2 | 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 ▹ LOKI LAUFEYSON

xxiii. the soul

A M O R A

Amora watched silently as Loki disappeared into the forest, her brow furrowed slightly.

Ever since Vormir, something had been wrong. He was quiet—abnormally quiet—staring off into space with haunted eyes. And when his mind did not appear elsewhere, he would watch Amora. His fidgeting did not go unnoticed either.

She only hoped that he was alright. She needed to know that he was alright.

"So what are you two?" Gamora asked, startling the sorceress who proceeded to choke on her food.

After a few sharp coughs, Amora swallowed and looked at Gamora with wide eyes. "We're friends."

The assassin narrowed her eyes. "Are you sure?"

Amora nodded her head vigorously and words rushed out of her mouth. "Yes. We're just friends. I...I'm betrothed to someone else."

Gamora gave her an incredulous look. "Does your betrothed know about all of this?" She motioned around them.

"Well...no. But he's away to war," Amora added.

The assassin regarded her for a moment. "Is this guy your 'something worth fighting for'?"

There was a beat of silence before she answered, "Yes."

Of course she would fight for Theoric; he was a good man. Anyone who meant him harm could not possibly have a true or noble reason, only cruel aggression.

"When we first met, you told me to find something to fight for," Gamora paused, glancing away, "but I think your thought may be a little off."

Amora frowned as the green woman went on. "I have realized that there are plenty things to fight for, even kill for: people, causes, ambitions. But I haven't found anything worth dying for...not yet, at least. Maybe my sister, but even for her, I would hesitate."

Setting the remnants of her food down, Gamora leaned forward. "Would you die for this man?"

Amora opened her mouth, but then hesitated. Would she die for Theoric? Sure, she would try anything within her power to save anyone, but to risk everything?

She imagined herself sacrificing her life for him, stepping in front of a incoming blade. But the image felt wrong.

The thought of an attacker charging into her healing halls then blossomed in her mind.

I would die for my patients. The thought came automatically.

It felt like a knot was in her throat, as though her guilt was choking her. She was willing to die for Theoric, but it was not out of love; it was out of duty.

"Would you die for Loki?"

And the knot dropped to her stomach. Her mind immediately went to the look in Gamora's eyes when they heard about the substantial bounty on Loki's head on Xandar and the automatic rush of protectiveness that had washed over Amora like a cold wave.

Swallowing, Amora straightened and tried to collect herself. "Well, if the time comes when I know the answer to either question, I will be sure to let you know," she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Her mind scrambled for another topic to discuss. "What do you wish to do with the map?"

Gamora sat back and looked toward the ship. "Burn it."

Amora's eyebrows shot up at the finality in Gamora's voice, but she nodded. They could not afford the map—and the Soul Stone—falling into the wrong hands.