Can You See Me? (A Loki FanFiction)

Chapter Thirteen

Over the course of the next few days, my anger and determination began to wear off and was quickly replaced by the return of my fear.

Fiske still hadn't made his move yet.

Of course, I should have been relieved - maybe he had lost interest and moved on to torment someone else. But the anticipation was worse. Never knowing when I was safe, constantly on guard whenever I was alone. Perhaps this was a new torture technique; drawing out the hunt to watch me squirm, in an attempt to make it more entertaining for him. He really was a sadistic bastard.

As I walked alone down an empty corridor one morning, my paranoia was taking on drastic levels. I had purposefully gotten up exceedingly early, knowing that Fiske had figured out where and when I would be during the day. I kept my footsteps as soundless as possible, yet walked at an almost jogging pace, trying to reach my destination without any interruptions. Every sound made me flinch, my heart stopping dead in my chest momentarily, before skipping back into a frantic rhythm. I was barely halfway through my long journey when I heard them. Footsteps. They were light and far too quiet for the normal ear to pick up, but as well as having elvish hearing, I had learned to listen for every movement these past few months. Fiske had sneaked up on me far too many times.

I had not anticipated meeting anyone on my route this morning. Upon exploring the palace further, I had found plenty of safe pathways and corridors that were usually virtually empty, which made them perfect for me when I needed to get somewhere unnoticed. This was an alternative route to Thor's chambers, in a quiet part of the palace, away from the bustle of the kitchens and serving quarters and even from the private chambers of the residents. I had never met anyone else along this corridor before, except for now. And it was obvious who it could be.

The footsteps began to get closer and closer and I froze in terror, frantically looking for an escape route but I knew there was none. Panic stricken and as yet unaware as to where the footsteps were coming from, I finally spotted a door to a small closet in the corner of the corridor, not far from where I was standing. I couldn't believe my fortune, but I didn't dare to be relieved yet and instead ran to it immediately, sprinting on my toes to keep silent. The footsteps were getting closer and more urgent, as if he had heard me, and I could barely breathe from the crushing panic in my chest as I pulled the closet door behind me and plunged myself into darkness. My fast, sharp breaths were the only sounds in the stifling silence of the minuscule alcove.

The heavy oak door blocked out the sound of his approaching footsteps but I could sense his presence getting closer and closer to my hiding place. I prayed to every deity I knew that he would simply walk past, oblivious to the fact that his most prized play-thing was barely a few feet away from him. But as the footsteps became more audible with their close distance, my hiding place seemed far less safe than I had originally thought. The footsteps slowed as they approached, deliberate and suspicious, until they suddenly halted, and I knew that he was standing a mere few feet away from me, held back only by the door. I clamped a hand over my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut and sinking silently to the floor in an attempt to make myself as small and obsolete as I could, hoping with everything I had that he would simply walk on without opening the door. But I should have known by now that the gods had given up on me a long time ago.

Light flooded back into the closet as my only shield was wrenched open, but I didn't dare look up yet. Still hunched on the floor and keeping my eyes tightly shut, I felt my submissive side automatically take over, as it always did when he found me.

"Alva?"

My eyes snapped open. That wasn't Fiske's voice. It was far too soft, not taunting or grating in the slightest. Gently lifting my head, I squinted up at the looming figure before me, still blinded by the sudden brightness of the corridor. Finally, my eyes adjusted, and I physically jolted when I realised that it was none other than the young prince himself, Loki, that stared down at me with a bemused expression.

"My lord!" I squeaked in surprise.

"Why are you in a closet?" He asked quietly, yet entirely deadpan, as if he were asking my opinion on the weather.

My mouth popped open as if to give an explanation, but then I realised that I had none. Wordlessly, he held his hand out to me, and after a small moment of hesitation, I placed my still trembling hand in his as he helped me to my feet and stepped backwards to allow me to exit the closet. His touch was surprisingly cool, but against my flushed skin it was the most refreshing feeling I had ever experienced. When I was steady on my feet, I quickly pulled my hand from his gentle touch and stepped back, trying to keep at least a small amount of distance between us.

"Me? Oh, no reason, I was...I was, uh, just looking for something actually," I stuttered out, gesturing vaguely at the closet behind me.

Peering at me with suspicion, he tilted his head to the side in confusion, "Are you hiding?"

My head snapped back to him and I struggled to speak the words lodged in my throat. Unfortunately, when I did manage to force them out, they came out all at once and hardly recognisable as words in the slightest.

"What? No, of course not that's ridiculous, who would I be hiding from?"

"Now, there's a question."

At the sound of those four, unsuspecting words - not spoken from Loki's lips - my body instantly reacted. Freezing involuntarily and all of the blood draining from my face, I watched with wide eyes as Loki turned his head in the direction of the cheerful greeting. I didn't need to look to know who had said them, his voice had taunted my dreams for months.

"Fiske," Loki greeted while turning to meet our new guest, bowing his head slightly in respect.

I shifted a step closer to Loki, so that I was partially hidden behind his lean frame. It wouldn't have done any good, it was obvious that Fiske had already seen me, but I still kept my head down and stared at the ground, already beginning to sweat in fear. Loki gave me a side-long glance when he saw my movement, his brows creasing together slightly in confusion, but made no mention of it. Instead, he changed his position imperceptibly so that I was even more hidden behind him, obviously realising the cause of my fear.

"My lord, how are you faring this morning?" Fiske asked cheerfully, the sound making me flinch.

"I am well, I was just about to escort Alva to Thor's chambers," he replied coolly, tilting his body to reveal me. I finally lifted my head from the ground and met eyes with Fiske, "If you'll excuse us."

Loki was preparing to take a step forward to lead me away, but Fiske held up a hand and smiled in my direction.

"Oh, there's no need, I'm sure you're much too busy. Let me, and I shall see that she get there in one piece." Although he was addressing Loki, his eyes never left mine, and in one look, I knew that he was in the mood to play. If Loki left me now, I would be utterly at Fiske's mercy, and the closet that had once been my saviour would turn out to be my torture chamber.

"I can assure you that's not necessary, thank you. Alva?" Loki turned to look down at me, his eye-brow rising questioningly. I simply nodded, not daring to be relieved just yet.

Fiske bowed his head in acquiescence, side-stepping to let us pass, "Certainly. Good day, my Lord."

As I walked past him, I chanced a look up to his face. He was staring down at me in a mixture of anger and what can only be described as a threat of what was to come later. I shuddered beneath his glare, and simply sped up my pace to walk beside Loki, only glancing over my shoulder again just as we were about to turn the corner. He was still standing in the same spot, watching as his prize walked away. I knew then that if he found me again today, the bruises would be worse than they ever had been before.