Providence Of Divinity || Loki X Reader

Chapter 22

You did not feel yourself falling.

Your vision turned to black as your fingers went limp. Loki watched you fall, panic taking over his body as he lurched forward, catching you as you were about to collide with the stone floor.

"No," he breathed frantically. There was an arrow jutting up between your breasts, stained with red. "No. No, no no. Wake up," he commanded, painfully aware that he was loosing his head. He laid you down gently, trembling fingers looking for a pulse in your neck. "Don't die. Don't die on me, that's not fair. That's not fair!  Don't die. Not here. Not on this miserable, cold planet. I--"

He found a pulse. It was weak, and fading. The arrow may have pieced a lung. Or your heart. He had no idea what damage may have been inflicted upon you, healing never was his forte, but he did realize rather suddenly that fixing you might just be the easiest thing ever. He could touch your Light with his own. How could he not have realized this sooner?

He bent over you, briefly resting his forehead against yours. "I know you said that you'd rather die than let me kiss you, but I'm hoping you'll forgive me for this," he whispered softly, pulling the arrow out of your chest with the hand he wasn't running through your hair. He covered your slightly-parted lips with his, inhaling deeply, then Breathed.

He felt a surge within him, and bright Light passed from his soul into yours. Your body convulsed, eyes snapping open, light shining from them very much like the brain-flashlights you had mentioned what seemed like so long ago in that cell. The halls of the chasm lite up, radiant. The wound re-knit itself, sealing completely. Power and strength beyond what your body had ever experienced flooded every muscle, overwhelming you.

Loki sagged, feeling he might tip over. Black spots covered his vision, desperate to drag him under. He held on, watching your back arc off the ground as you sucked in air. Then the light dimmed out of your eyes, and the meager glow of the dropped torch was the only source of illumination.

You moved up to your knees, palms against the ground supporting you, breathing loudly, body still lightly convulsing.

"Are you okay?" Loki asked, his voice barely strong enough to be audible.

"P-powerful," you gasped. Everything felt different. There was a burning in your chest, like a fire that fouled your limps. You slammed your fist down into the rock, and heard a crack. You barely felt the sting, but the rock had split under the strength of your hit. "What is this?"

Loki had no idea. You looked up at him, a grin distorting your features.

Your eyes were bright red.

Your grin faltered when you saw how rough he looked. Pale, weak, barely awake. "What did you do?" you demanded. "You did. . . that thing, didn't you? You gave me your strength."

"Evidently," he muttered, vertiginous.

Some part of your brain knew that this was very bad, but mostly, you just wanted to revel in this feeling of power. Your muscles were stronger than their natural state, responding unusually quick to commands. You felt invincible.

A light shown down the chasm, approaching at a steady pace. You rose to your feet, graceful, in control like never before.

"Hey, Ivrke, Reyovod? Is that you? What is keeping you so long?" The frost giant who was approaching called out. He spoke Jotun. You understood every word.

Loki looked up at you in panic. He couldn't fight. He was already fighting to remain conscious. You gave him a reassuring smile and winked, swiping your wrist downward. Your dagger fell into your palm. The muscle memory was not your own. You did not care.