Chapter Text
“Hello, little one,” Loki’s smooth voice welcomed me in.
I stepped into his room and saw he had made himself at home. His whole room was decorated with colors of green, black, and a splash of gold. His room was simple but neat. He had a few trinkets on his desk along with paper and ink, and several books on his shelves. His bed was huge, covered with furs that made it look insanely comfortable to sleep in.
“Chinchilla hair,” he answered my unspoken question. “Some of the softest hair on Midgard.”
“You just had it get chinchilla blankets, did you?” My tone was snarky, incredulous at the unnecessary blankets.
Loki chuckled and moved deeper into the room. He sat on one of the chairs by the fireplace, which wasn’t burning at this time of year.
“I did not ask for it. Nay, my brother gave it to me as a gift. I guess as a way of saying, ‘Yes you are a prisoner but here are some soft blankets to forget about it.’”
I grinned at his honesty. He could see right through every gesture, especially Thor’s.
“A prisoner that did harm thousands,” I pointed out, taking the seat next to him.
“Ah, yes, that. However, I did not ask you here to discuss my past affairs.”
“Why did you ask for me?”
I sat up straighter in my seat, ready for the oncoming interrogation. I would have to lie. I would have to dance around every question, maybe answering with my own questions. I would have to pull out every trick in the book, even though Loki most likely WROTE the book.
He grinned at my obvious anxiety. “Do not fret, little one,” he purred. It didn’t calm me down. “I won’t force you to answer anything you don’t feel comfortable with.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he promised.
I nodded. “Alright then, what is it?”
Loki stood from his seat and faced me. Then he pulled up his shirt to show me his scarred side from where the sword had hit him and nearly killed him. It had healed pretty well, but my powers weren’t an exact science so there would be scarring from the dead flesh I accidentally hit.
“My wound has healed nicely,” he commented casually. “Thanks to you, I should add.”
“I didn’t do much,” I assured him, not looking into his eyes anymore. “It was more of a team effort.”
“Yes, well I don’t precisely believe that so forgive me.” He let his shirt fall back down, covering the scar. He went over to fetch some tea he had been brewing because of course he had that around.
He handed me a cup, still smiling. I drank in silence at first, waiting for him to continue, but he didn’t. “Well I’m sorry to say it’s the truth though.”
He let out a small snicker. “Darling, I know you probably thought you were going to come in here and lie to me, but there’s no need. I know you have abilities, but it is your choice on whether or not to disclose them to me.”
I sighed, putting the cup down on the table next to me. He was giving me a choice; I could walk out of this room and leave him confused. But I couldn’t. I think he knew that, too.
Maybe he deserved an explanation for his resurrection from certain death to cope. I wasn’t sure. But the one thing I knew is that I couldn’t walk out of the room and ignore the man that I cared for.
I folded my arms in my lap to stop my fidgeting. I shot a quick glance over to him before looking back down again.
“Yes,” I admitted with a breath. “I have abilities, and they helped save your life.”
He looked interested and nodded for me to continue.
Closing my eyes, I blurted, “I’m different from other mutants. I don’t have cool powers that can create fire or ice or anything. I can’t create anything really. I was cursed instead with immense power that was only made for destruction. My hands don’t help, they destroy. I can kill thousands in the blink of an eye, rather than save them. I’m not a superhero but a monster that’s being caged.”
I waited for him to be disgusted at me. Instead he leaned forward and nodded again for me to keep going.
I took a breath. “I almost killed the people I loved, so they brought me to Tony. He took me in and tried to train me, help me control my powers, but I know what I really am. If I’m not an Avenger well then, I’m a weapon, and that’s how most will see me. So, I hide away… from the world… from people. The world doesn’t need another nuke.”
I chanced a look at him. All I could see was understanding. There was no pity, or anger, just simple understanding. He knew what I meant—what it was like to be thought of as a monster.
A tear fell down my cheek suddenly. I brought my finger up to it and inspected the drop, surprised I had started crying. I didn’t even feel it coming on.
“I don’t know what will happen to me here—if I’ll become an Avenger or stay hidden forever. It’s unclear to me, and I think to the others as well. It’s a new path we’re on together, and I try to stay patient but… I need to live.”
Then, he did the unexpected.
His hand softly touched my arm, rubbing it lightly to say he recognized my situation. My mark spurted to life with a renewed burning, but I tried to forget about it. His hand on me felt too good. I couldn’t risk losing this moment, may it be the last time he touches me like this again. My skin was becoming goose-flesh, and my heart was aflame.
“I do not see you as a monster, Dana,” he muttered to me sincerely. He looked into my eyes but did not let go of my arm. “You saved my life by destroying the disease within me. No monster would do that. No, I see something stronger. Perhaps stronger than I.”
I chuckled. “How could I be stronger than you?”
“You have the world in your hands, yet you choose to keep it running, to keep it filled with life. Not many in your position would make the same choice. Power is not just the ability to do something, it is the ability to do something harmful yet choose not to.”
His words hit me more than I expected them to. He was calling me, a simple Arab girl from the suburbs, a more powerful being than himself.
Unfortunately, he dropped his hold on my arm to collect something from his desk. He brought it back to the seating area and opened the leather flaps to reveal a dagger. The blade shone in the dimly-lit room like a beacon and sharp to the touch.
The bottom was fashioned in gold with a pattern on it I couldn’t make out in the poor lighting.
“My mother gave this to me when I was but a small child,” he recalled, looking at the blade fondly and smiling to me. “She told me that since I was growing up, I needed to start making decisions. I was to be a prince and possibly king, so I had to learn—when to use the dagger and when not to. Then, she said, I would know that mercy, too, can be powerful.”
He handed me his precious blade. I carefully held it in my hands, inspecting the blade. He watched me with a grin as I observed it with wonder and awe. It was gorgeous to be sure.
My eyes moved from the tip of the dagger to the handle. The gold was definitely real, which explained why it was super heavy. There were engravings in different colors.
When I saw what was on it, I dropped it on the couch. I hurriedly stood up, shaking and huffing. “I’m sorry,” I sputtered before running as quickly as I could down the hall to my room. I heard Loki call my name in the back of my mind but paid it no heed.
I reached my room and slammed the door shut. My heart was pounding so hard that I felt ready to burst. I found that my legs were jelly, and I fell to the floor by my door. I brought my left hand up to feel my head and wipe the little sweat that had gathered there from nerves and running.
I looked at my hand then and brought it back down to eye level. Gently, I took the bracelet off and placed it slowly next to me. Turning back to my wrist, the mark was still there, clear as day and still tender from the burning.
What was happening to me? Everything about this seemed impossible, but no logical explanation could be found for why the pattern on my wrist matched the one on Loki’s dagger.
Why did I burn when I touched him?
My heart fluttered, and I leaned back against the door. Nothing made sense to me anymore, but everything was pointing me to Loki. I just wouldn’t accept it yet. Loving him was preposterous. And loving me was out of the question for him!
Love. Tears were flowing regularly now. Yes, love. I had never felt it before, but in my small time with the god, I had come to feel a connection and bond stronger than any I had experienced before.
But he considered me a friend, right? That’s what we were, at least acquaintances. Oh, what he would think when he saw my mark! He would believe I was an obsessed, love-sick girl. I could not tell him or anyone for that matter.
I mean, even I could barely accept the fact that I was destined for Loki.