Chapter Thirteen

One Short Day

The rainbow bridge thrummed beneath her: loving, comforting, almost nurturing. Over a month had passed since she had last fallen into the bridge's embrace, yet to Alex it felt an eternity. Nights upon nights had been spent writhing beneath Loki, screaming his name into the golden hued ceiling. During her absence, he had plagued her dreams, ravishing her in spirit when she could not have him in the flesh. So much had transpired since that night. Every vestige of self-discipline she had held onto had crumbled to dust, leaving her wanton and lacking any vestige of morality.

Yet the more Alex came to know the haunted prince, the more she realised that her self-disgust was dwindling. He was a monster: a cruel, manipulative, insane beast. Even now he felt nothing for the lives he had taken on Earth. Yet while she would forever hate him for what he had done, she could not help but come to conclusion that Loki was a product of the land that raised him.

Thousands of years of supreme power had rendered much of the population of Asgard complacent, shallow and uncaring. They reminded Alex of those she had attended school with: unwilling to take an invested interest in anything that did not directly impact their lives. Gossip passed through the streets of Asgard as rampantly as it did through high school hallways. Growing into adulthood in this environment, it was no wonder that Loki held little interest in the lives of those he had sought to rule.

But what made the situation even more unbearable to Alex, was the nature of Loki's punishment. While tying Loki up and sewing his lips shut was a great source of humiliation, it did nothing to reform the prince. Here was a man who was clearly mentally unbalanced, yet no one would talk to him. Throughout her life, Alex had thought herself lonely, but she realised now that this loneliness would never compare to that which her lover endured.

And now his punishment had been extended into the night. The tiny inkling of respite he was allowed had been snatched away. It had taken every iota of self-control for Alex not to storm into Odin's chamber and declare him an idiot. Such an outburst would do no good. It would only reveal that she had some kind of attachment to Loki, an attachment that was undesirable to everyone but the couple involved.

So instead she had taken Thor's news with as much professionalism as her weakened emotional state could muster. It had raged on her mind throughout the midday meal (which was technically her breakfast). Her tastebuds barely registered the crisp sweetness of the grapes, or the tartness of the freshly squeezed apple juice.

You will be saved from his nightly visits.

The little mantra did nothing to tackle the onslaught of negative thoughts. The previous night she would have adored this opportunity, an externally imposed halt to her foul behaviour. But now...

Her musing, at this point, had been cut short by the loud entrance of Darcy Lewis. Jane Foster and Eric Selvig had joined Alex only minutes before, looking as exhausted as she, but Darcy was as vibrant as she had the night before.

Alex cocked an eyebrow. "Darcy, how are you?"

"Considering I drank my body weight in ale and spent most of the morning getting me some Asgardian booty, I feel fucking awesome." Darcy plopped herself down on the bench next to Alex, grabbing a large knuckle of bread which she slathered with butter. "I could seriously murder some bacon though. Do they do bacon in Asgard?"

"Not exactly sure," Alex had replied with a yawn. "Best ask Volstagg, pretty sure he's a walking encyclopaedia of food."

"Tell me about it," mumbled Darcy through a mouthful of bread, "though apparently he's never had a Twinkie before. How can anyone live for thousands of years without the spongy creamy goodness that is Twinkies?"

The rest of the day had been spent leading Darcy, Eric and Jane through the sprawling streets of the capital. Unlike the citadel, which seemed to be in an almost permanent state of perfection, the city was truly alive. Smells of all descriptions assaulted their senses; hawkers barked their wares from behind small, neat storefronts. Darcy and Jane found themselves enamoured by the wares on offer: the silks, perfumes and jewellery. Dai, on the other hand, was more interested in the trinkets, weapons and clothing imported from the other realms. Eric merely wandered around, open mouthed, in awe that he was standing in a realm he had grown up thinking was legend.

Most fascinating to Alex, however, was the newspaper stand. The paper was thick and crisp, beautifully scribed with the runes of Asgard. She picked up one that looked like the daily paper, her mind recognising enough of the symbols to understand that the feature article regarded Loki. A sketched depiction of his likeness, complete with stitches, was on the following page. Alex could not help but notice the way they had made him monstrous: his handsome face cut by ridges and lines, the eyes glistening with madness.

As afternoon blended into evening, the Midgardians had found themselves drawn to the training yards. Darcy spent most of the time admiring a shirtless Fandral, whose blows were flowery but accurate. It was not until night had completely fallen that Darcy reminded Alex of her promise: to take her to the rainbow bridge.

"This is fucking trippy."

Alex was drawn from her reverie by the younger brunette, who was spread eagled on the slab of bridge at her side.

"I so totally want to have sex on this bridge."

Alex could not stop the snort of laughter that escaped her throat. "Sorry Darce, but you're not really my type."

"As if. We'd have awesome sex."

"I'm sure we would."

"No, but seriously. Sex on the bridge. Have you ever thought about it?"

Darcy was now lying on her side, pale eyes twinkling. It was like some bizarre version of a sleep-over party, if the mattress was rock solid and packed full of light.

"I can't say I have."

"Dont'. Lie. To. Me," Darcy drawled, smirking. "I wonder if Fandral would be up for it?"

"Fandral is up for anything. Literally." Alex pointed down the bridge. "Don't forget about Heimdall though, he'll be watching the whole time."

"Kinky son of a bitch." Darcy rapped her fingers on the bridge, her mind clearly churning through all the possibilities. "So tell me Agent Alex, have you scored yourself some Asgardian crumpet?"

"Crumpet?" Alex laughed, sending the younger woman an incredulous look. "I'm not really sure if you can put Asgardian and crumpet in the same sentence. But no, I haven't." Well, that was not exactly a lie.

"Shame. Talk about stamina!" Darcy's voice dropped now. "You know what? If he wasn't all evil and shit, I would totally tap Thor's brother."

"Loki?!"

"That man is smoking hot! Don't tell me you haven't noticed that?"

Alex turned away as the heat rose in her face, rendering her cheeks a vivid crimson. "He's a killer, that's all I see."

"A killer with cheekbones that could slice through diamond. Seriously. That man never needs to buy a set of knives. All he has to do is put a tomato up to his cheekbone and – shing – the perfect slice."

Alex continued to blush as her mind wandered to the previous night, where she had gently brushed her lips against those cheekbones. It was her favourite part of his face to kiss, the skin so smooth...

"Agent Alex? You're starting to go all Jane on me here...?"

Alex brushed away the thought, smiling at Darcy. "Sorry Darce, just thinking about my dismal lack of a sex life."

Darcy sighed. "That royally sucks. Surrounded by super models, yet no groiny action. You need to get out there."

oOoOoOo

The sound of the attack permeated the air well before a visual could be made. Loud smacks of fist against face, barked insults, the occasional rattle of chains. As they came closer, Alex began to wish she was armed, despite the fact she knew full well what she would see. It had been foolish to think that a few blows the night before would sate Selvig's lust for vengeance.

"Doctor Selvig?"

As much as she tried to imbue her voice with power, she knew it was feeble. The man was on a rampage, thus meaning he was dangerous.

"Stay out of it, Agent Beckett. This is between me and Loki."

The scientist's voice was ragged, but she could hear no hint of drunkenness. No, this was pain, pure and simple.

Alex edged a little closer now. "I understand you want revenge, Eric, we all do. But beating him to death now will do nothing."

Selvig shot her an incredulous look. Okay, so the beating to death thing may have been a little bit of an exaggeration. Still. From the tiny amount of light that flickered into the dark courtyard, Alex could see that Loki's face was in quite a state. Several of the stitches had torn, causing rivulets of blood to pour down his chin. His nose was crooked, a momentary break that would be healed by morning.

"He deserves it all."

"He deserves worse," Alex replied, her voice soft. "And he will get it, in time. I think it's best if you leave it to the experts?"

"I just want to hurt him." Selvig's voice was so quiet now she could barely hear him over the sharp gasps coming from Loki. Evidently breathing through a broken nose was not easy. Alex gestured for Darcy to come forward.

"I think it's probably best if you take him back to his chambers."

Darcy did not argue; taking Selvig's shaking arm. Alex watched as they left the courtyard, shooting her friend a short wave before turning her gaze to Loki. His eyes were closed, the blood on his chin still running fresh from the wounds. It appeared that Selvig had not been the only one to seek vengeance this day: deep slashes scoured Loki's back, still pink and raw despite the speed of his healing.

It was in this moment that Alex realised she could not leave him alone in this state. He was not broken. She suspected he had endured much worse at the hands of the Chitauri. Yet, she could not leave. As quickly as her fingers allowed, she removed the top half of her S.H.I.E.L.D uniform, tearing off the white t-shirt she wore underneath. Loki's eyes opened momentarily, trained upon her briefly exposed chest before she zipped back the outer layer.

"You owe me a t-shirt, Loki," she murmured, ripping the white cotton into rough squares. His eyes followed as she dipped them in a nearby fountain.