#post-thor

Waking up on a metal slab, liquid dripped upon his closed eyes. It was cool and soothing, making him almost forget where he was, if not for the constant hum of pain still throbbing through his body.

 “You’re awake,” a soft but neutral voice of a woman spoke. “You can open your eyes.”

 Slowly, he did as instructed, but not because he was told to, no, he needed to get the lay of the land if he as going to formulate an escape. His arms and legs were shackled to the table, his magic dampened. There were needles stuck into his skin, their purpose he could not be sure. It was unfortunate position he found himself in, but he wasn’t completely out of options.

 A light red hand held a small bowl above his face. The other hand wiped a rag gently across his brow, the strangely sweet-smelling liquid cooling him down, easing the dehydration headache that pounded against his skull.

 The healer sat the bowl to the side and he could see her fully. She wore a gray smock dress with a black waist apron. Her skin was pink, lightly tinted towards rose, but her hair was a fiery mix of red and gold. In an Asgardian court, and with proper attire, he might have thought her exquisite. But here, in Thanos’ stronghold, she was merely an obstacle.

 “You’re one of Thanos’ famed daughters?” Loki asked, gauging the woman’s response, wondering if perhaps she could be turned into a tool.

 “I am.”

 “You’re a healer?”

 “I am much more adept at mending wounds than causing them,” she still spoke softly, that neutral undercurrent a seemingly fixed point.

 “So, you are mending me.” Loki thought he might appeal to her better nature. He was extremely skilled at manipulating empathy, especially towards himself.

 “Father cannot torture you further if you die,” she explained with no change to her voice.

 Loki did not let it show how much that rattled him. The ideas and plans he had already started forming were now struck dead. This woman was just like her sisters, it seemed, ruthless and heartless.

 But that didn’t mean he couldn’t at least try something. “You patch people up to send back to him, to prolong their pain?”

 “You can end the pain at any time.” She continued to wipe fresh, cooling liquid across his forehead. “The fact that you still live tells me that you do not wish to die. I am obliging you.”

 “You… you’re obliging me?”

 She paused and gazed at him curiously. “Do you wish to die? If that is so, tell me and I will cut your main artery, here.” She pressed two fingers against his inner thigh. “You will bleed out within seconds.”

 There was so much pain, death might just be a blessing, but no, for all that had happened, Loki did not wish to die. He was far too important to die here, like this.

 The woman could read his answer in his eyes, and so she continued about her work. “I am of a mind, that when death comes, it should be on our own terms. This is my gift to you.”

 Death would not take Loki easily, he would never allow it. He would see this Other and Thanos burn on a pile of cinders made from their own empires. All he had to do was make it through the torture, gain his way out of the chains. Survive the pain.

 She slowly removed the needles from his skin. “Would you like to know a secret to surviving the pain?”

 Loki’s eyes flicked towards her, debating if she had telepathic abilities, or had simply seen too many strapped to her table, being patched up to be send back to him.

 “Reach inside,” her voice took on the smallest hint of darkness and rebellion. “Find that one emotion, that one memory, that one piece of you that can never be broken. Trust it to keep you alive, for as long as you can feel it, you still breathe.”

 Feel it, so it could be used against him? There was nothing, not anymore. Loki’s life was a lie, from his very birth. A runt among giants. A stolen son drowned in a light he was never supposed to reach. Passed over for a witless oaf of a brother whose immaturity lead to his own banishment. Promised a kingdom that was never meant to be his, either by rule or by blood.

 “Yes.” She smoothed back his hair gently as if comforting a child. “What is inside you, what defines you?”

 Jaw tight and his body tugging against his bindings. “Rage.”

 The woman recoiled slightly, judging him as he let that rage boil inside him and push away the pain. The Other and Thanos could do whatever they wanted to him, but nothing would stop Loki from putting the world back to the way it should be.

 She leaned forward and whispered into his ear, “Trust your rage. It will get you through the pain.”

 Doors opened, guards came in. The woman backed away, speaking not a word as he was rolled off, back to the torture, back to the heat, back to the pain. He whispered softly to himself. “Trust my rage.”

                                                            ----

 They took away the latest victim of her father’s machinations. It was the same each time, she’d patch them up and send them back for more. She could always tell who would make it, and who would not.

 But this man, this Jotun in Asgardian skin, he had been different. All the others, they would reach for love, family, and honor. Impossible pieces of dreams, destined to fail them when the world became its bleakest.

 Rage, he spoke of rage as if he was a man with nothing to lose, but an unwillingness to die.

 This was going to be interesting… and perhaps a solution to her problem.

 “Sister.” Nebula barged through the medical area. “I need a second hand.”

 Not knowing if she meant literally or figuratively, she waited until Nebula was standing before her. The patch-work woman had broken a piece on her bionic hand. It was a two-hand job to get it fixed. She mostly held a piece still as Nebula replaced another.

 Her mind drifted to the man who raged…

 “All done,” Nebula said, snapping her hand back into place. “Thanks for the hand, Sigyn.”

 “Always at your service.”

In some ways it felt like he was sitting in the silent for days but it had only been merely hours before the Other returned, a wicked grin on his face as he opened the barred door. Trying to make himself as small as possible but they still grabbed him, dragging him away. Too weak to even walk as they lead him to the throne, throwing him at the feet of the titan. This was how every day began.

“Who are you..” Thanos finally spoke, looking down upon the miserable creature trying to prop himself on his hands and knees. “My name is Loki, of Asgard!” His voice weak but not submitting. “To whom do you serve?” “No one! Definitely not you..” The Other came, kicking him hard in the ribs knocking him flat onto his stomach. The cuts breaking open again and beginning to bleed.

Too weak.. You’re too weak.. But he wouldn’t give in, he would take Death over doing what they were wanting to subjugate him to do. “I will wait for the freedom of Death before I ever do your bidding!” He growled, straining to pull himself back up; dirty, raven black hair covering his bruised face but his eyes were still full of fire. 

Standing the titan came to him, kneeling close and wrapping a hand around the gods neck, nearly suffocating him. “Freedom is life’s great lie.. Once you accept that you pathetic runt.. You will know peace!” With a grin he dropped him. “No food or water, not until he learns to beg for it..”

Seven more marks.. His stomach was cramping in agony. Wanting anything. Ten more marks.. His throat was so dry he could barely open his mouth in fear the last ounce of moisture he had retained would instantly dry. Twenty-four more marks... Hallucinations began.. Loki was back on Asgard, Sigyn was dying in his arms.. Her swollen pregnant belly being ripped apart by the monster he had cursed her with. Screaming though no one cared to listen to him, he curled into himself shaking.

After nearly a month, he could barely move. Muscle mass and weight had been lost, eyes sunken and hollow he truly looked like Death. But it never came for him, even still, he mustn’t have suffered enough.

Humiliating himself with his less then audible voice as he begged for food and water. The raw meat making him wanting to puke but the water was heavenly. The desert in his throat being washed away and sating him so.

But with them returning his strength that meant there was a price to be paid for it.

Once again he was dumped at the titan’s feet. “you know.. I thought you were just average.. A pitiful Asgardian and and even more pitiful Jotnar runt. But how you have resisted. The torture, the silence, the isolation..” Thanos hummed, “but you have held on, you still resist me even after I have repeatedly broken your flesh, bones and even your sanity. So what is it? What force within you keeps you going?”

Loki looked away, he couldn’t have him know. Thanos could not take HER from him! “There is nothing you can do--”

“To you..” The titan smiled, coming to Loki and gripping his head with both of his giant hands, pressing painfully into his mind. Screaming he tried scratching and clawing but he was too weak to do much of anything then be a nuisance. “Ah.. I see, I see her.. She’s beautiful Loki.. Surprised at how she fell for you. The sun to your moon.. Your soul mate.” Releasing the god he crumpled, shaking and his vision was blurred from the assault. “Here is my offer.. You do as I say. You will serve me, lead my armies and retrieve the Tesseract for me! Or I will find her.. And she will be my new pet to play with..”

Roaring, he used what strength remained to charge at the titan but he was smacked away like an insect. Hitting one of the rocks he went still, trying to catch his breath as Thanos came towards him. “I am no longer giving you a choice!” The second the titan touched his mind again he felt all emotion leaving him, a soothing wave of control tying his reason and remorse down. Everything that was good about him was Sigyn and knowing the source he was able to eliminate it and take charge.

“Give him some time to adjust.. Then ready him for war..”

Dressed in his battle armor he stood in front of Thanos, bowing before looking up; his emerald eyes now shrouded with a sickly blue. “You are ready to lead them.” Holding out a scepter for Loki to take, as he held it he felt the control strengthened within his mind and he thanked his master. 

“Never forget. Should you fail, or if the Tesseract is kept from us..  You won’t know pain till we make you kill her! Slowly, intimately, in every way you knows She fears! And then we will wake you, just long enough to see your good work, and when you scream, we’ll split your skull!”

As soon as he landed, sick from the crude portal he had just fallen through he felt for a split second to fight the hold on him. To run. Perhaps he couldn’t break the hold but he could plot against himself. Loki’s cleverness still remained and he would find a way to break free, to never allow the titan to have the cube. He would let himself be defeated. It was the only way.

“Sir, please put down the spear!” A man with an eye patch called to him, and as he looked down to it he was filled with it’s power, with it’s control. Like a crack addict getting a fix.