Darkness There, and Nothing... CH. 16 - The Flaws of Other Plans

Chapter Sixteen

The Flaws of Other Plans

.

.

Loki's wife. Loki's daughter.

It was too much. It was more than Thor could bear to think about. His brother's wife. His brother's child. Thor's own kin. He had to tell his father, his mother. His brothers. They had to know what wrong had been done to the fostered prince. If it had been Jane…Thor wasn’t sure what he would have done, had it been Jane in danger from the Chitauri, and he in Loki's place. And if a child had been weighed in the balance…

Yet Loki had claimed he'd killed Thea's husband, Sophie's father. He had claimed...and yet Loki's words now echoed in the crown prince's skull.

I killed the wretch. Drove a blade into his pathetic heart and watched him bleed out, watched him suffer for…for what he'd done. For leaving them there. Leaving his helpless wife and his daughter to the Chitauri. Yes, I killed him. I killed Thea's husband and Sophie's father. I watched him die, watched his heart's blood spill like a crimson fountain until there was nothing left but an empty, desiccated husk, a dead man—if he ever was a man at all…Loki Odinson is dead, and I am what's left.

Thor tried to speak to his brother, tried to say something, but Loki surged to his feet and turned his back on Thor, stalking to the fireplace. Leaning his forearm on the mantel, he bowed his head and pressed his forehead hard against his knotted fist. There would be no more words from Loki this day.

In a haze of numbness, Thor trudged back to his rooms and sank down onto his bed. His eyes traced the patters of the rug beneath his feet even as the thoughts circled in his brain. Could it be true? Could it really be true? That little girl, Loki's daughter, murdered by the Chitauri? And Thea, that effervescent girl who could always make Loki smile…his wife, murdered?

"Thor," a quiet voice called from the door of his room. He'd forgotten to close it, he realized. Looking up, he saw Víðarr standing in the entryway, watching him with furrowed brows. "Thor…what is it?"

He shook his head. "I know not where to begin. The information you gathered about Coulson was correct; he was never married. He wasn’t Thea's husband."

Víðarr came into the room, shutting the door behind him. Taking the chair near the bed, he leaned toward his elder brother. "Do you know who she was, then? Did Loki tell you at last?"

Thor nodded. "He claims…he claims that Thea was his wife."

Brown eyes widened. "His wife?"

Another nod from the crown prince. "I could scarcely fathom it myself—Loki married. Loki with a child."

"A child?" Puzzlement crossed Víðarr's features. "He has a child?”

"Had," Thor murmured with painful emphasis. "She is dead. They are both dead, the child and her mother. Loki lost them both when I thwarted his attempt to invade Midgard, or so he claims. I have no proof yet, but the grief in him…he wept, Víðarr. When he at last revealed them to me, revealed the truth, he wept openly. You know he does not weep unashamed before others."

There was a long silence, filled only by the crackling of the fire on the bedroom hearth to drive away the bitter chill. It had been almost a year since Loki had been brought back from Midgard; winter had fallen, spring had passed, summer faded, and now autumn had returned. Had Loki carried the horror of this knowledge throughout the long months since his imprisonment, and none of them had seen it?

Thor remembered the night after he'd been captured by the Avengers. The archer, Banner, the woman called the Black Widow, the young captain, the Man of Iron, and Thor himself had all gone to feast on a mortal dish known as schwarma. Loki had been left in SHIELD custody. Nicholas Fury had been confident he would be unable to escape, and Loki hadn’t seemed inclined to try. He'd almost seemed to be…waiting. Waiting for what, even his brother hadn’t known. But Loki had definitely been waiting for something.

And then, when the Avengers had returned to the SHIELD base where Loki was imprisoned, there had come the one moment Thor hadn’t understood. The moment he still did not understand. Even now, his memory tried to shy away from it.

The moment when Loki had screamed…

.

"He was pretty restless earlier," the agent called Hill informed the Avengers when they entered the observation chamber that could, when activated, give them the perfect view of their quiescent prisoner. “Pacing like a wolf in a cage. Then about five minutes ago he sat down and got quiet.”

Everyone gave the single active monitor a dismissive glance, save Thor. He couldn’t look at it at all. In the heat of battle, he'd been able to push aside the briar-tangle of emotions threatening to strangle him. Now, though…how could his brother have committed such evil acts? How? Where was the brother he knew in that madman trapped in the Midgardian cage?

"Thor," Banner said, nudging him a little. The Asgardian flicked his gaze to the mortal scientist and away again. "You okay?"

After a moment, he nodded. "Fine. I am—"

From beyond the frosted glass wall separating Loki's cell from the observation chamber came a horrific scream, an agonized howl of anguish saturated with half-mad rage that dragged on and on, holding everyone in the room frozen. Thor's eyes widened and his blood shifted to ice-water at the terrible sound that seemed to scrape along his bones. He had heard men scream so when mortally wounded on the battlefield, but never…

Then a single, awful thought penetrated the fog of gut-churning horror. Without another moment's hesitation, he surged forward, rushing for the door that would lead him to the room where his brother was being held. Loki could not escape again. He could not.

But Loki wasn’t trying to escape. Forearms braced against the window-like wall of his cell, his shoulders jounced up and down and his chest heaved as he sucked in ragged breaths. Sweat raced down his pale face, plastering his dark hair to his cheeks and neck and temples. Wide, electric blue eyes blazed in the sunken sockets with something that might have been an insane sort of horror. Blood leaked from Loki's cuts and he hunched as if whatever wounds Banner had inflicted pained him. Thor realized he leaned against the glass because his legs shook violently. In fact, Loki trembled as if the strength were swiftly draining from his limbs. Even as the crown prince watched, he dropped to his knees.

"What was that?" The captain asked from Thor's left, staring at the containment cell. They were all staring at the cell—the six Avengers and Nicholas Fury. Thor's hand slowly drifted away from the handle of his hammer as his brother only hunched there on his knees, staring blankly at nothing.

"I don't know," said the young, white-faced SHIELD agent that had been on guard in the room. Shouldering his weapon, he saluted Fury with a shaking hand and added, "He was just sitting there with his eyes closed, like he was meditating or something, sir. Then his eyes opened and he looked…"

"How did he look, soldier?" Fury demanded.

"Well, to be honest, sir, I'm not entirely sure. Like he'd just been stabbed. The prisoner got to his feet and he just…screamed, sir."

"Maybe somebody needs a timeout," Tony muttered from beside the young captain. Steven laughed softly. Thor glanced disapprovingly at them, but said nothing. He only watched his brother.

Loki trembled as he slowly rose to his feet. He swayed where he stood, as if he'd been drinking all night. With staggering steps, he stumbled back to the bench on the opposite side of the cell. As if in a daze, he dropped to the bench, looking pale as a corpse. Against Thor’s will, a flash of concern shot through the prince.

Almost as if he'd sensed that concern, Loki lifted his head and let his eyes drift past the line of faces until they settled on Thor. Those hollow eyes, colored blue by the lighting, held the agony of a man being slowly burned alive. A man who'd seen his own death…and welcomed it, only to have it snatched away.

"Kill me, Thor," he whispered, and the murmurs of the Avengers quieted.

The crown prince shook his head. "You will face Asgardian justice for your crimes, Loki."

"Justice," Loki echoed, almost as if he didn't understand the word. "Justice. Justice?" He shook his head. His fingers slowly knotted into white-knuckled fists that shook. Even as they watched, crimson begin seeping between the long, pale fingers. "There is no justice. No fairness. Nothing. Nothing." And then Thor thought Loki said "she is…" before trailing off, but he couldn't be certain. “There is no justice here. There is nothing here.”

Nicholas Fury took two measured steps toward the containment cell and paused, studying his prisoner. At last he said, “Finally woke up to the fact that we won’t let you just conquer our planet?”

Loki didn’t look at him. Didn’t acknowledge him. In fact, it was almost as if the green-eyed prince didn’t even hear Fury’s words. He stared at nothing, looking like a child lost in the dark. Thor frowned. This was not like his brother at all. Loki’s pride, his sheer arrogance, should have had him lashing out at Fury for his “disrespect.”

Instead Loki rose to his feet and took a few shambling steps toward the center of his prison. With every step, his feet dragged and his legs shook. Thor took a step forward. He could sense the unease in his comrades. Tension prickled on the air. Loki swayed, staggered. What was he doing? Thor couldn’t be certain—none of them could—and so they waited, tense and ready, for him to try to attack.

But he didn’t. He merely dropped to his knees, then sat on the floor. He looked like a man who’d received a knife between the ribs, a man bleeding to death who hadn’t yet realized he was already dead. He looked at Thor, a look of such potent pleading that it burned the prince like a brand against his heart, before dropping his gaze to his hands, which trembled as he held them out in front of him. Slowly Loki shook his head as if it were a great weight upon his shoulders. The breath hitched in his throat; he swallowed hard. His fingers tangled into fists.

“No,” he whispered. The word seemed to tear from his throat like a gossamer blade, soft and deadly as graveyard chill. He shook his head again. “No. No, this can’t be.”

“Looks like ultimate power finally got the message—“

“No!” Loki roared, surging back to his feet. Immediately Thor wrenched up his hammer. He heard the hum and whine of Tony Stark’s armor, the quiet singing of the captain raising his shield. The archer knocked an arrow and the Black Widow and Fury both raised their weapons. But Loki didn’t acknowledge them. He raked his fingers through his hair and bellowed, “No! No! This can’t be! No!”

Thor felt it before the others realized what was happening—the rising scream of seiðr on the air, snapping and crackling with power. Loki wasn’t doing anything with it, just letting it build and build until it rattled the walls of his prison.

And the Avengers could do nothing. There was no thirty-thousand-foot drop this time that could kill him, but Loki had been so badly wounded they hadn’t believed they’d needed it. Yet now the pressure of Loki’s seiðr sent an ache throbbing through Thor’s teeth. Loki’s wild eyes lifted to the ceiling, darted all over it as if searching desperately for something.

Thor took a grip on his own seiðr, paltry and clumsy though it was compared to his brother’s sorcery, and flung it between the Avengers and his brother’s power as it exploded in a flash of blinding emerald light tinged with ivory and threaded with blue. That power hit Thor’s magic with a thunderous crack! And amidst the torrent of savage power, the prince heard that same anguished scream once more, the insane torturous howl that shouldn’t have been able to come from any human throat. The agony in it chilled the Asgardian’s blood like wind out of Jötunheim. Somewhere in that scream was a word, one Thor couldn't quite hear, a tortured cry of denial and insane despair.

Spots danced across Thor’s eyes; he swiftly blinked them away, needing to be ready for his brother’s next assault…but none came. When he could see again, the prince realized Loki sat with his back to them all, pressed to the wall of the cell. His bowed head rested on his updrawn knees. Bloody handprints smeared the white floor. Loki sat utterly still, not so much as a muscle twitching.

“What was that?” Fury demanded.

“Seiðr,” Thor replied, staring at his brother’s still form. Loki didn’t even twitch at the word. “My brother’s power unleashed. I shielded us. I…I do not think he will try it again.”

The rest of the Avengers stared at him, unsure, but Fury nodded. “Doesn’t have it in him?”

Watching Loki, Thor shook his head. “No,” he replied, knowing the words were true even though he didn’t understand why. “No, he doesn’t.”

Loki’s head remained bowed, his entire body locked with tension so taut Thor’s own muscles seemed to scream in sympathy. The captive prince didn’t turn around as the Avengers began to walk away. He never looked up. He merely held himself tightly with his back to them, the ghost of that ravaged howling still echoing in the room.

.

“He knew,” Thor whispered to Viðarr. “I didn’t understand then. I thought he was merely…merely mad and enraged at having been thwarted. But he must have known somehow. He must have sensed it when they were killed.”

His brother looked sick. “Are you certain?”

“Not certain, no. We need proof, but…but I think…” Thor looked at his younger brother. “You said you believed Xavier and Fury were holding information back. Why? I should have asked you then, but I was distracted by what you reported about Coulson. Why do you believe they were holding back?”

Viðarr leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. “When Xavier spoke of the girl, that she’d disappeared, it seemed as if he would say more, but then he didn’t. As if he’d thought better of it. When I asked if there was anything else, he looked at me for a moment as if weighing a choice. Then he shook his head, as if the choice had been made, and said that was all he could tell me.”

“And Fury?” Thor pressed.

Now his younger brother frowned. “When I spoke to him of Coulson, I mentioned that I was your emissary, and that you had questions about the fallen son of Coul. Fury gave me an odd look and said, ‘The fallen son of Coul. Interesting.’ When I asked him what was so interesting, he hesitated for just a moment before saying he wouldn’t have thought you would send another of your brothers to Midgard just to ask questions of a man you believed to be dead. I thought his phrasing strange, but he wouldn’t elaborate.”

“Did either of them explain what might be causing the strange seiðr shielding around the school and their base?”

Viðarr shook his head. “When I mentioned it, that our Gatekeeper couldn’t see past such shields, they both seemed surprised…but then they both had nearly identical looks on their faces, as if they’d just realized something. They wouldn’t speak of it, however, and claimed not to know the cause of the shields.”

“Why didn’t you mention this before?”

His brother shot him an irritated look. “I was tired. It was nearly midnight. I’d been traveling in enemy territory for weeks. Might I have just a little leeway to forget a few things? I did tell Father when I remembered. He wants me to go back in a few weeks’ time and speak to Midgardians again, to see if we might get more answers.”

Now it was Thor’s turn to shake his head. “No. Fury keeps many secrets, and his honor is…questionable. I know not this Professor Charles Xavier, and so I am not certain I can trust him, either. Loki said that Thea had been wrong to trust either man, but he never explained why. No…if we need information, now that we have a place to start, there is only one man I would trust to find it for us.”

Raising both brows in inquiry, Viðarr said, “You trust a Midgardian that much? He must be a worthy ally. Who is he?”

“Anthony Stark.”

.

Thor went to Loki the next morning to try and see if there was more to his story, but Loki simply lay on his cot, feigning sleep. After what he’d revealed last night, Thor knew his brother no doubt wished him far, far away, where he would stop asking questions about Thea and Sophie…but now that the crown prince knew part of the truth, he had to have it all. If only Loki would give it to him…

But there was another reason for his visit. After an hour of trying to coax words from his little brother, Thor finally said, “Loki, I will be gone for a few days. I wanted you to know so that you didn’t think…” Didn’t think Thor had abandoned him after dragging such painful truth from him, but the prince couldn’t seem to force those words past his lips. “I must go to Midgard and—“

“To Midgard?” Loki repeated in a rasp that was barely there. Thor had already heard from the guards going off-duty that morning that Loki had actually slept for a time the night before, only to wake himself screaming. They hadn’t known what the captive prince had dreamt; they only knew he’d been roaring protests against something in his nightmares. Thor was fairly certain he knew what. “Why to Midgard?” Loki asked.

“If we are to give you your vengeance for your wife and child, then Father must be convinced. I will go to someone who can give us irrefutable proof, proof even Father cannot ignore.”

“You intend to help me?” Loki whispered. “Then…then you believe me?”

After a long moment, where blue eyes locked with tortured green, Thor nodded. “I believe you, Brother…and I am truly sorry.”

Loki looked away, as if he couldn’t bear to see the depth of his older brother’s regret. One arm came up to cover his eyes. “Whose aid do you seek?”

“The Man of Iron; I think he holds Nicholas Fury in the same contempt as you.”

“Ah,” Loki said. “The man of the rapier wit in his Midgardian armor. The only one immune to the Chitauri staff.”

Something about that caught at Thor’s attention. Cautiously, he said, “It seemed to do you no real harm. It lent you a great deal of power. Were you not immune to it?”

A heavy sigh. “No…no, I do not think I was, really. Thea warned me not to touch it when they gave it to me. She said to try not to use it. I kept it away from her, because we didn’t know what it might do to…but Thea didn’t trust it. And when I used it, when I even so much as held it, I…I don’t know. It seemed to whisper to me, to taunt me with my fears of failing. My fears of losing my love and my child.”

Seizing the moment, since Loki had brought up Thea on his own, Thor asked, “Brother, why did you join with the Chitauri? You said yourself that so long as you had Thea, you could endure any of their tortures. Why then did you go to them?”

“Because of Sophie,” Loki rasped. “I had to, for Sophie. They…the Chitauri meant to…they were going to kill Sophie, and maybe Thea. I couldn’t let them. I had to…” Loki sucked in a sharp breath and bared his teeth in a snarling grimace. He wrenched his arm from across his eyes and sat up abruptly, breathing hard. “They took her from me. Three weeks after our wedding, they took my wife from her cell and me from mine. The very day she told me…”

.

It was always a wrench, to be forced to sleep alone in his cell after making love to Thea. It was too dangerous, they both knew that; they couldn’t fall asleep together in the same prison cell or the Chitauri might learn of the hole in the wall. So far they hadn’t seemed to notice, which was so strange, but Loki clung to the hope that it was just luck. They were due for a bit of luck. But even though they couldn’t sleep in each other’s arms, Loki would always hold Thea’s hand through the hole in the wall as they drifted into slumber. At least he had that.

And for now, he had his wife. Thea lay in his arms, her arms around him; they lay tangled together in the dim glow of the flashlights, the bedroll soft beneath their bodies, with Thea’s head on Loki’s shoulder. He stroked a gentle hand down her back. Anger and unease always twined together like hot wires in his belly when his fingers found the delicate ridges of her vertebrae.

She was so thin. Too thin. They’d stretched out her energy bars as long as possible but they’d run out weeks and weeks ago. Her skin, however, remained soft beneath the dirt despite the press of bones. Lotion, she claimed. It was what had made her smell so sweet their first night together.

“You are so beautiful,” Loki whispered, nuzzling her cheek. She sighed and cuddled closer to him, blissful and sleepy.

“You’re not too bad looking yourself. I’m so lucky my husband is hot. Man, I love saying that—my husband. When we get out of here and get home, all the girls at work are going to be so, so jelly. I’m just gonna be like, ‘Well, go get kidnapped by aliens. Maybe they’ll be a smokin’ hot alien for you to marry.’ Of course, everyone knows that I drink Felix Felicious—or whatever that’s tuff in Harry Potter is called—by the bucketful, which is totally dangerous, but makes you super lucky. Why don’t I ever gamble after drinking that stuff? I could become a billionaire. I’d never have to work again. Oh, ew. That would be boring. I’d die. I’d become a zombie.” She pressed her forehead against Loki’s jaw as her fingertips whispered along his collarbone. “Would I be a cute zombie? Would you still love me if I had an unholy craving for brains?”

He kissed her forehead. “I would love you even if you became one of those sex-crazed tentacle-monsters you told me about.”

She laughed. “Oh, hardships for you. It would be so difficult for you if I became a sex-crazed monster. What would ever become of you? Hmmm?”

“I could do without the tentacles.”

Thea seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I could see that. So you’d love me even if I was a zombie. Hmmm. You know, if I became a zombie, I would try really hard not to eat you. I promise. Even though you’d taste delicious.”

“How can you be sure I would?”

“Because I’d be a magician zombie and still have my amazing powers, so when I took bites out of you, you’d taste like Skittles. Hey, wait.” Her eyes lit up. “Oh, my gosh. I feel so dumb. I can totally make you taste like Skittles. I could do that if I wanted to. I’m gonna do that.”

Loki frowned. “Why would you…are you biting me?”

“It was a love nip,” she informed him haughtily. “On your shoulder. You know you liked it. Don’t you remember when I happy-smacked you in the face with the snowballs? You know you liked that, too. You’re a masochist. A sexy, sexy masochist with an adorable dimple in your cheek, and the most gorgeous…green…eyes. Which reminds me, I have to...tell you...something...Loki, I’m talking.”

“I’m listening,” he murmured. And he was. Honestly. But…

“I can’t talk when you do that.”

“You’re doing fine.”

“What was I saying?”

“I’m sure you’ll remember shortly.”

“I don’t think I will. Stop with the lips. That’s my neck. My neck! That’s my jaw. And my ear. Don’t…I mean…I mean…I lost my train of thought. What was I saying? I forgot because you’re…kissing my…ear…meh…”

“Just relax, darling.”

“But I have to tell you something important,” she protested feebly.

Nuzzling her throat, he murmured, “Tell me.”

“I can’t, you’re distracting me.”

“If it is about my dimples, I’m sure it can wait. Your neck, however, can’t. It’s quite the temptation. And this spot just here.” His lips moved to her jaw and she squeaked, then sighed and melted. “I love you,” he added, nuzzling the spot in question. “So much, Thea.”

“I love you, too, but I…really…need to tell you something important!”

With a groan, Loki dropped his forehead to her shoulder. He wanted his wife. He didn’t think there would ever come a time where he didn’t want her. It was torturous, not being able to be with her in all the ways he wanted, whenever he wanted. It infuriated him that because of the Chitauri, he couldn’t take his beloved to see all the wonders of his Realm. But whatever it was had to be truly important, because Thea wanted him at least as badly as he wanted her.

“What is it, suetyng?”

“Well…okay. So I don’t know why this never occurred to either of us. It probably should have…but it didn’t. So we’re both kind of, like…well, anyway. We messed up, did a dumb thing. It’s a great dumb thing, but the timing stucks. Stinks. Sorry. I tried to say ‘sucks’ and ‘stinks’ at the same time. I’m flustered. Anyway, and I’m happy, but I’m freaking out, and I don’t want you to be mad, okay? Please don’t be mad.”

Baffled, Loki propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at her. “Why would I be angry with you? What could you possibly have done?”

“Promise you won’t get mad? Because if you got mad I’d have to go find my misery-ditch and bury myself in it to die, and I don’t have any jelly beans. Ohmigawd, now I want jelly beans, which wouldn’t be a big deal usually but I really want jelly beans and I’m babbling again. Stop it, Thea. Focus. I need to remain fockused. Yeah, I know that’s not a word. Freaking. Babbling. I’m sorry, I know you were trying to be romantic and I know that you really, really don’t need this and I just need to spit it out but I can’t because I’m scared and—“

“Älskling,” Loki interrupted, cupping her cheek. “You needn’t be afraid to tell me anything. Anything at all. What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Well, we’re trapped here, and the Chitauri don’t know we can talk to each other and stuff, and I really wish I could do this whole thing at home, maybe in a hospital. A nice, shiny, clean hospital that sparkles like Jack Frost’s teeth. Or in my room. I miss my room. I had this ridiculous Winnie the Pooh wallpaper and I always wanted to take it down but you know what? I will paper my house with that stuff when I get home or maybe something Calvin and Hobbes-ish and ohmigawd Loki I’m pregnant.”

He blinked, unable to process everything she’d said. Something about wallpaper and hospitals and…wait. No. No, she couldn’t possibly have said what he thought she’d said. She couldn’t have. “What?” He breathed.

Tearfully, she whispered, “I’m pregnant.”

The bottom fell out of Loki’s world. He stared at Thea’s face, tracing every contour, every feature. Tears welled up in her eyes, but didn’t fall. For the first time, he saw pure and unadulterated terror on her face.

“You’re pregnant?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think—“

“Stop it.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight to him, letting her bury her face against his chest. “Stop. It isn’t your fault, it’s mine. I…I should have thought of this. I did not even think. I’m so sorry, Thea. I’m sorry. It’s all right, though. It will be all right.” Though he couldn’t see how, and he knew she knew that. He knew there was no way to make this all right.

A child. A child? How could she carry a child in this place? It would die, here away from the sun and fresh air, without proper food or water. It would die in the womb. She would lose a child conceived in this darkness. They would lose the child.

What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t even protect her; how was he supposed to protect their child? He'd always longed for a family, for a wife and child, but never thought that he could have one. Not with how the women of Asgard secret disdained him. And now...

“Are you certain?” He asked, praying for it not to be true. How could he have been so reckless? He was no better than Thor, endangering the people he loved most for the sake of insignificant nothings. “Are you certain, Thea?”

“Almost a hundred percent. My body’s been…acting weird. My period’s late. It was supposed to be two weeks ago. I’ve been feeling kind of sick the last couple weeks, too. I think…I think it was the first night. Our wedding night. I think that’s when…Loki, what are we going to do? I mean…my powers are going to go ballistic. That always happens to mutants when they’re pregnant. I don’t know what will happen. And trapped in here, the baby could die. I could die. We both could, me and the baby. I can’t have a baby in here. This place is a box. I’m going to turn into a whale. I’m going to be Shamoo. I won’t be able to climb through the hole to get help from you once I turn into whale.

“Oh, man, I’m hyperventilating. Make me stop. Slap me, I’m hysterical. No, don’t slap me, I’ll cry and you’ll hate yourself. Just…I need chocolate. Fatty, sugary, melty chocolate. I need to go swim in chocolate. Fifty laps should do it. Yeah. Fifty laps of chocolate. It’s like Fifty Shades of Gray, but better. And tasty. And I can’t have a baby in this freaking pit of dark despair! I don’t even have an albino to complain to! Why am I in the pit of despair? This is not The Princess Bride and I am having a spaz attack, maybe you should slap me.”

He cradled her, clasping her to him. “It’s all right, Thea.” An idea was slowly easing its way out of the depths of him, weighing down his bones with pain. A terrible, impossible, cruel idea. It was a way…a way to protect his wife and unborn child, but…but he couldn’t. He couldn’t possibly…”It will be all right.”

“No, it won’t. Yes, it will. Stop that, Thea. Stop.” She pressed a hand against her forehead. “Stop that. It will be fine. I am a queen. I am a love goddess. I am an Amazonian love warrior. My hair is fabulous, my teeth are perfect, my eyes are blue, and everyone and their dog thinks I’m the best thing since pineapple pizza. I am incredible. I am a star. My breath should be bottled as Gobstopper-flavored perfume and marketed by Willy Wonka because I am just that amazing. And I will kick the Chitauri’s butts because I’m pregnant in this teensy, weensy hell box! Thea, stop freaking out!” She covered her face with her hands and took a deep breath. “I’m okay. Okay. I’m okay. Happy thoughts. Strawberry sundaes. Marshmallows. Dead Chitauri. Bubbles. Balloon animals. Loki’s smile. Cliff-diving. Sex.” She pulled her hands away from her face, blinking. “Never mind, that wasn’t supposed to come out. I mean, that’s a happy thought,” she flicked her eyes at her husband, “a really happy thought, but I didn’t mean to say that because now I’m blushing. Ugh, I’m pregnant. I want my mom.”

“I’m here,” Loki said, because he couldn’t really think of anything else to say when his own fear pulsed like an infection through his blood with every beat of his hear. And she seemed to be calming herself down on her own. “I’m with you, my love. I won’t leave you. I’ll…” Even though he knew it wasn’t a promise he could keep, he said, “I’ll protect you, Althea.”

“Okay. Yeah. I have you. I'm okay because I have you. I'm always okay if you're here. I'm okay...no, I'm not. Loki, I’m kinda scared. Could you hold me? Please?”

Of course he couldn’t simply hold her. Not when she trembled with fear and tears still glimmered in her eyes. He had to kiss her cheeks when the tears fell, had to stroke warmth back into her fear-chilled skin. They made love again, because he had to comfort her; the need drove him like a compulsion spell burning in his skull. Afterward they dressed in silence heavy with dread. Once she was dressed, Thea crawled over to him and curled up against him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I am so very sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”

“I love you,” she whispered. “There’s nothing to forgive. I love you so much, I…we both did something dumb. It’s this place. It makes us reckless. But it’s not your fault. I love you.”

He opened his mouth to say something, though he didn’t know what, and that was when they heard the footsteps in the corridor outside. They both froze, then Thea jerked back, turning to try and scramble through the hole in the wall back to her cell. But before she could, the door to Loki’s cell flew open, crashing into the wall.

It wasn’t the Chitauri this time. At least, they weren’t alone, though they bristled with weapons and fangs and claws behind the shadow in front of them. Thea gasped and shrank back, pressing against the far wall. Loki’s blood ran cold as Jötunheim when he saw the eyeless beast grinning at him from the doorway of his tiny prison. Lunging between Thanos’ lieutenant and Thea, Loki bared his teeth and summoned the tiny sparks of seiðr he could muster. It was a pathetic attempt, but he would never simply stand back and allow this monster to hurt his wife.

“You played right into our hands,” the Other growled, still grinning at the prince. “Both of you. Dangle a companion in front of your face and like a pathetic and lonely child you reach out and take it right to your heart. We have no need to exert ourselves unduly when your own actions poison your resolve.”

Thea sucked in a breath. “What? What?”

“Don’t you touch her,” Loki snarled, preparing to spring at his opponent if he so much as moved. “I will kill you if you touch her.”

“You can try,” the Other replied. “If you were at full strength, you might even succeed…but you’re not, and so you and she are both at my mercy. Take them!” He roared to his soldiers, and they surged around him and into the cell like a plague of demonic locusts. Loki struck at them with power and muscle, but he was too weak to do aught by delay them. He heard Thea screaming, tried to get to her, but a blow struck him in the temple—a fatal blow for a Midgardian, though it only knocked him to his knees. Darkness spread across Loki’s vision, and the last thing he heard was Thea shriek his name.

When he awoke at last, he found himself chained to a familiar wall—the same wall they always chained him to when they intended to torture him. Loki tried to shake away the cobwebs and shadows in his skull, but talons raked wicked hot furrows across his brain at the movement. He groaned and tried to hold completely still until the agony faded.

“Loki?” The soft, tense voice jerked him from the haze of pain. Terror clamped down like a vise around his heart. No. No, not this. Not here. He lifted his head to see Thea laid out on a stone slab, tied with ropes that cut cruelly into her wrists and ankles. Blood seeped from beneath the ropes; she’d been struggling. Bruises marred her beautiful face. A cut over one eye seeped more blood. “Loki!”

“Thea,” he gasped, trying to breathe around the lump of fear lodged like a jagged bone in his throat. “Thea, it will be all right.” He couldn’t bear the terror in her face. What had they done to her while he’d been unconscious? Was she all right? Was the baby all right?

“No,” a cold, hollow voice informed him. Every muscle in Loki’s body tensed at the sound of that voice. The Other. “No, it won’t be…unless you do as we have asked you to do for the last several moons and give us what we want.” The Other glided into the room, silent as a snake, dark as a shadow. Thea’s eyes widened and she swallowed hard. Loki narrowed his eyes and strained at his chains, to no avail. “With your power, Odinson, we could conquer Midgard and Asgard. You would have Midgard to rule. You would be king there, your mate a queen.”

The Other trailed a single dark claw down Thea’s cheek. Instead of flinching, as Loki expected, she tried to bite him. The Other snatched his hand back, clearly surprised. Then the eldritch creature whipped his hand across her face, savagely backhanding her.

“Don’t touch her!” Loki roared.

Thea spit a mouthful of blood and muttered, “Wow. You slap like a girl. Douche bag.”

The Other turned to Loki. “Your mate needs to learn respect.”

“You’re a deranged alien Cyclops with really bad leprosy who learned his bad-guy lines from crappy movies. Not much to respect there.”

“Silence, human.”

“Can’t; I’d be doing a disservice to my husband. I can’t imagine what kind of torture listening to you talk constitutes, but it’s probably prohibited by the Geneva Convention. You sound like the Count from Sesame Street…except, you know, lame. One, two, three, ah-ah-ah, and all that crap. Seriously, voice lessons. They'd do wonders for your intimidation. Or you could just, you know, do me a favor and off yourself. Loki, don't listen to him! He works for the Easter Mafia! He's wearing pink spandex under that—”

Another slap should have silenced her; it seemed to daze her for a moment, but she blinked and shook her head as if to clear it. Then, looking right at Thanos' lieutenant, she said, "You're just jealous of my face. Don't be a hater just 'cause I'm prettier than you. Try some acne cream; it might help your complexion. Or you could wear a bag over your head. Screw you very much. Love, nobody in their right minds. Super douche. You're worse than my mom's ex-husband."

There was a heavy silence in the room for a long moment, and then the Other said, “Your mate’s amusing commentary aside, Odinson, if you do not agree to serve the mighty Thanos, we will kill her, and the child she carries. We will torture your mate to death, and we will make you watch. Then we will throw you away into a darkness so deep you will never see daylight again.”

Loki’s heart stopped. Thea…and the child…Thea…but…he could not condemn those people to death. He could not agree to invade a helpless Realm, no matter how far beneath his own. Thea’s Realm. And he couldn’t betray his home…

“The answer’s no,” Thea said before Loki could speak. His eyes widened and he stared at her. “Along with me high-fiving you in the face. With a really big chair covered in razor-sharp, poisoned spikes. So why don’t you take a sugar-frosted dive off the end of my—“

“We shall see,” the Other hissed. He wasn’t looking at Thea, but at Loki, and a cold poisonous horror stole through Loki’s very bones. “We shall see how long you can last listening to her screams.”

When Thea began to scream, Loki wondered how long he could bear it. When she started to cry, begging for them to stop, to please just stop, his heart shattered, slicing him with the jagged pieces. Yet she never called out for him. Even in her agony, she tried to make it better for him. If she cried out for Loki, she knew that he would never be able to hold out.

But when his wife fell silent and simply lay there beneath the Chitauri tortures, blank-eyed and remote beneath the pain, Loki sank to his knees, terror and despair choking him, and roared, “Enough!”

The Other held up a hand. The Chitauri paused. The hideous lieutenant whispered, “Oh? Enough, is it? Are you certain?”

Thea, Loki thought, gazing past the Other to his wife lying motionless, eyes unseeing on the slab of stone. Thea, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Thea…

Aloud, the prince of Asgard whispered, “Enough. Please, enough. Spare her, spare my child, and I will give you what you wish. Command me; I am yours.”

And he would be theirs…until he and Thea escaped this place. And they would escape. He wouldn't rest until they got away from this hell and made it to Midgard. Then they would at last be safe. At last, they would be safe and happy, the two of them and their child. He just had to lull the Chitauri into a false sense of security and escape. If they could only get away, it would be all right.

It had to be all right. There was no other option.