Spice is a normal woman living a normal life in New York when she meets a tortured and mind-controlled Loki. She doesn't know he is mind-controlled though and ends up falling head-over-heels in love with the God of Mischief. What she doesn't know is...
Loki held Spice tenderly in his arms as she collapsed, making sure she didn't fall to the floor.
He picked up her unconscious body and placed her in the bath tub. Her face was red along with her neck and hands. Very gently, he removed her clothes and gasped at her naked body.
Every part of her was scratched with self-harm scars. And he noticed the scar on her chest, tears springing to his eyes when he remembered the manner in which she had gotten that, the pain she had had to endure. He had felt that and by just looking at her chest, he could feel the burn of that wicked knife.
Her hands and feet were blistered and so was her neck. Her chest and stomach were red, as if she had just been scalded by something hot. Her skin was as hot as a frying pan.
Loki turned on the cold shower and she moaned.
"Shh," said Loki, cradling Spice's head to make it rest on the edge of the bathtub upon a folded towel.
"Loki," she moaned and he chuckled.
"You need to cool down, darling."
Spice opened her eyes slightly, her lids drooping down from sleep.
"I should get up," she grumbled. "I am a Goddess, for fuck's sake. I don't need to have a babysitter."
"I am not a babysitter, sweetheart," said Loki, gently pouring the water over Spice's neck and she sighed from relief. "You have had a really tough time and you haven't eaten anything for almost two weeks. You need to rest."
Spice tried to get up but then she collapsed again, groaning painfully.
"My body stings," she complained.
"You will feel better in some time," Loki said.
Loki continued pouring the cold water over her and when he saw the redness give way to the normal dusky colour of her skin, he drained the water. He put one of his clean cotton shirts on her and carried her to the bed. He laid her down gently. He had almost left her bedside when she reached out and cupped his face.
"Merry Christmas, my sweet little trickster," she said and smiled. Loki looked at the clock and saw that it had just struck twelve.
"Merry Christmas, my precious treasure," he said and then removed her hand from his cheek and placed it on the bed. He hated that their first Christmas was this messed up, but he had to make up for it.
He remembered Spice had once mentioned her favourite food to be an Indian dish named Biriyani and he smiled as an idea popped into his head. He attempted to leave the room when Spice caught his hand.
"Don't leave," she said, her voice was broken and needy.
"You need to sleep, sweetheart," said Loki gently, prying Spice's fingers away from his hand and tenderly cupping her face.
"No. If I sleep, they will come back."
She was tired and she needed food as well as sleep. She couldn't even keep her eyes open. And yet Loki could see the fear that lingered behind that fatigue. With a featherlight kiss on her forehead and a harmless spell to keep her mind clear of intruders, he induced sleep into her system.
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