Stay (Drabble: Loki//Asha)
Loki watched in the shadows as Asha was helped onto the stool that put her at the correct height for the wheel she would be strapped to for the knife-throwing act, stress tensing every muscle and sharpening all of his senses. He regretted giving her permission to replace Helen in the act, but as furious as he was that he had to lose two valuable members of his circus, he would not allow Helen to continue on with this act whilst pregnant. He may not care for children, but he took care of his company just as they took care of him. Helen’s husband strapped Asha onto the bloodstained wooden wheel with the leather restraints and then stood back, spinning the wheel on one of its axes to show the audience the strength and truth of the bonds. The lights dimmed until the only light in the room was a spotlight on Asha, the wheel, and Victor, the thrower, the cover of fog Loki kept roiling over the ground within the tent making them look as if they were floating on their own island. Music began to play, dark and low and ominous, with a hypnotic line of low, bass Latin chanting that raised chills over the entire audience.
Victor raised his hand and made a circling motion. From the shadows Loki did a smaller version of the same motion, the wheel beginning to spin like a clock on yet another axis as Victor picked a knife up and one by one began to slice up a chunk of meat to prove they weren’t dummy knives. Then, as the music grew more intense, the lights began to strobe, drawing a collective gasp from the crowd. Victor began to throw the knives, and with every move Loki’s stomach gave an unpleasant lurch, a small bout of relief passing through his body with every wooden thunk of a blade sinking into the wood. Right on cue Asha began to shriek as if the knives were hitting her, raising the hair on Loki’s arms. Perhaps he would keep her as part of the act: her scream was absolutely blood curdling, surprisingly much better than Helen’s had been.
Yet another knife was thrown, but the telltale thunk Loki was expecting never came. Instead a strange, more muted impact was heard, and for a moment the screaming choked off into silence. Loki’s stomach vanished and his heart leapt into his throat—when Asha was hurt, she didn’t scream, she passed it off as no big deal. The screaming started back up, but there was a strained edge to it, as if it were more difficult, and she stopped to breath more frequently. Loki strained to see where she’d been hit, but even his eyes had trouble picking the small handles out between the strobe light’s flickering and the spinning of the wheel. Anxiety and—though he would not openly admit it—fear almost had him shutting down the entire show, but he knew she would be furious if he stopped the show just for her. Finally an unnaturally pale Victor raised his hand to stop the spinning and turned Asha around to show the audience where the daggers had hit. Asha was grinning widely, but Loki’s heart stopped when he saw where the knife had made impact: there was a little, glimmering handle protruding from her chest, staining her red and gold costume with dark, shiny blood. Victor helped her down and she took her bows, walking back to the shadows as if it were all a part of the show. Loki began to stride over to her, knowing she would need to be seen to immediately, but as he neared her eyes found him and she glared furiously at him.
Show now. Healing later, she demanded silently. I’ll keep the blade in to help stem the bleeding. And with that she slipped out the back, a panicked Victor following anxiously behind. The look Loki gave him right before he slipped out of the tent left no doubt in Victor’s mind that he very well might not live to be a father.
Once the final bows of the night had been taken (early, as Loki had cut several acts to get to Asha), Loki stormed from the tent to Asha’s trailer, Koh following behind him with a constant stream of growls scaring any curious patrons away. Frank appeared on his left and caught his arm. Loki raised his fist to punch him to the dirt when Frank’s thoughts reached him: Asha was not in her trailer. She hadn’t made it that far before the knife had slipped out on its own, slicked with her blood, and she had began to spray blood like a fountain, her aorta nicked.
Asha was not conscious, and was still bleeding. Loki lowered his fist.
“Show me,” He demanded in an icy growl, his tone not borne of anger but of fear, and this time he knew Frank could see it. Frank span around and pointed to Victor and Helen’s trailer, his hand shaking as Loki swept between the trailers and up the stairs of the one he had indicated.
“Out. Now.” He snapped at the people in the room. They all stared at him in fear and even a hint of pity, frozen in place by their shock. “OUT!” Loki bellowed, making the entire room cringe. They all scampered from the room, finally leaving his view of Asha clear. She was white as a sheet, her entire front stained brown and red with drying blood, her chest bared so that they could reach the wound. “Asha,” he breathed, sinking to his knees beside the couch they had laid her on. The folded up fabric they had been trying to stem the blood flow with was almost completely soaked, and with shaking fingers he removed it, whispering spells of healing furiously, his eyes darting between her wound and her closed eyes.
“Come on, Feathers, you can’t leave me now….” He growled, placing his entire hand on her chest to let pure magic soak into her and hopefully give her weak heart a jump. “Don’t stop fighting now, Asha,” he murmured, trying to fight down the rage, panic, and desperation he could feel bubbling up inside. “You always fight, you make me furious fighting, don’t—don’t stop now.” Beneath his hand he could feel her weak heart begin to stutter unevenly, its pumping growing almost imperceptible. “Damn it, Asha! Don’t you dare!” He hissed between clenched teeth, fury winning out for the moment: fury at her for being so damn stubborn and self-sacrificing—it was a circus for fuck’s sake—and fury at himself for having given in to her and letting her take part in the act when he knew it would end badly. “You stay here, Feathers! You stay with me! I want you to stay with me, I need—” He choked off his next words. Her heart sputtered out its last beats beneath his hand and suddenly his entire body went numb. No, no, no, no—I need you, Asha, he thought, unable to speak the words aloud, attempting to keep the oncoming pain from consuming him.
I need you.
There was a stirring beneath his hand and Loki’s heart skipped a beat, his eyes searching her face for a sign of movement. Her eyes flickered beneath her lids and she opened them slowly.
“Hello, Ringmaster,” she breathed weakly, a ghost of a smirk dancing over her white lips. Loki sighed heavily, his muscles going limp. He leaned against the side of the couch and fought the urge to pull her into his arms and hold her tight against his chest. After a moment his relief passed and his anger flared back up.
“If you ever do that again, I will kill one of the animals,” Loki threatened coldly, his worn expression not matching his icy tone. “Now cover yourself up, no one wants to see that,” He joked, waving his hand and closing her shirt back up to cover her bared chest. She glared at him, and he couldn’t help but smile.
His Asha was back.
