So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.

You can also find this story on ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN under the same title and pen name along with a place to post suggestions.

Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album listed on my profile page too. (My apologies. I didn't realize FF removed the links. I have corrected the problem in what way I can, so for those who like the visual additions, feel free to check them out.)

DAY THREE

CHAPTER EIGHTY SIX

THURSDAY, MAY 3RD 2012

1537 HOURS

OHIO STATE REFORMATORY

MANSFIELD OHIO, USA

LOKI

The name of this ritual has been lost to history, or at the very least lost from the pages of the book I discovered it in. The details of its creation are as varied as the gossip of a drunken hall. That division evaporated though when its use became corrupted, as all well meaning things inevitably do. It turned from whatever its original intent was to an act of possession. To an all consuming form of slavery.

It allows you to link your life, your energy, your magick, your soul to another of your choosing, or theirs to your own. That is how it became widely used. To tether prisoners to their captors.

Used in that manner, the link is generally only formed one way. It is more beneficial to the caster like that. It functions by creating an anchor on the recipient, one that links half of their energy to their captor, and tricks their body into thinking that both of them are one in the same. It forces the victims loyalty, because if the one who bound you in the first place dies, the shock of half your life force suddenly being torn away will kill you too. Though a few are lucky enough to only end up in a vegetative state, if you can count such a life as luck.

It is even more beneficial if magick is involved. It allows the one who forged the link to use that energy. Of course they have to know how, but if they do they can pull on it in place of their own reserves, and even gain access to a different kind of energy.

I am a master of the Seidr arts, something that is learned. She is a natural born Galdr practitioner, and Galdr in inherent, it can be understood, and extended into object. It can even be mimicked by Seidr, though the imitation will never be as effective. But if you do not have it you can not learn it. Unless you trick a soul into thinking yours is part of it.

It is not without its consequences though. You are tearing out half of someone's life force and tethering it to your own after all. It is why I made sure she was as unconscious as we could manage, combining magick and Midgardian drugs. The ritual is dangerous enough without the victim resisting it.

The book warned that precautions should be taken because the ritual caused 'intense discomfort and pain' a more inadequate description I have never heard. It caused tremendous pain. But that pain was unique. While in truth the only physical harm that occurred was in the forming of the marks, it was not the only harm our body recognized. I could 'feel' her energy being forced into mine, and my mind did not know how to process that other then telling itself that what it felt was physical. Every nerve in my body was convinced it was burning.

If I had not fallen through a broken wormhole I might have been overwhelmed by that 'pain'. She was not as prepared.

I am sweating, the sensation particularly unpleasant since it is happening involuntarily. Frost giants are capable of perspiration, it is how they create their ice weaponry, secreting the moisture in a controlled fashion from their skin. It is a conscious effort, not a continuous one. Evolving on such a planet, if they constantly released moisture in an uncontrolled way, their race would have died out long ago, dying from dehydration as the air drew the moisture right out of their skin.

I am sweating because of her. The stress of the ritual has left her in a terrible state. Both IV's of the healing stones have been given to her at this point, the combined contents little more than a third of one bag. Terrance also gave her more IV's, filled with morphine, antibiotics, a mixture of several vitamins and nutrients to help boost her immune system, and anti-inflammatory drugs. A fever has settled into her flesh, even as she shivers violently and goosebumps cover every available inch of her skin, neither a reaction to the cold compressed I continue to place on her forehead.

The additions of mortal medicine that concern me most are the respirator that she is attached to, her breath fogging the clear mask resting over her nose and mouth. She began to show respiratory distress, so she is now breathing in a mist of something called Albuterol. My second concern, and greater concern is the defibrillator that has been waiting at the ready ever since she experienced her first heart arrhythmia during the ritual.

It took most of half an hour to carve the anchor point into her skin, my skill with the blade making the process quicker than it otherwise would have been, even with the tip encountering resistance at the opposing layer of her muscle fibers. It worked though, I can feel it in the hot tug of an invisible chain pulling at my chest.

I knew what my anchor would be, the one I cut into her skin. A symbol meant to represent me in its entirety. Nearly all magick users know theirs, with the exception of novices. Whether they are Galdr or Seidr users it does not matter, when they are learning how to connect with the energy the easiest way is meditation and intense visualization exercises. In those they discover a representation of their own life energy. I remember finding the intertwined serpents a very perplexing symbol for my soul at that age, but I have learned the appropriateness of it with age.

I did not know what her's would be, and I am equally as disgusted as I am amused by it. Even here, alone in a room with a woman who Asgard abandoned as much as she abandoned it, I find a representation of it, and one of the parts I hate most of all. Her symbol as an eagle with its wings outstretched. Thor's helmet, that in his arrogance he only wears in ceremony, bears the wings of an eagle as well.

I cannot cover it yet, not until the spell finishes settling into our skin, but once I secure it I am hiding this damnable bird with an illusion. Until then I can not leave her side. While the anchors are still raw any distances between us will only cause both of us pain. Even sitting right here next to her the tension already borders on discomfort. Now it is just a matter of patience, though I am pleased to wait. I can already see it progressing. The outer edges, working their way toward the center of the symbol, have turned from lines of broken skin and blood to the black lines of a tattoo.

When that finishes so will the ritual, the confirmation of it being the animation of the 'creatures'. While they are not actually animals the designs are magickal creations representing two life forces, they will mimic sentience and the mannerisms of the creatures they depict.

The doctor, the medical one and not the scientist, wanted to cover the marks with sterile pads as soon as they were cleaned of blood. I made it very clear they would not be, not on her or myself. His concerns about infection were unwarranted, because if anything put our health in danger it was not going to be bacteria. I also refused because if they were covered I would not be able to monitor their progress.

That is why I am still lightly wiping away the beading edges of blood off her sternum. The body of her dress has been stained by the blood she shed. I could have purged the fibers of that dye, but opted not to. It was a wasteful use of my magick when I needed to conserve my strength.

For a ritual with such a simple application, it certainly is an exhausting one; I knew that in theory, since all blood magick is said to be so. But that form of magick is so archaic it is only ever used in the old stories. It explains why they apparently did it in the presence of so many healers, because those healers would have also been loyal subjects, prepared to protect their masters in their weakened state afterwards.

"Sir?" And all I have is an idiot and a mortal.

My exhaustion and pain also made me short tempered and I turned my attention to him with a snarl before I found it in me to remember he was in charge of monitoring her health. When I no longer need him I think I am going to take great pleasure in his death. "I trust your presence has a purpose?"

"Yes sir, apologies, but I need to replace some of the IV bags."