Recompense [Fólkvangr End, Book 1] [Loki Fanfiction]

Chapter Six

Author's Note: This came out early as a treat. Well, that sounds terribly vainglorious, I mean as enticement and because I make no guarantees about when I will update again. There is no system of consistancy here, however, I will do my best to not make the gaps unbearable. FINALLY! Loki shall speak, and he shall speak his mind. I hope my Loki dialogue comes across realistic--it's tough stuff. I apologize for the serious brevity of the chapter, and warn ahead for  language. Anyway, nobody reads these, SO, please, read, comment and vote! 

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I enter the glorified cage for the first time, the door closing and locking behind me. Loki turns and looks at me, his eyes wide. He seems overjoyed that I am alone. Maybe it's that...or the thread cutter I am holding tightly in my hand.

"I come in peace," I joke, holding them up. I cross closer to him and he simply stands his ground, staring me down. I take a deep and focused breath.

Don't let him screw with you, Thor had said. Okay, not exactly what he said.

I reach my hand out for him, beckoning him to come closer to me. He does so without hesitation. "I get to take your stitches out. Odin's agreed to let you speak. But don't you doubt for one second that he won't sew it right back up again."

Loki looks amused, if anything. His terribly haunting green eyes are boring directly into mine. I reach both hands up to his face and I attempt to hold his jaw steady with one hand whilst I cut with the other. I struggle to reach him properly--I am by no stretch of the imagination short. In fact, on Earth I'm considerably tall for a girl. Makes sense, I suppose. I've got literal giant genes. Still, Loki is taller than I...and for that matter, may even be thinner. Not fair.

The scissors snip audibly as I cut the first thread loose and he winces. My fingers brush his dry lips as I cut, carefully and precise, right down the middle. His lips open just slightly so that I can poke the scissors into his mouth and cut the threads still attached. I grip the end of the first broken thread and pull slowly and carefully, but I can feel the resistance from his skin against the thread. Blood pools around the tiny holes. My stomach turns a bit and I yank hard and quick, figuring that maybe that age old expression applies best here. He hisses at me.

"I can't believe I agreed to this," I shake my head side to side. I can feel him grit his teeth again under my touch and I laugh. "I'm almost done, I promise."

His hand reaches up and flexes before he drops it back to his side uselessly.

I tug the final thread free and Loki stares at me, anguish in his eyes. I can nearly sense the things he wishes to spit at me. But he doesn't say anything right away. He reaches up and grabs my jacket, the fabric clutched in a tight fist.

"Mark my words, mortal, your pretty little neck will be the first to snap when I break Asgard," he hisses before releasing me from his grasp. His fingers touch his lips absently.

"A thank you would have sufficed, you know," I grunt. "But fine. Have it your way, asshole."

"Pardon?" He looks at me like I have abruptly woken him from some dream and I sigh and shake my head.

"I called you an asshole, asshole," I smirk.

"How dare you speak to a god like--"

"You owe me," I interrupt and he stares at me incredulously. "I got your big, arrogant mouth unstitched--you're welcome--and I'm going to get you out of this cell. Had you been kind, I could have gotten you out today, but you opted to be a complete asshole."

He lunges at me and I wince, backing away. His hand is raised, but he opts not to strike me and instead slowly lowers his hand.

"I owe you nothing, child," he hisses at me, words dripping with venom.

"Right, of course, Mr. High-and-Mighty. You owe me nothing," I roll my eyes. I would take his soul as payment if I could. I mean, I don't know what the hell I would do with it, but it seems like a fairly justified payment. Then perhaps I could control him and this would all be over. I'm already starting to tire of this little game of his. Maybe it's time I create my own... "Look at me, I am Loki, nobody loves me and I take it out on the only people who try to give me a goddamn chance, boo-fucking-hoo."

"It would give me no greater pleasure than to squeeze the very life out of you where you presently stand. You are a dull, pitiful waste of human existence. Had I planned better, I would have been more successful on Earth. I should have rid the world of such a woeful waste of space when I had the opportunity," Loki hisses, leering at me, his green eyes nearly violent. I want so badly to punch him in one of his pretty eyes. Asshole.

"I don't like you," I mutter at him in futile retaliation, but his face isn't changing. It either doesn't affect him, or he literally does not care. And that rattles me to the core. I want him to care--I don't know why, but I want it to at least prompt some sort of response from him.

His lips curl up and around his perfectly white teeth, smearing them with fresh blood. "I know."

"And it doesn't even bother you in the slightest?" We both know this is a rhetorical question. He shifts his posture so that his tall frame leans in towards me, shoulders hunched, his face even closer to mine now, his eyes taunting me. Oh man, am I regretting this whole decision. Give Loki speech, I said. It'll be fine, I said. I am an idiot. Because here I am, allowing him to get right under my skin, those long fingers of his prodding and twisting at every nerve ending, ruining me from the inside like some demented virus. The worst part is the utter delight it gives him and there is nothing I can truly do but sit back and take.

"Do you honestly think, with the copious amounts of beings across the universes who despise the very thought of me, that I'm going to be bothered by one simple little girl who doesn't like me? I've had stronger feelings for fleas, child," Loki hisses back at me. Instead of being insulted, I decide to stand my ground, it's the least I can do. Besides, I don't believe he'll hurt me. Not really, anyway.

I laugh at him. In his face, but this only makes him smile wider. Damn him... "Oh, Loki, Loki, Loki. You think that you have every right to pity yourself. You went out and destroyed humanity just because people liked Thor better, because he was in line to become the ruler of Asgard. Because you couldn't stand to see someone else prevail. That's pathetic."

I turn my back to him, positive that I've gotten him slightly worked up. I'm enjoying every moment of this dangerous game now. Does that make me no better than him? It is perverse, what we will do for the sake of doing...I can only hope to wear him out soon enough.

"What right do you have to call me pathetic, you incessant human?"

I turn around and smile at him. "Oh, I'm not a human."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I am not of Earth! Ooo!" I waggle my fingers at him, and throw up a 'live long and prosper' for good measure. The joke breezes right by him but it amuses me, and that's all that matters.

"I do not understand..." Loki purses his lips, his brow furrowing in the middle, skin folding in confusion.

"See ya later, Loki, old chap!" I wink at him and strut off, the door sliding shut behind me once more.

"Answer me!"