Chapter Four: One Hulking Problem
The coronation, though informal, went well. They didn't have much besides a unanimous understanding Thor would take over the throne. The celebration did not last longer than watching Thor walk through the crowd and claim his seat on the makeshift throne someone had situated in one of the larger rooms of the Statesman. The cheers were subdued and afterward, everyone returned to their families instead of celebrating because they couldn't afford to waste their food nor felt like throwing an extravagant party after suffering horrendous losses only the day prior.
While sitting on his throne and staring out of the vast window, Thor realized how different this one felt compared to his first, failed coronation. There was no cheering, no haughtiness, no glory. The quietness of the crowd and the somber air on the ship pressed in on him more than he would like to admit.
Being king came with responsibilities, and although he would have preferred to have a giant celebration full of laughter, dancing, drinking, and delicious food, anything as such would only feel out of place in their present situation.
After spending a few silent minutes staring out the window, Thor got up and walked back to his room. On his way there, an older, upset woman stopped him. She seemed familiar—probably used to work in the palace. She smelled slightly of food, so Thor assumed she worked in the kitchen.
"My King," the woman said. She clasped a fist on her heart and gave a small bow. When she straightened, her brown eyes were wide with anxiety. "There is a problem in the kitchens."
Thor gave her a nod to continue.
"I am sure you are already aware we are in short supply of food. We need to restock soon but we need to take some precautionary measures to make sure we do not run out until we find more. As we are right now, we could manage for a few weeks, but with the green beast on the ship—"
"Do you mean the Hulk?" Thor asked. He knew having the Hulk on board would cause some problems, but he didn't think the problems would start this soon.
The woman nodded. "Yes. He is in the kitchen right now. We are trying to restrain him but it's only making him more upset, and he is already hungry. For someone that size, it's going to take a lot to feed him—food we do not have."
"Thank you. I will take care of it," Thor said. "Lead the way, please."
The woman bowed again and led Thor to the kitchen. On the way there, they ran into Loki, who stood staring out a small window.
Many stars dotted the darkness and no other planets were in sight. They were a far way from home, and even further from Midgard. They had estimated it would take months, maybe even a full year to reach Midgard—assuming they were not attacked by pirates, had mechanical issues, or were otherwise hindered in their journey.
Thor had never traveled amongst the realms and planets without the Bifrost's—or Loki's secret passageways—assistance. Traveling via spaceship would take some adjusting to, and he hoped everything would go smoothly.
It probably wouldn't but Thor tended to think of himself as an optimist.
"Brother! Good, I need your help," Thor exclaimed, trying to push away any worry of them potentially unknowingly drifting through hostile territory. He should have paid more attention to his geography lessons.
Loki raised an eyebrow in question. "And what do you need?"
He still looked exhausted but he still managed to have a sharp undertone in his voice. It might have been a mistake messing with Loki while in one of his moods, but Thor needed Loki's help—specifically his sharp wit.
"It's something in the kitchen. And afterward, you can get something to eat since you are looking rather thin," Thor said simply.
"I'm not hungry," Loki said and turned his back toward Thor.
Thor stopped and stared pleadingly at Loki's back, knowing his brother would eventually relent if pestered enough. "Please? I won't bother you for the rest of the day."
Loki kept staring out the window, his back tense in a manner Thor knew his younger brother thought about what he said. At least he got through to Loki.
Loki shook his head and sighed as he turned toward Thor. "Fine."
-oOo-
Luckily, the Hulk hadn't gotten any further than the dining room, though he left a giant mess in his tantrum. Several guards tried to calm the Hulk down while the chefs formed a blockade at the kitchen doors to prevent the green beast from reaching the food. A few broken chairs rested in pieces beside the overturned table, any decorations on the wood now smashed to bits.
Loki took one step into the dining room and immediately turned around. No way in all the Nine—now eight—Realms would he handle the Hulk in his hunger-fueled rage. He had tolerated standing beside the beast at Thor's coronation; now, he had enough smarts to know when to pick his battles.
Thor can handle it on his own.
Thor, as if sensing Loki's hesitation, caught him by the arm and pulled him back into the room.
"Let go of me!" Loki protested. He tried to yank his arm from Thor's grip, but Thor always had a strong grip even when Loki didn't feel like sleeping for the rest of eternity.
"It's going to be quick," Thor said.
"'Quick?!' How? If you think it's going to be quick, why don't you do it yourself?" Loki hissed.
"Because I can't do what you can do," Thor said simply.
"And what exactly can you not do, oh, all-powerful king?" Loki snarked with a slight bow made awkward by Thor's grip on his upper arm.
Thor ignored the jab and pushed Loki in front of him, stepping to block the exit. "I want you to make an illusion of Natasha—Black Widow—and calm the Hulk down into Banner. It should be easy. All you have to do is say 'The sun is getting real low.' It's the calming method Natasha uses."
Loki opened his mouth to protest—claiming he met this 'Natasha' a only few times on Midgard—but Thor beat him to it.
"Who would you rather spend the next few months with, the Hulk or Banner?" Thor questioned, folding his arms across his chest with a glare.
Loki shook his head before letting out a huff and turning towards the Hulk. Green light slid across Loki's form until he looked like the red-haired spy.
Loki then carefully stepped closer to the Hulk until he stood a few feet away from the green beast, hoping the dull-witted creature couldn't see the trembling in his facade.
By then, the Hulk caught sight of the illusion and let go of the guard he clutched in his fist. Loki's eyes widened before he corrected himself and took another shaky step closer.
"H-Hey," Loki said, letting the illusion mimic Natasha's voice. It came out shakier than he intended.
Extending a hand, he smiled at the Hulk. "Th-the sun is getting real low. The lowest it's ever been. A winter solstice type of low."
The Hulk, in all his dumb glory, tilted his head to the side and reached out a giant hand. It brushed against Loki's hand, and Loki flinched at the touch. The illusion slightly broke at the contact but Loki managed to correct it before it completely dissolved.
Swallowing a lump in his throat, he forced away images of the raging monster repeatedly slamming into the ground. If the Hulk could see through the illusion, he could easily grab him by the throat and chuck him against the wall. The Hulk couldn't kill him—hopefully—but the force of it could surely knock him unconscious in his exhausted state.
He blamed his tired mind for agreeing to this ridiculous plan.
"The sun is low, really low, the lowest low. It's almost dark, time for bed kind of low," Loki muttered, fully aware the rambling probably didn't help his case.
Norns, he normally didn't do this. Most of the time, words came easily to him—they didn't call him 'silver tongue' for nothing. His mind, so hyped on adrenaline he swore the beast could hear his racing heart, couldn't handle the surge of chemicals rushing through his worn-out system.
Even though they had fought on the same side just a few hours ago, Loki hated being this close to the Hulk. He could feel the Hulk's hot breath on his sweaty face, and the damn beast desperately needed someone to look at his nasty teeth. He had the ogre's sole attention; he couldn't afford to screw this up.
"Yes, sun...low... need sleep…" Loki prattled on. He squeezed his eyes shut and hoped the illusion hadn't faded. His breathing rate rocketed to a dangerous level, making him lightheaded. If the Hulk didn't change in the next few minutes, Loki swore he would pass out.
"Natasha?" the Hulk asked, his voice oddly not coming from somewhere above Loki and not as deep. "What are you doing here?"
Loki risked cracking an eye to peep at the smaller, confused Banner Banner. The shirtless doctor held up his oversized pants in both hands and stared wide-eyed at Loki/Natasha.
Relief flooded in now the threat no longer loomed over him. Not caring if the doctor hulked out again, Loki dropped the illusion and stumbled over to a lone, upright chair and collapsed. It took his last remaining strength to protect his dignity from falling out of the chair in front of everyone.
Loki ignored Banner's shocked gasp of "Loki?!" and turned to glare at Thor through his long, sweaty hair. "I am not. Doing that. Again," Loki hissed and pitched forward.
Thor was there in an instant and set Loki upright. Loki rolled his head and stared up at the ceiling.
"Thank you, brother," Thor said, his strong hands holding onto Loki's biceps. "Just breathe through it. You're alright."
"Thor, what is going on?" Banner said off to Loki's left. "Why are we on a ship? Did we win? Why was he Natasha?"
Thor stood and offered to help Loki to his feet. Loki brushed him away and strode out of the dining room, ignoring Thor's protests and Banner's confused remarks.
Once he reached Thor's room, Loki immediately collapsed onto the divan and fell asleep.
Hulk or not, this would turn into a long few months.