Kidnapped|Book 4|A novel in the Blue Moon series| An Avengers fan fiction series|

11- The Phoenix's Sacrifice

Here is a chapter! Do enjoy :) 

~Music~

More Celtic music! There are some great ones online.

Note on the picture: Ignore it. I can't change it at school, but I took a different route on the chapter than I had planned, so it's unrelatable. 

Thanks!

(and remember the petition!)

Chapter Eleven

 

~Nobody's POV~

 

Thea sleeps restlessly that night. The chains are hurting her, so that she can hardly get in a comfortable position. The cot is surprisingly soft, but she has been throwing herself around so much, it generally feels like lying on a rock. She tosses and turns as she tries to fall asleep, and is eventually lulled into a disruptive sleep by the continuous sounds of the nocturnal palace. She lies on the cot skewed, with one of her legs hanging off the side and her arms jerked up so that she looks like a tangled voodoo doll. Her hair, still black, lies in a mass around her pained face. Her pale face is lit up by the presence of the bruises on her cheekbones, ugly and yellow. Blood still is scattered about her lip, her hands and wrists, her ankle, and her temple. On the floor, a ways from her, a pool of crimson lies, the only reminder of the fallen servant, lit up by the eerie orb at the top of the room, casting everything into a pale blue glow.

Hours past midnight, the iron bolt clanks as the door is opened. A shadow walks through and makes its way towards the sleeping, still-whimpering girl. She is still dressed in jeans and an old t-shirt of Kyle's, one depicting the band 'Styx', which look almost as out-of-place in this situation as does the blood splattered on the girl.

Loki looks down at his daughter, and as he sees her pale face, even miserable in sleep, his features contort into pain, internal pain that looks as though he has put a hook through his chest and dragged it back out. His eyes dart immediately to her bruises, and the blood. The bruises that he put on her skin, and the innocent blood that was spilled because of him.

His expression turns darker, his breathing comes quicker, and he stalks from the room. Crossing to the room on the other side of the hall, he slams his fist into the wall and lets out a frustrated scream.

Loki closes his tired eyes briefly and exhales deeply, his breath blowing strands of his shaggy black hair. Then, he walks back into Thea's room and shuts the door quietly behind him, making sure to lock it.

He is reaching under the washstand when he hears a frightened gasp. Looking up, he sees Thea staring back at him with her terrified green eyes. When she tries to sit up, and then wails from the attempt at yanking the manacles, he says hurriedly, quietly, "No, no, no. Stay still."

As Loki takes out a soft white cloth from the shelf underneath the washstand, Thea's eyes track his every move. He dips the cloth inside the bowl of water and then squeezes the excess out. The dripping water is almost a soothing sound.

When Loki turns around, Thea braces herself against the wall and watches him warily. Not taking his eyes off of her, Loki opens the iron cuffs with a touch of his hand. They clank to Thea's sides.

He reaches out to her face, and Thea makes a whimpering sound in her throat and turns away, shielding herself with her arm.

"Let me see, Thea," he says firmly, but with none of the harshness from earlier that day.

"No."

He pulls back, surprised, "What did you say?"

"I said no. Get away from me." She holds her face determinedly, hidden fire in those green eyes.