Lost in the Woods

Chapter 7

Loki jolted awake at the unpleasant scrape of metal on rough stone. His opened his eyes blearily to see, from the faint light that shone beneath the door, his next food instalment had arrived. Since starving himself hadn't gotten the trickster anywhere, he had resumed eating sometime during solitary. However he never had much of an appetite, especially for the new menu.

The trays were usually laden with a bowl of clear, lukewarm soup, a few pieces of bland tasting meat settled at the bottom. Often to accompany that was a piece of bread - not stale like one might expect from a prison, but neither very appealing. The dough's gritty texture made him ache for something soft and white. Two long tubes of some kind of raw vegetable were included every other meal. He still hadn't identified the plant species, assuming it was packed with vitamins essential to keep his heart pumping. A tin mug of water always accompanied his food, unpleasantly just above room temperature.

However, this time when Loki dragged the tray closer his nose quivered, detecting an abnormality.

There, perched next to his water, in between the soup and the bread, was a peach. He rubbed his eyes, sure that it was a trick somehow. Surely it was another hallucination. When the fruit didn't disappear Loki mustered the courage to reach out and pluck the orange-pink globe from the tray, holding it reverently.

This must be some kind of trick. Loki thought sadly, Any second now the guards will realise their mistake and barge in here to take it back.

But, after a tense span of time, the liesmith noticed that there was no angry shout, and despite his fears, the door didn't open.

Curious.

Loki turned the peach slowly in his stiff hands, becoming aware that with each rotation his fingers were becoming increasingly sticky.

Even more curious.

The prisoner rolled the fruit over in his palm and saw that on the bottom there was an incision to the pink skin. In the dull light he could make out the wet shine of a trail of juice that had dribbled out of the hole.

Funny. Whoever was thoughtful enough to send me this peach wasn't all that gentle with it. Loki mused, finding it all very contradictory. His thoughts turned dark. Perhaps it's poisoned. Maybe someone couldn't wait until the Order decided to lop my head off, and decided to be rid of me while I was vulnerable. He continued to turn the peach over in his hands, enjoying the sensation of it's soft fuzz against his skin. Reminds me of a Misgard fairytale.

Loki heaved an exasperated sigh. He didn't have the heart to ponder over this latest revelation. The piece of fruit, so seemingly innocent resting in his palm, was quite possibly a mouth-watering death sentence. What better to tempt a lonely prisoner that the sweetest of fruits Asgard could provide? The mortals on Misgard named a similar fruit "peach", but their species really couldn't be compared.

Perhaps I should just leave it on the tray. He contemplated. Death has always seemed a better alternative to this meaningless existence, but really, perhaps I exaggerate in my frail state. Now that I hold it in my hands, the idea of ending my life seems rather repugnant... But still, for all my suspicions this sweet offering may be as harmless as it appears. If only I knew who desired to bestow this gift upon me.

Curiosity overruled his common sense and Loki called out to the guard that he knew was stationed on the other side of the cell door.

"Who sent me the peach?" he all but choked out, trying to form words after over a year of silence. "It would mean a lot if you were able to tell me."

There was an uncomfortable absence of sound. Loki bowed his head, fending off the pain of rejection.

"Please," he gasped, all but wheezing with the effort to speak, "please answer."