Abrupt Awakening
Light.
It was the first thing that pierced the darkness after it had kept you in the depths of its clutches for so long; little specs of light were starting to dance around in your vision in gold, in red, in blue—soft colors to calm your mind. Then a light buzz started to penetrate the quiet surroundings, ebbing and flowing like the tides with the moon. You welcomed the change, growing bored in the never changing void.
Sometimes you had felt like you were awake.
Catching glimpses of shifting blurs passing by but you were unable to respond as you felt a touch on your arm, your head and hair, your body—You tried to not dwell on it too much, rather focusing on the thing you felt.
Yes, the entire time, there was something.
Something small, tiny; infinitesimal even, pulling and tugging at the back of your mind like the strings of a harp being plucked by a gentle musician. It was faint but gentle, having been there since you had found yourself in the inky blackness and constantly reassuring you that you weren’t alone. A soothing warmth spread from it, easing the terror you felt at times when there was interaction with you that you couldn’t see, couldn’t reply to.
It reminded you of something you seemed to have forgotten, the feeling being eerily familiar somehow, though you couldn’t place it. But it felt enthralling, so very captivating but calming—and it almost seemed to push you to wake. Which is precisely why you decided to do so.
Your eyes opened just a crack.
You had no idea how much time had passed, for there had been no time in the void.
Colors were everywhere—most likely faces, blurry faces frozen still for a second before they seemed to run off somewhere, bustling around the room while you narrowed your eyes against the seemingly blazing light, burning your retinas even through halfway closed eyelids.
While the chamber was busy with life you started to carefully attempt to move your body; one finger, one toe after the other, until you could feel a tingly numbness in your arms and legs, moving on and focusing on regaining your senses, ignoring the voices chattering wildly around you.
You felt oddly refreshed despite having no idea where you were and what was going on. As if you were the Sleeping Beauty—having just woken from a long sleep and feeling as good as reborn.
And there was one thing you noted right away:
There was no pain.
With a loud booming sound piercing the dull haze around your head almost agonizingly so, the heavy double doors got thrown open so intensely you thought they may as well fly right out of the doorframe holding them securely in place. You tried to crane your neck to search for the source but right the next second a face popped up in your field of vision.
Once the blur subsided you caught the incredibly relieved but somehow sad expression of a man, his blonde hair falling on his shoulders as he gave you a wide grin. You tried speaking his name, but no sound came out. Only a dry cough, which prompted one of the healers around you to carefully bring a glass of water to your chapped lips and making you drink, albeit with difficulty.
Thor’s feelings of sorrow were so strong, you accidentally mirrored them.
“How are you feeling?” he spoke.
A smile graced your lips at his genuine worry.
“Fine—”
Your voice died out even before the word had fully escaped your tongue, another fit of coughs ripping through the tense atmosphere.
You looked around, eyes narrowing in the light as you searched.
“Your—brother?”
In the blurry images you held in your mind the last thing you could remember was Loki holding you in his arms, your face pressed snug against his dark tunic while the look gracing his features was so—real. Nothing like the air of condescension which seemed to surround him on a daily basis.
Oh yes. That otherwise terribly pretentious behavior made you feel rather sick to the very core.
Thor appeared mildly distressed upon hearing your question.
You saw it, right past his light smile and his sincere features; there was a form of grief hidden behind all of that.
Your voice gave up completely, rendering you unable to communicate and instead prompting you to throw him the best confused and worried glance you could muster with your back pressed into the mattress below and your head only turned slightly to look at him.
Why could you not move?
With an almost desperate look you asked for more water, carefully letting it run down your throat in hopes of regaining your ability to speak.
“What’s wrong—?” The voice coming out of your throat was hoarse and frail, but you were relieved that you managed to get the words out nonetheless.
His facade cracked ever so slightly.
Maybe you didn’t really say these kind of things to an alien-god. Or maybe it was because of his prince part—
Or, per chance, because you were one of the few people that remotely bothered to look behind his very own facade of optimism and happiness to find what he was truly thinking, truly feeling.
“I will tell you when you are better,” came his reply.
Now that didn’t quite help in the slightest.
Wasn’t Loki just right here moments ago? What had happened?
“First we need to ensure your treatment,” a calm voice cut in, quick steps carrying the older woman over to stand next to your bed, “Your Highness knows better than to overwhelm your mind.”
Thor forced a laugh despite the tension, trying to answer the woman’s light smile in his own way.
“This is Eir,” he introduced with a smile that could have almost come across as honest and genuine, were it not for your overly sensitive ability to pick up on hidden emotions and feelings.
“She is Asgard’s head healer and has been tending to you since you fell ill.”
“—and I will continue until you are healed,” she added on, “Together with my apprentice Aldís that is. She is currently carrying out an errand for me, but will aid you once she returns.”
You gave a feeble nod, trying to work out your current situation by little bits and pieces of information they dropped. Sadly it wasn’t nearly enough to understand. Your eyes trailed Eir as she moved to collect something from a desk in a corner of the room, returning with a bag in her hands and giving a pointed look at Thor.
“I will leave you in Eir’s capable hands now.” he said with a smile, walking over to the golden doors, “I am glad to see you awake, but please get some rest later. I will return tomorrow morning.”
With that he was gone and your focus directed itself back at Eir, who moved over to you and carefully heaved your body into a sitting position.
“It is good to finally see you awake,” she spoke, opening up the bag and taking out an object which seemed to resemble a regular, grey stone, “You have been in a coma for quite a while.”
With gentle movements she crushed the stone with her bare hands, letting the resulting powder fall into a glass of water which she brought to your lips, prompting you to carefully swallow it.
“We were unable to administer it to you while you were comatose, since your body had been busy collecting its strength to prompt you to wake—the Healing Stone would have only overwhelmed you.”
You gave a strained nod and a confused glance, deciding to postpone your questions as you watched her close the bag back up before positioning you back so that you might rest.
“Tiredness is a side-effect. Please rest, the healing process works best while the body is relaxed.”
Eir pulled the red, velvet blanket up to your shoulders, quickly checking your vitals before turning to leave.
“I will be back in the morning.”
You barely heard her steps fade away—medicaments kicking in much faster than they probably would have compared to someone from Asgard.
“Thank you—“
Your whisper was quiet and frail, but she heard it nonetheless.
“It is no problem whatsoever.”
With a dull thud the heavy double doors fell closed—and you laid on the bed in the darkness, falling right back into your thoughts. Your inability to properly talk hadn’t quite helped in coaxing out more information and it only frustrated you more; having to sleep but wanting to understand. You directed your gaze at the blackened ceiling, feeling your body sink into the mattress before your calm state was broken by a sudden revelation.
The revelation of what you had forgotten.
His brother. Loki.
The memories.
As if on cue something inside of you sparked with recognition; emotions entering, invading your mind. There was no pain, rather an odd warmth enveloping you and a vague hint of something scarcely painful scraping at the back of your head like a scratch you couldn’t reach—pain unable to properly break through.
But some memories came back, emotions.
The feelings of grief and dread, hatred and panic. Self-loathing and disgust.
The glimpses of an elderly man, a father; of falling into a void, leaving behind what once was a home, but now held no further meaning—
And along with it came the feeling that whatever had happened to you was what you deserved.
With a trembling hand you reached for your face, only to find you were crying. All these memories—now that they were inside of you—felt like they truly belonged to you. And always had. Even though you knew this wasn’t true. You used the back of your hand to carefully wipe the tears away, trying to control the sobs threatening to wreck your body—lest you alarm someone of your current condition.
It hurt so much.
The memories of a stranger hurting you so much.
Despite everything he had done to Earth and threatened to do to you; despite the fear you still felt lingering in your mind, impending to lash out whenever you saw him—
You couldn’t help but feel sorry. Terribly so.
Knowing that he couldn’t remember such undoubtedly important—judging by your reaction to it—events, leaving an inky blank space behind which had once been filled with information, with people, feelings and thoughts.
You definitely had to give them back as soon as possible—But first you should go and talk to him.
Finally giving in to the pull of sleep, you succumbed to the darkness.
——————
You couldn’t remember much from the dreams once you woke; only that they were rather vivid and filled with an odd sense of peace, a feeling of not being quite as alone as you probably should have been.
As you stretched your limbs to shake the sleep still wound inside of them you halted in surprise. Eir was right, you were actually able to move again. Upon trying to flex your arms you found that they were not yet quite as they had been before, slightly tingly mostly, but still surprisingly moveable after however long you had been out of business.
—Which was how long exactly?
Right in that moment the door opened, Eir entering with quick steps. You hurriedly pushed yourself into a sitting position and gave her a slim smile as she came closer to you.
“I see you are better,” Eir spoke, walking over and gently grabbing your wrist to check your pulse before pulling out a little hammer-like device and running some texts on your reflexes. It fascinated you that Asgardians seemed to run through similar procedures—or perhaps they only did so for humans. Perhaps Thor knew a bit about the human physique and passed on his knowledge to the healers.
Either way, there were still more questions sparking inside of your head and once she gave you a content nod, having finished her examination, your curiosity got the better of you.
“For how long was I unconscious?” you spoke up, confused glance directed at the healer stowing different devices away.
“For two weeks,” she replied placing another box into the drawer to her right.
Oh.
Okay, that explained just why exactly you had felt like utter garbage yesterday, why you had been unable to move and everything had seemed as if you were suspended in a tank filled to the brim with water. Suffocating and heavy.
“Okay, thank you—And what was that powder I had to swallow yesterday?”
It seemed like a great healing device after all—judging how you felt the day before you sure wished you had some of these with you at all times.
“These are Healing Stones—reserved for only the most urgent emergencies,” she started explaining, picking up the bag once more to get ahold of one, holding it out for you to see, “Usually they are for battles during war; crushed and immediately placed onto the wound. For internal injuries or similar predicaments it is possible to swallow the resulting powder with liquid; that is, as long as the person in question is still alive. Otherwise, they are useless.”
Your eyes trailed the Stone she held in her hands. It truly looked like a random stone someone had found on the floor; grey, plain and inconspicuous.
“They need to be utilized in an instant after having been crushed; otherwise they lose all of their healing properties. Unfortunately, they are rather easy to be broken.”
You nodded in fascination and watched as she carefully stowed them away, returning with a bowl in hand as well as another glass of water.
“You should eat something to regain more of your strength, and for that I have brought you some broth.”
You gave her an excited ‘Thank you’ before carefully starting to sip on the luckily not-so-boiling-hot-anymore soup, mouth curling into a smile at the taste.
She stood still for a moment, regarding you while deep in thought.
“I assume you may want to use the bathroom once you have eaten? Perhaps clean yourself a bit? While we have indeed taken care of you while you were comatose, there is only so much we could have done.”
That definitely explained the weird sensations you had while you had been unconscious. Your hand moved up to gingerly touch your hair, wincing at how greasy it felt. Biting your lip you tried to suppress a chuckle at the incoming thought.
Must be how the Alien-God felt at all times.
You could almost see it in front of you; his completely stiff and unmoving black hair from before your coma. It honestly may have also been because of a ton of hair products holding it in shape, but sometimes the difference between greasy and styled was miniscule.
“I would love to, yeah.”
“Then I will prepare the bath for you.”
You blinked, watching her disappear through a door to your right.
A bath. Being prepared. For you.
A phrase that first needed to sink in for you to understand. Given the circumstances it made a lot of sense, obviously. But it still sounded rather nice to your ears.
Meanwhile you continued with your breakfast, lunch—whatever—drinking it up until the last drop was safely tucked away into the depths of your formerly almost growling stomach. Eir emerged soon after, helping you heave yourself out of the bed. Apparently these Healing Stones were one hell of a device, for you felt no pain whatsoever, and barely any to no strain in standing, moving or walking. After insisting that you were indeed fine to go alone—you only wanted a quick rinse after all—you entered, mind circulating around far more important things.
Having a talk with Thor as well as with his Princeling Brother.
The bathroom looked interestingly traditional and fascinatingly beautiful all the same, colored in mostly gold, orange and some red. Positioned in the corner was a big, marble bath; few Bubbles shimmering and swimming around in it and soap was neatly placed on a stand next to it for you to reach. In quick movements you stripped off your clothing, letting it fall to the floor and entered the bathtub. Against your very will you found yourself wanting to stay longer, trying to relax at least for a bit, for the water was warm and soothing.
Yet your mind seemed to run in circles. In circles over and over again, running wild thinking of the Alien-God.
Of Loki.
Of the memories.
Before you could dwell on it for too long you forcefully discarded the thought, eagerly scrubbing your hair and body with soap before rinsing it with water. It felt nice, the sensation of all the grease and dirt from the past days getting washed away, far away just like the emotions you tried to lock away in your mind.
Stop it, you scolded yourself, Think of something else.
But even after getting out of the water, drying yourself off with a fluffy towel and desperately trying to get into the clothes that were neatly positioned on a hanger for you to grasp, you found yourself unable to fully avert your attention. You forced your mind to be caught by the task at hand, while you fastened the different parts of clothing to your body.
It was almost as if they had tried to give you clothing which resembled your own, but failed badly. At least it didn’t appear to be too traditional, pair of dark pants along with a simple sort of shirt, which was almost too long to be classified as such. Luckily there was also a nice, simple coat for you to wear. You already loved the fake sense of anonymity you felt it would give you, knowing that you—much to your dismay—couldn’t bury yourself in your beloved scarf and goggles any longer. It had been like your second skin after all; now this coat would have to suffice.
Once you got out of the bathroom your eyes fell on Thor, who was in an animated conversation with the brunette head healer, hands wildly gesticulating in rapid movements. Upon hearing the door creak both of them turned around and looked at you, Thor’s lips tugging upwards into a smile that only halfway reached his blue eyes.
“Thor!” you exclaimed with a bright smile on your face, watching as he sauntered closer and his smile turned more genuine at your optimism. There was a dark coat draped around his shoulders as well, and it honestly made him appear much less superior and more common; touchable and connectable in a way.
He spoke your name in return, giving a short, polite greeting. His hand patted your back as he got close enough and while your eyes caught his, an image out of the memories covered his face; expression overlaying filled with terror and your mind spiraled right back into the depressing thoughts of falling to your death by your very own choice.
His hands moved to be firmly placed on your shoulders in no time, your name repeated on his tongue in a state of mild panic.
“Hm?”
“Your face turned pale—We were worried.”
“Ah,” you thought it over, but just couldn’t get all of that out of your mind, so you opted for a direct approach, “Can you tell me what happened now? Can I speak to your brother?”
He fell silent at your sudden requests, weight slightly shifting from one foot to the other and you felt his hands on your shoulder tighten for but a split second before he released you from his grip.
“I—“ he paused, “Yes and—probably.”
Why the hesitation?
“Thor,” you spoke, voice adapting a rather serious tone, “What’s wrong?”
The way his glance cast to the side for a second, how his brows drew together on his forehead and a small frown graced his lips—It couldn’t be anything good if not even Thor managed go cast his usual optimistic demeanor over it.
“I will explain,” he said, gaze hushing over to Eir who nodded and retreated out of the room, golden doors falling closed behind her and leaving the two of you alone.
As much as you wanted to know and understand, the atmosphere felt so tense it almost made you reconsider your decision.