Cellmates

5

Trigger Warning(s): Rape

As the days continued their slow and steady procession, Loki began to wonder when in the realm she was going to run out of things to do. He'd have gone mad by now if it weren't for the books, but she found countless ways to keep herself occupied despite having only a handful of things at her disposal. Today her ring of metal keys was the distraction. Having plucked each one from the ring, she was now lying on the floor and sliding them across it with the apparent intent of getting them within one of the three rings she'd drawn on the floor across the room. She tightly pursed her lips, pinching one eye shut as she readied to send another key to its fate. She moved it left and right until she'd lined it up and then gave it a solid flick of the wrist. For the third time since the game began, she replaced the key occupying the center ring in order to earn points, he assumed. That was, if she was keeping track.

After the seven or so keys were scattered across her makeshift scoreboard, she hopped to her feet and collected them, before returning to her perch and playing again with renewed vigor.

She'd been quiet today. He couldn't even force a witless insult out of her. She seemed remarkably focused on so trivial a task. Which made it all the more surprising when she spoke up without provocation. Still carefully aligning her next projectile, her face totally expressionless otherwise, she asked, "Was there some point to taking over my pathetic planet?"

That was rather blunt. What twisted train of thought had led her to such an inquisition? He could only imagine. "Of course there was a point," he retorted. "I wouldn't have expended such energy and resources for nothing."

"Well, it just seemed like an odd course of action considering how dim-witted and worthless we are. Doesn't do a god much credit to subjugate a bunch of humans."

Loki frowned. Is she serious? For the first time since she'd come here, he was genuinely unsure of her sarcasm. "Midgard was merely a consolation prize, dwarfed by a much higher cause. It was a casualty of war, suffering a self-inflicted wound. Had you humans not been so hungry for power, squabbling like animals in an attempt to wield a force you couldn't hope to control, perhaps you could have avoided the conflict entirely." She pushed another key toward the ink rings as if she weren't even listening. "My original intent had little do to with your pathetic planet, as you so aptly put it."

She rolled over, thrusting her arms into the air in silent triumph as she managed to get more than one key in the tiny center circle. He heard her sigh, her hands absently massaging her stomach as she stared at the ceiling. And then her rather deep stare settled on him. She folded her hands across her chest. "So what was your original intent?"

A hundred thoughts flooded his mind, but for some reason none of them stuck. He didn't latch onto any one in particular. Words eluded him. His silver tongue turned leaden in his mouth as he suddenly fumbled for an explanation. It was a quest for the honor he deserved – the power he craved – another chance to prove wrong all those who looked down on him as some petty excuse for a warrior. He meant to rule them, as was his rightful stead in the scheme of the realms. That was his intent? Was it not? Or was that a later developed notion to justify that he was once more wandering in the shadow of another. His lips twisted with disgust. Thanos thought me a puppet – a pawn, but that was the intent, was it not? He put the power and the purpose within his grasp asking only for the Tesseract in return. A simple task. A mortal could have accomplished it. So he bought into his scheme with the intent to deviate of his own accord when the timing was right. Means to an end. The intent was to be the last one standing – the one holding all the cards. Only then would he be free of the shade created with the potential of others. This was the intent. Was it not?