"is that what you see when
you look at me? a threat?"
"do you think i'd be here
trying to save you if i did?"
always the risk taker, willow rogers finds herself juggling the consequences of taking it too far when she realizes the god of mischief is...
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As the Queen led Willow through the palace, they talked—it wasn't an unusual conversation though she was fairly curious about the super soldier's life, listening intently to whatever Willow could tell her in the time it took them to reach the dungeons.
"I can get you in there, but you'll need this to get back out," she held out a small silver dagger inscribed with blood red runes, "and once you do...once you've obtained what you came for, head straight for the Observatory. Don't look back. Don't come back. Do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Willow slipped the dagger into her belt as she watched with a sad smile.
"Will you tell him I love him?" She said softly.
The young woman looked up, startled.
"I—well, couldn't you—"
"I have a feeling I won't be seeing him for a long time. I may have spent more time with him than anyone else, but I still know so little about my son and if he trusts you," she reached out to place a hand on her shoulder, "then so do I. Now go."
She pointed the way and Willow hesitated before nodding and running off.
The hall led to a larger area lit by the jumping flames of torches that lined the dungeons and what Willow had imagined in her head was nothing compared to what she saw. Cells containing strange creatures and otherworldly beings lined the path as bright white blocks, cut off by some sort of transparent yellow shield buzzing low in her ears.
She didn't have to go very far before finding Loki's cell, the god of mischief facing the wall opposite her with his head bowed and his hands crossed behind his back.
Just as she was trying to figure out exactly how the Queen would get her in without being present, the divider disappeared with a hiss, causing Loki to turn around in surprise at the sight of Willow cautiously stepping into his cell. The wall quickly surged back into place and they faced off with each other, testing the waters between them in strained silence.
"How did you get here?"
"What?" Willow raised a brow. "You didn't miss me?"
Loki let out a heavy sigh—whether it was because of the young woman he'd gotten trapped with for three days and bore most of his soul to while under threat of high-pitched noise and a blade or because he was simply exhausted, he couldn't say.
Perhaps it was a mixture of both.
What he did know was that Willow was here now by some stroke of personal luck, still bothering him like the pest he had branded her as and even though she was fairly stubborn, following him to Asgard was much more dedication than he thought she had.
"I don't know what you want from me," he grumbled, "I've given you as much as you asked for."
"I don't think you should be in here, to be honest," she said absently, walking around the prison cell as though she were observing its conditions.
