Of Monsters and Men
With an effect that couldn’t be more accurately described as a flash, the three of you reappeared in a chamber glistening and sparkling so much with gold you had to screw your eyes shut to ease the pounding headache. Spots and stars started dancing together right away to the melody of your thumping heart.
Or Loki’s?
Perhaps both—an even more elaborate dance to an unheard melody.
You felt your own body grow more unresponsive with every taken step, every inhale and exhale of a wisp of air, every beat of your pulse. In the arms of the irked god you started to writhe less and less, mind only focusing on getting enough oxygen into your lungs as your skin turned warm, almost hot and feverish.
“Welcome to Asgard,” a voice spoke, echoing through the rather small room you were perched into. Your eyes fell on a man clad in gold, almost blending in with the rest of the golden chamber, standing in the center of it all. There was a gigantic sword in his hands and you barely caught him as he cast a look full of disappointment at Loki.
Ouch.
Then his eyes fell on you, adapting a more sorrowful glance tinted with a hint of sadness. There was no surprise in his features, so perhaps Thor managed to call in ahead of time?
—Did they even have phones? Communication devices in general?
“I have informed the All-Father of your arrival. He does not know any details, simply that you bring a Midgardian with you who you have placed under your protection and who is in need of our aid.”
His voice was deep and calm as he spoke to Thor, orange eyes seeming to glow in contrast to his dark skin.
“Thank you, Heimdall,” Thor replied, his feet already carrying him out through the only entrance right on top of a rainbow-colored bridge and you vaguely heard the waves rolling beneath it, vaguely noticed the stars starting to break through the sky despite the remainders of daylight still shining in purple hues.
A Rainbow Bridge—Somehow reminded you of Mario Kart.
Loki continued to follow next to his brother at a brisk pace, not faltering while his grip was tight, but surprisingly not uncomfortably so. You were still feeling tremendously unsafe with his scarily cold hands under your legs and around your back. Yet, at the same time you were sure you would actually notice should the alien-god plan anything crooked, all the while keeping tabs on his emotions.
But still, apart from pain and terror—and perhaps a teeny tiny bit of annoyance there was nothing.
“Thor, do I have to hold—“
“Yes, Loki,” the blond interjected without looking at him and you would have almost felt offended at the princeling’s words—if you hadn’t rather been in Thor’s arms as well that is, “Unless you want to be the one to talk to Father instead.”
At that Loki fell quiet, almost eerily so as he stopped complaining and simply walked behind at a small distance, Thor walking at the front with the handle of his hammer placed tightly in his fierce grip. The blond seemed to be rather deep in thought, most likely occupied with getting prepared to hold a conversation with their father.
—The King?
Oh wait! Not just two Alien-Gods escorting you, but rather two Alien-God-Princes?
That realization hit much later than you would have ever thought possible.
The Alien part as well as the God part were much more groundbreaking than your exhausted mind gave them credit for, that was for sure. To your defense, your mind had probably simply not managed to actually wrap itself around the fact that two hotly debated theories were proven real right in front of your very eyes.
In stark contrast was the concept of royalty; something you knew existed, accepted the existence of and treated like an everyday existing thing. Which also meant that you knew what it basically meant to be around royalty, all the etiquette and strictly dictated behavior—Many rules you felt you had not followed so far.
Actually, there were probably quite an abundance of people who would switch places with you in but a moment’s notice—Perhaps not necessarily humans though, considering Loki had tried to annihilate them mere hours ago. Honestly, if anyone wanted to switch so very badly with you right now, they were more than just allowed to take your place.
Especially if it meant they would take all that pain you were feeling.
Yes. This was the time for people who had always believed in aliens, gods, and were loyal fans of royalty.
By now you felt exceedingly awkward, utterly embarrassed even, being in the arms of an Alien-God-Prince with your face flushed against his chest and unable to recoil even just the slightest bit, since keeping the pain you felt at bay drained so much strength it rendered you unable to move.
He didn’t seem to care much either way.
Apparently holding you was only the second worst case scenario, second only to a conversation with his father. You almost wanted to laugh, but when you looked up at him you didn’t catch the sneer you expected, the look of arrogance and superiority on his sharp features—only the expression of someone deep in thought, slightly distressed but nothing else, nothing false.
Surprising even yourself you gave a slim smile at that.
With that last thought, barely hearing a set of heavy, golden doors opening up for you to pass through, you finally gave into the darkness which had long since been calling your name.
——————
Thor hurried up a flight of stairs, trusting his little brother to be right behind him as he pushed against all doors crossing his paths, slamming them open with a force battering rams could only dream of.
Mere minutes ago, Loki had informed him that you had fallen comatose and when he turned to look at his brother he found him to be nearly unconscious as well, with his feet almost tripping over each other, his breathing much too loud for someone usually as composed and controlled as Loki.
“Loki,” he had said, concern overshadowing his earlier annoyance, “I can help, I can—“
His brother had shushed him, almost running against a column in the process before catching himself, shifting you in his arms and continuing on along his path.
“No,” he had answered before falling quiet and scurrying along the golden, wide halls next to the Golden Prince in silence. Pride was a fragile little thing—especially so for his little brother.
With another fierce push the last set of golden double doors flung open revealing the healing wings of the royal palace. The people inside, the healers inside were nearly going crazy as they spotted the two princes—out of which one had been presumed dead until just now. They were buzzing around in a haste while Loki carefully and clumsily, due to the chains connecting his handcuffs, placed you on the Soul Forge, nearly collapsing himself in the process.
“Easy, brother,” Thor spoke, firmly placing his hands on his younger brother’s shoulders who recoiled ever so slightly despite the exhaustion obviously dragging him down.
Thor was barely in the midst of pushing his brother to get his own condition checked, when the heavy golden doors burst open once more, assortment of Einherjars rushing inside in a cluster and parting to reveal the King, his father. Fury emanated from every ounce of his being as he stepped forward with a glower so sharp and deadly, sharks would have cowered under his glare.
With a gentle shove to at least seat Loki down in a chair Thor turned to face the King, straightening before quick steps hurriedly carried him over—hoping to sort this entire predicament as calmly as possible.
“So this is the mortal you have placed under your protection?” he all but growled, narrowing his eyes in a scowl directed at your unconscious form, “I had always thought that Jane would be the first—and only—Midgardian to ever lay their eyes upon the glory of Asgard.”
“Father, now is not the time,” Thor spoke urgently, walking back to the machine and motioning for him to follow—which he didn’t, “They truly helped us in bringing Loki back to us and therefore I am indebted.”
Noticing that his father didn’t follow him, he added on,
“If it had not been for us meddling with Midgard, this entire situation could have been easily avoided.”
There was an obvious accusation in the tone of his voice, knowing that it had been the King All-Father himself who forced the ninth realm into everyone’s focus; stripping Thor off his powers and banishing him from Asgard to live on Earth.
Odin did not comment on his son’s nearly sarcastic allegation.
“If I have been informed correctly, you had wanted to leave for Midgard when Heimdall and Frigga caught a glimpse of Loki in their visions, discovering him to be alive and wrecking havoc.”
The king took an almost intimidating step closer to his adopted son, who was so terribly close to fainting he literally slumped in the chair he was positioned in as if dead, only his eyes moving to follow the entire ordeal. He had learned his place early—speaking the bare minimum to not at all whenever Thor and Odin were both involved.
“Then I must inquire as to why he is not thoroughly in chains, considering you were the one to propose his capture in the first place.”
Thor threw a quick, apologetic glance at Loki, wanting to tell him that this had been prior to the latest revelations, but his younger brother simply continued to stare at his advancing foster father, face unreadable as if made of stone. The blond pressed his lips into a thin line, thinking, before turning back around to his father.
“The situation has changed, father, he—“
Odin raised his hand into the air, effectively silencing him.
“No son,” he spoke, “Loki has proven more than once how dangerous he can be. What would I be for a king, if I do not ensure the safety of Asgard’s citizens?”
With a mere wave of his hand he summoned the Einherjars who had been waiting for orders, urging them to march their way to the young prince with fierce determination. It was terribly obvious they were siding with the All Father.
They yanked him from his crumpled up position on the cushioned chair into a standing position with such force that he stumbled into one of them and was pushed right off with a hard shove. The chains were replaced with similar ancient looking shackles clasped around his wrists as well as his ankles, old runes deeply edged into the sides to completely bind and hinder his use of seidr, his magic, the hidden illusion keeping his appearance in check fading with a yellow to green glow and revealing the multitude of scratches, wounds, bruises and general sickness evident on his skin and in his hair.
The sight of Loki in such a weakened state was horrible for Thor; he knew that his younger brother had been feeling unwell ever since the incident, but it having gone to such length he had felt the need to hide it under one of his many glamours—the pale, almost white and clammy skin of his face, the sunken in eyes with dark circles around them, not to mention the redness of his eyes and sweat collecting on his forehead—
An Einherjar stepped up with the final piece of his restraints—a collar to restrict his movements even further, locking it around his neck so sharply that a strained wince escaped his throat. He couldn’t even glare daggers around as he had not an ounce of strength left within him, Einherjars forced to hold him up by his limp arms, lest he would have fallen to the floor.
Thor’s face spelled disbelief, face contorted in horror as he watched Odin walk past him without any regard for either of their well-being, army of soldiers pulling his younger brother behind with the silver chains clutched tightly in their hands. Loki could do nothing but stumble and grimace in agony as he tried to not fall, tried to keep whatever he felt was left of his pride.
“Father!” Thor yelled after him, “Surely you cannot be serious—“
The King abruptly turned around.
“Oh yes son, I am indeed very serious. Although I will accept your former request in keeping the mortal with us until the healing process is completed. After all it would paint us ill, should we object to helping the Midgardian who was harmed due to our incompetence at keeping our prisoners in check.”
The blond was left behind dumbfounded, speechless and filled with terror as he watched Odin’s steps fading to walk out of the room, chains rattling with the occasional twist and pull as Loki fought to remain standing. He wanted to sprint after them, but felt uneasy in leaving you behind. So he took a few precautions, briefing the head healer Eir and her apprentice regarding your condition and explaining to them that they were to inform him immediately should there be any news.
Both of them nodded, while the younger one of the two, blue eyes contorted in sorrow, freckles on her dark skin not looking as vibrant as usual, watched the Prince storm off after his father, his facial expression betraying his frustration.