Loki/OFC Rated M (may go up to E in future chapters) Trigger Warnings: Angst, talk of suicide, therapy, unhealthy family dynamics, mention of torture and mind control, touch starved
Loki’s plans to conquer and rule Midgard have come to a disastrous end. After being captured by the Avengers, he is being held on Earth. Odin has refused to interfere, and the outlook for the God of Mischief appear bleak. His only hope may lie in one mortal woman, a Psychiatric expert brought in to interrogate him.
Dr. Caroline Thorpe is intrigued by Loki and thinks that more lies beneath his actions than is commonly known. Can she find out the truth before he is shipped off to die for crimes against the Earth? And can Loki bring himself to care?
She knew better than to let Loki press her buttons that way, Caroline thought as she prepared for bed. A bed she would soon be sharing with the stupidly handsome God.
At least the sleep-set he had gotten for her was comfortable. She had been worried it would be something impractical for actually sleeping and had been quite prepared to rifle through his drawers again. To her surprise however, there was a dusty rose cotton top and white and rose striped sleep shorts in one of the bags. They were soft and comfy as she pulled them on, even if the shorts were a bit… well, short.
As she lay in bed with the covers pulled up to her waist, Caroline tried to relax and center her mind. They were both adults. It was silly to think that they couldn’t share a sleeping surface. Yes, Loki might have flirted with her in the past, but that was only to avoid her more probing questions. Determinedly she ignored the brief moment earlier that night when she had thought that he meant to kiss her. It had surely been her overactive imagination.
A sharp knock on the door proceeded Loki into the room. He smiled as he looked at her in the bed. She felt small in the sea of blankets and pillows and her heart beat loudly in her ears.
“They fit properly?” He asked, gesturing in her general direction.
“Yes, thanks,” she answered. Then, to have something to say, “I’m surprised they’re not green.”
"I am aware that other colors exist,” he said with an air of exasperation.
“All evidence to the contrary,” She quipped, eyes looking pointedly at the curtains, bedding, and lastly at his distracting pants.
"Touche," he allowed, sitting on the bed and making her pulse pound even faster. "It is a habit from my days as a child, I suppose. It was easier for the nurses charged with looking after my brother and me to color code us, as it were. Thor, naturally, was given red, the color of war, passion, blood... all of those things Asgardian's prize. Then, when I came along, green was chosen as my color. It made sense. Green is the complimentary color to red, opposite on the color wheel, and Thor and I were opposites made to complement each other. At least, that's how I saw it at first."
"What changed?" she asked quietly, noticing how he was worrying at his hand, a sure sign that he was agitated.
"I came back early from training one day. I had torn my trousers and had not yet learned how to mend them myself with magic. I entered our suite of rooms - Thor and I shared in our childhood years - and overheard Ygritt, the mistress of our wardrobe talking to one of the maids."
He was silent for a length of time, and Caroline wondered if he meant to go on. She had a feeling that he was regretting beginning this story and she kept herself perfectly still in hopes that he would continue.
"'The younger prince has a ways to go before he fills out like his brother,' the maid snickered, looking at one of my tunics. I was all too aware of my rail thin frame at the time, and it stung a bit to hear it mocked so openly.
"'That one will never be the warrior that Prince Thor is,' Ygritt replied. 'He is nothing but a weakling, hoping for status that will never be his. Such a sneaky little thing too. Always trailing after the Prince, weaseling his way in on adventures. Believe me, he will come to no good.'
"'But he loves his brother,' the maid at least stood up for me. I always liked her for that.
"'It's not love, it's envy,' the mistress replied. 'That's why I always dress him in green, cuz he's green with envy at his brother.'
"She had a good laugh over that. I laughed last, though. I planted one of Mother's diamond hair pins in her room for Thor to stumble upon, and he accused her of steeling. She was put out without a reference."
"Good riddance," Caroline said, thinking the woman deserved worse for being so cruel to a child. "Loki, you know she was wrong about you."
"That's just it," Loki said, a twisted look on his face. "She wasn't. I did envy Thor. He was brave and strong and everyone loved him."
"Most children feel admiration for their older siblings," she pointed out. "There's nothing wrong with that. Is that why you kept wearing green? Because you were punishing yourself?"
"In part, perhaps. It was also a reminder of what others thought of me, in case I was ever inclined to forget. They might bow and scrape and call me 'Your Highness' to my face, but I knew after that never to trust in such shows of deference. After a while, I grew to like the color. It matched my eyes, and my mother, Frigga, often commented that it became me. I suppose it became a show of defiance in a way."
"It does become you," Caroline said without thinking, and then felt her face flush once more.
"Thank you," he smiled fleetingly at her. "As the rose does you. It brings out the color of your cheeks. I thought it would when I saw it."
"Thank you, Loki," she said softly.
"It was nothing, a small expense."
"Not just for the clothes, although I am grateful for that. For sharing with me. I know that story could not have been easy to tell."
"It was long ago," he said, sliding into bed beside her. "It hardly matters anymore. I don't know why I even remember it."
Caroline knew, but she decided now was not the time to bring it up.
Loki waved his hand, and the lights went dark. They lay there for a bit, the only light a ray of moonlight slanting through the window. Caroline could feel Loki beside her, the pull towards him magnetic. His breathing was even and deep, indicating that he had already found sleep. She tried to keep herself as still as possible so as not to disturb his rest, but her mind was racing.
He had been so injured, repeatedly and from such a young age. No wonder he carried so much anger with him. Given the power he possessed, it was amazing that he had not done more damage as his psyche screamed out for justice. She wished that she could make him realize just how untrue so many of the claims made against him were, how much he truly was worth.
In her mind she imagined turning to him, her hand going to his cheek. She would brush away the fall of midnight hair that shielded his eyes and trace the sharp bones of his face with a gentle hand. How long had it been since someone had shown him that sort of tenderness? For that matter, how long had it been since she had received it herself?
More than anything, she longed for the courage to do as she imagined. To press her lips to his and see if they kissed her back. She wanted to comfort him, yes, but it was more than that, she would not lie to herself. She wanted him. The brilliant, mercurial, wounded God beside her. But he was a God, and she was an ordinary mortal. Besides, he had shared something with her, a hurt from his past, and she would not use that to manipulate her way into more intimacy than he was inclined to give. Instead of turning towards him, she turned away and pretended to fall asleep.
It was sometime later when, still awake, she felt him roll over onto his side. An arm reached out and curled around her, as if searching for some sort of anchor to hold onto in his dreams. She swallowed a quiet gasp and let herself be pulled closer until her back was pressed against his bare chest. Biting her lip to keep from reacting, Caroline molded herself to him, aware of every inch of hard muscle against her. He gave a small sigh and went still once more.
She lay for some time, not sleeping, just listening to him breath and feeling his heartbeat against her. She thought of the book she had read earlier that day, and slowly a plan began to form in her mind.
***
Loki did not sleep well at the most noneventful times. This had been true for most of his life.
For one thing, he liked being awake at night. Under the moon and stars the world seemed magic and possibilities endless. There was an excitement, a mystery to the darker hours that appealed to his soul.
For another, his brain was just too active to allow him to settle down with any sort of speed. It tended to go into overdrive when he settled in for the night. All of the worries of the day, of things said and unsaid, actions that might have been taken, threats lurking in the back of his consciousness, came roaring to life the moment he closed his eyes and tried for rest.
This tendency, there since birth, had become magnified to the extreme since his fall from the rainbow bridge. All of the pain and terror that he managed to keep just barely in check behind a facade of nonchalance during waking hours broke through in droves when he tried to relax for the night. He would be back, chained to the floor or ceiling, screaming for mercy from a creature who knew none. When he did catch a few moments of sleep, it would only be to waken a short time later, sweaty and shaking, feeling less refreshed than when he had drifted off.
All of this taken into account, he decided he must have been insane to intentionally trap Caroline into sharing his bed. Yes, he had gone into it deliberately, but at the time he had thought only of how alluring he found her. The mix of intelligence and kindness drew him to her, made him want to be closer to her warmth. He only wished he had thought through all of the implications.
As it was, he lay now on his back with one hand under his head, stiff as a board as tried not to disturb the woman next to him. He worked to even out his breathing so that she would not realize that he was lying there in agony, but rather think him as peacefully asleep as she soon seemed to be. He actually feared drifting off for real, lest his nightmares descend and he wake her with his screams and flailing.
He should have just kissed her earlier when the desire had seized him, timer be damned. Let the food burn, he would have found greater nourishment in the touch of her lips than he had in her admittedly delicious pasta dish. Instead, he had been a coward. While he knew in that moment she would have welcomed his embrace, a part of him worried that she would soon come to regret it, and that he would be trapped for the Norns knew how long with a woman who had rejected him or given herself to him out of pity.
And pity him she must! What in all the nine had prompted him to relate that story? He had not thought about it for centuries. Certainly, he didn't carry around hurt feelings about a careless word spoken by a lowly servant. True, he had always liked Ygritt before that, with her yellow braids and bright blue eyes. It had wounded his fragile young ego to have an attractive woman insult him, nothing more.
Why then could he not seem to shake the feeling that had come over him that day? A sad, lonely certainty that no one would ever find him good enough to love him for himself and not his title or his proximity to real power? To his horror, Loki felt his eyes begin to brim with tears, and he rolled onto his side to mask the movement of dashing them away.
The change of position brought him closer to Caroline, and his resistance cracked. She was asleep and thought him so as well, so there would be no real harm in it. If she woke, he could always claim it an unconscious action. He was desperate in that moment for a connection, and she was the first person in longer than he cared to admit who had been kind to him. Abandoning his pride, Loki reached out and pulled her to him, arm circling her.
She was warm and soft, and smelled like his shampoo and the wood fire in the hearth. As he held her, fighting back the tears, she molded herself against him, nestling into the curve of his body. The fabric of her top felt good against his chest, and the length of her legs twining with his brought a rush of blood through his body. On Asgard, women wore dresses, often down to the floor. Loki found that he was very fond of the Midgard fashion of pants, or even better shorts on certain women. The way, for instance, this pair hugged Caroline in an intimate manner, highlighting her shapely rear that he could feel blankets, was distractingly enticing. He could feel his cock hardening and was once more glad that she seemed to be a sound sleeper.
He would not take advantage more than he already was. Caroline had risked her future, her very life, to help him. He owed her everything. Yet in that moment Loki needed the closeness he found with her in his arms. It made him feel safer, perhaps even a bit wanted. Oh, not that she wanted him the way he so clearly wanted her, but she was willing to be with him, here, in this bed. It was more than he had been granted or dared to hope for in years.
He held her for a few hours, drifting in and out of a sleep still troubled, but less so than was his wont. At last, as the sun began to rise, he delicately withdrew his arms from about her. She made no protest, simply rolling over onto her other side and snuggling deeper into the pillow he left free as he rose from the bed. Placing ahead in light kiss on her forehead in thanks for a share of peace, he quietly made his way to the bathroom and then the kitchen to begin the day.
He was surprised when, not long later, she emerged from the bedroom. Caroline had bundled herself in the large purple robe he had purchased for her. She stumbled towards the coffee pot on the counter looking for all the world as though she had been the one to pass a restless night. After pouring herself a large mug and dropping into the chair across from him, she looked at him with a determined expression on her face.
"Do you have a computer with internet capability?" she asked without preamble.
"Well good morning to you to," he grumbled.
"Morning," she said begrudgingly, leaving off the modifier. "Is there a computer I could use?"
"Why?" he asked, antennae raising.
"Because I want to go online."
"Again, I ask, why?"
He was starting to feel a touch nauseous. He had trusted her, let down his guard. He had even gone so far as to reach out to her for solace, though she was blessedly unaware. Was she looking for a way now to betray him?
"There are things I want to purchase," she said.
"Ah. Well then, just give me a list and I will be happy to provide you with anything you need."
"No, I want to get these myself."
"I assure you Dove," he pasted on an insincere smile, "money is no concern."
"I'm not worried about money," she snapped, then, at his raised eyebrow, "you are a prince, after all, Sweetums."
"Sweetums?" his eyebrows shot up to his hairline.
"Dove?" she mimicked his tone.
"What is the problem then?" he asked, deciding to table the nicknames for a later conversation.
"It's a surprise," she grudgingly told him.
"I am afraid it is quite impossible to order anything from a computer, even if we had one," he told her, not liking this at all. "Any signal sent out could be used as a means to track us. Also, how would you have things delivered?"
"Well then, can you make me a list of stores and services that can be found downtown?" she was not letting this go. "I want to make a trip there this afternoon."
"I can take you downtown," he hedged, willing to go that far.
"Fine, but once I get there I need to be on my own."
"What, exactly are you looking for?" he demanded, at the end of his patience.
"Did they not have surprises on Asgard?" she asked waspishly.
"The last time I was surprised," Loki struggled to keep his voice even, "I was pulled off my feet and Hulk smashed into the floor several times. You will forgive me if I have grown wary of them."
He saw her make an effort to control the response that obviously wanted to erupt from her lips. Instead, she took a large swig of coffee and closed her eyes. He was rather sure that she was counting under her breath, but when she opened her eyes there was less irritation in them, replaced by an implacable determination that he was not sure was an improvement.
"Loki," she said, staring him down. "In the time I have known you, I have stolen the Tesseract, sprung you from jail, and accompanied you halfway around the world. I would think that this would buy me a bit of trust. I promise that I have no intention of running away, and I am not going to do something stupid to bring SHIELD down around our ears. I simply have a few errands that I would like to run myself. Now, I am going to go take a long, hot shower. Either write me down a list of shops in the village and put a little faith in me, or you can be the villain everyone else takes you for and tie me to the bed as your prisoner, because otherwise I am going."
Getting huffily out of her chair, she tromped off to the direction of the bathroom, leaving him staring opened mouthed at her. He wasn't sure what had gotten into Caroline this morning, but one thing was certain: it was going to be some time before the idea of her tied to his bed was gone from his mind.
This ended up much more melancholy than I originally intended. I think with everything going on in the world I am feeling a bit vulnerable and wistful, and Loki took some of that on. It does fit well with the theme of the story though, so hopefully you all still enjoyed. I promise, we will get to sexy times eventually, but for now it's still mutual pining.
