I saying? Of course you know."

Loki couldn't help but smile. The healer was smarter than the others that had came before her.

Not smart enough, though.

Almost at once, the rope Loki hid under his bed reacted as he flicked his wrist, wrapping around the healer's ankle in a loop and tripping her. She fell face-first to the floor. The loud bang echoed around the floors of the hospital, though no one in the unit gave a second glance. They were all too used to it by now.

Loki grinned, expecting the healer to stamp her foot, call for help, or even cry. The young woman, however, simply stood up, untangling her foot from the rope. Loki stared at her, slightly stunned.

He had stayed in the hospital for more than five months, yet no one had been so … calm. So unreactive.

"I suppose the rumors are true." Her tone was skeptical.

Loki met her eyes, the color of an autumn afternoon sky. For some reason it seemed rather frightening, the way she reflected it.

"Do you have any more tricks up your sleeve?"

"Who knows?" Loki responded, another smirk playing on his face.

"After last time, I thought you would have learned your lesson." Loki's smirk vanished as he glanced down at his legs, wrapped in a white plaster cast.

"If you cared about yourself, you'd shut up about them."

"Oh, mighty prince of Asgard," said the healer sarcastically. "You scare me so much that I better fall to my knees and beg you not to hurt me!"

"Maybe you should," Loki commented. He studied her - red hair, blue eyes, nothing too out of the unusual. But she was the first one that had stood up to him so calmly. She was the first one that hadn't treated him with a glare or a groan. "Aren't you scared of me? I am the prince of Asgard."

"The fallen prince of Asgard," she replied. "And even if you were Odin, I won't bow to you. The strong should protect the weak. They have no right to bully us around."

"You know that I'm responsible for this war, right?" Loki couldn't help but like her. Fiery and hotheaded, but at the same time, cold and unemotional.

"As a healer, I've promised to treat others in fairly, no matter who and what they are. And that includes even you." The words came out sorely.

Loki grinned. He could see this healer's oath was important to her, how much she believed in it. He could break someone with that.

"Navїeté in Midgard. How peculiar."

The healer flushed. Though unlike Loki had expected, she did not utter a flurry of furious words at him. She did not show any anger. Instead, she merely turned away.

"Wait!" Loki stopped her, hating the desperation in his voice. Those five months he had been stuck here, and he had always been alone. All the Midgardians turned their back on him, rejected him, just like the Asgardians had. This had been the first proper conversation Loki had managed, and he did not want to throw it away.

The healer turned coolly. Loki gritted his teeth, regretting it almost instantly.

Unlike his expectations, however, the healer did not mention his tone of voice or his choice of words. She instead simply sat down by his bedside, surprising him.

"I'm not very eager to go back to the Emergency Room, either." She sighed lightly. "Just bunch of fools in there who only think of themselves."

Loki raised his eyebrows. "Shouldn't be speaking so casually about your fellow friends, should you?"

"I suppose not." She responded dispassionately, surprising him once more.

"For a doctor, you're very … nonchalant."

She smiled then, a bright smile that lit up her whole face, a smile that brought out her eyes. "You've never seen me in action, have you?"

"Actually, I've never seen you before today."

She laughed. "Well, I've seen you all around the place. You're quite famous, to be honest." The laugh soon turned to a frown as three loud beeps sounded from the patient by the door. She quickly stood up and rushed over, motioning another nurse by the windows as well.

Loki soon drifted off as she continued to stand by the other patient, a worried look on her face. A smirk appeared on his own.

The healer was fun to play with, and though she denied it, she was naїve.

He might have just found the perfect candidate to manipulate.