After Loki's lost bet with Thor, D.B. Cooper causes chaos on Midgard, and a war with Vanaheim rises in the East, so Odin proposes a wager of his own to his youngest son:
An arranged marriage, one for the public. If the terms of the deal are honored...
Warnings: grief, mentions of death and dying, implied murder, fear
Summary: Loki tries to hold it together while he waits for Adora to wake up.
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Loki rubbed his eyes harshly in an attempt to stay awake. It was nearing midnight, and he'd spent hours by Adora's side.
Holding her uncharacteristically cold hand, Loki whispered to her under soft candlelight. Every now and then he'd brush his hands through her curls and kiss her forehead.
He'd sponged the blood and the black from her face and chest a few hours ago, eventually cleaning her hand on one side as Wylen did the other.
His mother had bandaged up his hand and soaked it with a healing solvent, and soon enough the purple embers were replaced by pink skin as it healed itself.
The two men said nothing to one another, and even after hours of waiting and watching her, neither spoke a word. Odin had taken Thor and Hela with him to the dungeons, and his mother and Tanana had excused themselves to retrieve some more bandages for her healing wound while Vali stayed behind.
Aela was eventually apprised of the situation, and after a bit of shock, she asked no questions, instead leaving to assist Fryla in watching Milja for them. She came in again as Loki's eyes began to droop, the exhaustion of a falling adrenaline rush taking over him after the long night. Aela draped a blanket over Wylen first, and then Loki.
She watched Adora for a long moment, her eyes swimming with tears until she quietly excused herself. Loki appreciated her dedication to Adora, a woman she hardly knew, but cared for nonetheless.
He'd done right choosing Aela as a bed partner and now as his most trusted servant. He trusted her to take care of Adora and now Milja. She was his friend, and now she was Adora's. Aela was steadfastly loyal, kind to a fault, even when she was angry with him.
Adora would be happy knowing she was by her side through this.
"Adora likes her," Wylen murmured, his voice cracked dry from not talking and keeping his jaw clamped shut for so long. "She says she's very sweet."
"She is," Loki whispered back, but he kept his gaze on his betrothed.
Her face was no longer contorted in pain, instead lax and peaceful as she was when she slept next to Loki. He would find comfort in it if he knew for a fact she would wake, but he didn't, and it sat horribly heavy in his gut.
"Thank you," Wylen said quietly, and Loki finally tore his eyes from Adora to look at her grief-stricken father. "For all you did tonight."
"I did nothing," Loki began, and tears threatened to form again. "I left them to be murdered."
Wylen shook his head and frowned, "He would have just waited for another moment."
"You can't blame yourself, nephew," Vali spoke up from his spot at the foot of the bed. He sat in a chair with his elbows on his knees, his fingers threaded tightly under his jaw. "The Vanaheim Crusaders dedicate their lives to eradicating the Ljósálfar. King Wylen is right, the assassin would have just found another way to finish his plan."
