DAY 4
The bread today somehow got upgraded to a burger and fries. Darcy wasn't complaining, and wolfed it down as quickly as Loki fed it to her. She wondered if he got off on this sort of thing. His face was way too turned on for her liking, as she practically devoured the last of her fries. But she was getting regular food and water, and toilet breaks now, so she wasn't exactly complaining. Hell, the guy in New Jersey was a little more accommodating than the Norse God.
"I smell gross." She wrinkles her nose and talks to herself. "I really need a shower."
Loki appears, annoyed as always, and leans against the door to his room. "Do you ever cease your complaining, mortal?"
"Have you ever taken a hostage before?" She asks, though the sarcastic comment turns into a genuine question.
"I have taken many."
Her look questions him further.
"And?"
He seems reluctant to answer. "Never a mortal one, besides the few I chose for my army in Midgard, though they had autonomy to a certain extent."
Darcy shuffles and raises her handcuffs to him, her sore, red wrists glowing under the blue light.
"Can you take these handcuffs off? It's not as if I have any place to run. C'mon."
He doesn't answer.
"C'mon, Loki. Don't be a dick. I'm a puny human, remember?"
More silence.
"Listen, these are probably as uncomfortable as those skin-tight leather pants you're wearing."
She continues her insults, but gets no rise out of him. He stays staring into the distance, clearly ignoring her. She starts humming 'It's a small world' loudly and oddly cheerfully. All this earns her is Loki's silence.
"Pleaaaasee?" She drags the word out in the most annoying way she knows is possible, and it has the right effect. Loki jumps up and scowls at her, furious.
"If I let you out of those restraints, will you shut up!?"
Darcy smiles angelically. "Sure."
"You must know that any attempt to kill me or escape in any way will speed up our negotiation with my brother, resulting in missing digits, correct?" He wiggles his fingers in her direction.
"Mhmm."
Loki waves his hand and she feels a release in her hands. She lets out an inappropriate, loud moan as she moves her wrists back and forth, feeling them click.
"What are you doing?" She exclaims as he grasps her wrists. His face is too close to hers- she can see his long lashes framing his oddly bright eyes, the small scar above his eyebrow. His long fingers fit loosely around her small wrists, and she feels an odd heat seeping into her skin. He doesn't answer and when he pulls away to stand, her wrists are partially healed, though still scarred from her constant struggling.
"…Thanks." She rubs at her wrists in vain, trying to erase the scars. "What day is it?"
"Day four of seven."
"What happens at seven?" She tries to stand, but her legs give way, and she stumbles. She shuts her eyes tight, preparing for the impact of the floor, but opens her eyes inches away from Loki, whose arms have found her waist, long fingers splayed out across her skin. He's more muscular than she had originally thought- her outstretched hands waiting to break her fall have managed to find their way to his chest.
They hesitate a second, before Loki splutters and pushes her away. He pulls on his sleeves and coughs, regaining his composure. "We will find out if Thor has honoured our agreement."
"You think Earth will ever get a Bifrost?" Darcy enjoys her newfound freedom, towel drying her hair as she sits on the edge of the deck. Her toes just reach the water and she swings her legs idly. Her question is directed at Loki, who she hears creep up behind her, his footsteps light on the decking.
"Not if I can help it." Loki sits beside her, legs crossed.
"Right." Darcy rolls her eyes and abandons the towel around her shoulders. "You know, you don't have to pretend to hate us."
"You think I'm pretending?"
"Yeah." Darcy shrugs, still looking out at the lake. "You can be inconsistent. Change your mind."
"And what if I hate Midgardians in both the past and present?"
"Racist." She jokes, her heart really not into the argument this would likely spiral into. Strangely, she hears Loki laugh quietly.
"That's unlikely. Thor never told you my heritage, no?"
"No." She says this cautiously, unsure of where he was going with this.
"I'd like to think this all began due to my newfound knowledge of my heritage. I discovered Odin- the man I once called 'father'- took me for political advantage during the war against Jotunheim. After all, a Frost Giant prince in the royal court of Asgard would make for a convincing pawn on the table."
"You don't look like a Frost Giant." She remembers Thor educating Jane and herself about the different realms, and the types of creatures that lived in each one. No wonder she remembers Frost Giants- Thor had covered their existence in length, and now she knew why.
Loki grins. "I am told I have the height of one. When I come into contact with one, I resemble my true form rather convincingly."
"So what's this?" She asks, gesturing him up and down. "Asgardian?"
"I have no Asgardian blood. This is camouflage. From the moment my father took me as an infant, I adopted my captor's image. It's survival."
"So you're all blue under there?"
Loki sighs. "Someone has been teaching you Jotunheim's history."
"And Asgardian. And um, Vanaheim, Svaltalfheim, and some others I forgot." Darcy is surprised how much she recalls. "Thor taught me. I studied political science before all this happened. I wanted to know how they all worked, you know, governmentally, or whatever."
Loki immediately delves into a rich history of the realms for Darcy, and by the time he's finished, she's enthralled. He was a hell of a storyteller, and intelligent, too, giving his own commentary on the improvement of certain realm's ruling. She doesn't remember much of it, but does remember coming to the realisation that Loki wasn't a typical monster. She saw a man underneath it all, and as he spoke, she saw the walls he'd delicately constructed around his true self falter and crack a little.
That's when she knew she was in trouble.
Loki sits on his bed facing the window, looking out into the dense woodland as the sun sets. He is sick of this constant state of war, but the truth is that Thor and his friends were no match to Thanos and his minions, and he is likely to be killed without the sceptre. Not that the Avengers would fight for his life, but the idea is a warm alternative to him a) committing fratricide and handing over the sceptre to an enemy or b) being brutally murdered and tortured by Thanos. It would work itself out one way or another, he thought cynically. Though the universe and fate had a way of conspiring against him.
He had also become accustomed to the presence of Darcy Lewis, whom he let out of her restraints the a few hours before. She had been no trouble, surprisingly, and he had heard many tales of her life in Midgard, and swapped a few stories of his own. She was charming, and it was no trick. She seemed to forget who she was talking with most of the time, dropping into the familiar tone of a friend, even. He thinks he should maybe reward her good behaviour with a board game she wishes to play, but stops when he realises that she is his hostage, and she has no choice but to play nice.
He sighs heavily. One week was a lot of time for his oaf brother to procure the sceptre, and it showed. Four days have passed and he doubts they are searching for the sceptre- they were most likely searching for him. But he is hidden, he thinks, rather nicely. His tastes are more than this dingy log cabin, and he wagers they are looking in every five-star hotel and million-dollar apartment.
He is shaken out of his musings by Darcy bursting through the door and throwing herself on his bed. "Loki?!" She hides behind him, completely unaware of the fact he has no shirt on. She realises this and leaps off him, horrified.
"What is it?" His voice suggests annoyance, and Darcy braces herself.
"Uh. Am I being paranoid-"
"Most likely."
"-Or do I hear people outside?"
Loki frowns. A trick to get him to let her free or a genuine concern? He surveys her uncharacteristically nervous face, seeing genuine truth in her eyes.
"What did you hear?" He grabs a shirt and pulls it on, as Darcy tries to hide behind him.
"I dunno. It was like, talking, but not English. Where are we? Are we still in America? On Earth, Midgard, whatever?"
He jumps up and pushes her gently to the side, listening hard, his dagger close at hand.
"Stay here. If this is a trick, you will be punished."
Darcy rolls her eyes. She figures this would probably be the best time to escape, but from what she heard outside, she'd take Loki over that mysterious woodland any day. Despite his warnings, she follows him to the door, where he places a tentative hand on the handle and pulls it open abruptly.
She doesn't know where to look. The woods are dark, seemingly empty as she peers over Loki's shoulder. As he turns to tell her to get back, it charges.
She can't tell what it is. Part human, with a deformed face and grey scaly skin under leather and steel armour, it knocks Loki back into the cabin with an inhuman roar. She shrieks as another enters, holding what looks like a mace. She backs into the wall, watching Loki struggle to get the thing off him. What would Jane do, what would Jane do, she thinks to herself, panicking as the other thing advanced on her.
She picks up one of the wooden chairs nearby and manages to smash the thing on top of Loki with it. Rewarded by the sheer look of surprise on Loki's face, she hears it cry out as Loki's daggers pierce its skin. Its cry matches her scream of surprise when the other takes her by the hair, pulling her back.
She feels a blinding pain as he hits her face, knocking her to the ground. It takes another step forward, and she raises her arm to protect herself, the mace barely brushing her, but taking a chunk of skin with it. She whimpers and clutches at her forearm. Think, Darcy, think.
Through her tears of pain, and what she's pretty sure is gushing blood, she sees it raise the mace again. She closes her eyes, waiting for the blow, but it never comes. Instead, she opens her eyes to see Loki push the thing against the wall, his dagger at his grey, scaly throat. The thing's breath hitches, it's reptile eyes wide, flicking between Darcy and Loki.
"Darcy?" Loki asks, his eyes still on the thing in his grasp. "Are you okay?"
Darcy runs a shaking hand through her hair and cradles her bleeding arm. "Mmhm." She manages. Her eyes grow wide as she makes a realisation. "Is he… is he with Thor?"
Loki pushes the dagger further up to the thing's throat. He knows who this thing is with, but humours her, regardless. "Let's ask it, shall we?"
The creature remains silent until Loki nicks his throat slightly. "I will not kill you." He threatens, a fierce look on his face that even Darcy admits she's scared of. "Not until I make you wish you were dead. Hurting you in every way I know you fear, slowly, painfully. And then…"
"T-t-thanos." The thing manages, gasping for breath. His English is broken, raspy and unclear. "Come…to… collect… bounty."
"How did you know we were here?" Loki yells furiously, making Darcy jump.
"Following… you."
"Are there others?"
"…No."
"Tell the truth!" He yells.
"No more! Thanos… busy with other matters. He knows your attempt to… salvage what is owed."
"Good." With that, Loki swipes across the thing's throat in one fluid motion. Green blood oozed from the Thing's throat, and Loki stepped back, his nose wrinkling in disgust as it dropped to the floor. Darcy steps into hysterical mode, her panic just setting in.
"What were those things?!"
"You're bleeding." Calmly, Loki goes to kneel and examine her arm, but she bats him away.
"What were they?!"
Loki sighs and grabs the hand batting his away, holding it in his.
"You have no idea. It is better that way."
Darcy takes a deep shaking breath, her way of making the panic subside. She needs to be rational. Just like Jane, she thinks, just like Jane.
"Tell me."
"Let me fix your arm." He offers a hand to pull her up off the floor. She takes it.
"If you tell me what is going on-"
"Agreed."
Darcy perches on the end of the bed whilst Loki cleans and covers the wound on her arm. He winds the bandage around her arm in silence.
"Are you gonna tell me what those things were or are you gonna keep avoiding the question?"
"I wasn't avoiding it." He lies. "They are Thanos' minions. What we call the ont. I… wasn't lying when I claimed I had formidable enemies. Though this was a threat, not an assassination attempt. There was no way the ont would manage to capture me. Not alive, anyway." His laugh is hollow as he ties the bandage. His hands are much softer than she had imagined, his movements fluid and delicate, unlike his brother, who is forever unintentionally smashing and breaking things smaller than himself. Darcy frowns.
"Thanos? Is that the guy you owe something to?"
"Yes. And now I owe you." He laughs, this time not so hollowly. "It hurts my pride to say that I was overpowered by such a creature, but you saved my life, and for that I am grateful. But this does not mean I can let you go."
"I…" Darcy doesn't know what to say. "Tell me about him. Thanos."
Loki stays silent, and Darcy pouts.
"Please."
Loki huffs in resignation. Darcy notes that he takes no time to crack at all. She wonders whether he wanted to tell her this all along- he may have just needed a push. Loki looks down.
"He gave me the sceptre. I did not realise it at the time, but it manipulated me. It brought out all the negative feelings, the feelings of hatred, of greed. And with that, I sought to subjugate you, to lead his armies into your realm, to destroy my brother. Thanos wishes for the sceptre to be returned, though it was taken from me and hidden."
"Hence why you needed Thor to get you it, so you could square a deal with Fanot-"
"-Thanos."
"Yeah, Thanos. How did you even meet him? I thought you were smart enough to stay away from evil dudes like him. What happened?"
At this Loki pauses to tie the dressing on her arm, his hands still on her skin as if he was trying to comfort himself, or her. He notes her slight compliment with a grin.
"I threw myself off the Bifrost Bridge after a rash act of childishness, of stupidity. My father had no kind words for me, my brother professed to love me, yet acted like I was subservient, a fool to be commanded.
" I had let myself succumb to jealousy, to hatred of what I am, where I was from. So I let myself fall into the abyss, wishing to be torn into pieces across the realms, but arrived at Thanos' feet. He… tortured me for days when he knew how much power I held. I eventually complied with his plan. And now he wants the sceptre back, and there is nowhere I can hide, there is nothing I can do but surrender. And I won't surrender. I won't go back there.
"If the sceptre is returned to him, he will find a way for his armies to reach Midgard again, and the Avengers won't be able to stop them with him at the helm. I am stuck, Darcy. Between doing what is right and doing what saves me. I am choosing the latter. I always have."
Darcy blinks. She feels like a psychiatrist for one of the most complicated people in the galaxy. What is she meant to say to that?
"Um. There's choosing the right thing and saving yourself, you know. If you go to your brother, explain everything-"
Loki jerks away from her. "Your view is a fairytale. My brother will not help me. His people will lock me away, like my father did. To rot until Thanos finds me."
"Loki." Darcy sighs. "If you always think that pessimistically, you're going to be screwed. Besides, I have a degree in Politics. Sort of. I can be your spokesperson, I know how these things work."
"Do you wish to defend me?" Loki looks incredulously at her.
"Maybe. I know I'm biased, wanting to get back home and all, but maybe if you asked your brother to help you, he would. There is one way to find out, you know."
"And risk incarceration if he fails to deliver this protection?"
"I don't know. I guess that's up to you."
Loki bites his lip, and Darcy has to admit his thinking face is kinda hot. Not that she'd admit that out loud, of course.
He gets up from the bed and drags her along gently. She notes her trembling fingers still in his, and gulps. Man, was she screwed, she realises with a pang. Loki looks at her, confused, as she pulls her hand out of his but rolls his eyes, offering his hand once more.
"Come. We have bodies to discard of."