Can You See Me? (A Loki FanFiction)

Chapter Twenty

The tension in the air was palpable, the entire arena silent with surprise and disbelief as Loki ended the duel with the fatal stab into Fiske's chest. At first, I was too shocked to move. Loki had shown the first signs of weakness by dropping to his knees before Fiske, and I had thought for sure that that would be the end for him. But somehow, he had managed to turn his fate around in less than a second.

I was finally broken from my stupor when both Loki and Fiske feebly slumped over onto the ground. Panic tightening my throat, I instantly left  Fandral's side and bolted down the steps towards the ring, ignoring his cries of protest behind me. All I could think about was getting to Loki, to see if he was even still alive. The duel had lasted mere minutes, their movements too fast to follow, and I had no idea how badly wounded he was.

He was still and quiet when I dropped to my knees by his side, his eyes closed and dry lips parted slightly. I forced down the rapidly growing feeling of nausea in my stomach. He had to be okay. He had to be.

"Loki! Loki, are you all right?" I begged pitifully as I gently shook his shoulders in the hopes of waking him. Thankfully, it worked, and his eyelids lifted weakly, focusing on me after a few moments. When he finally recognised me, a faint smile curled the corners of his mouth.

"It's over, Alva, it's over. You're safe." He promised, his voice a hoarse whisper, laced with pure relief.

"Brother, are you hurt?" Thor asked in a rush, suddenly appearing in front of me and leaning over the other side of Loki.

Loki's features scrunched up and he waved a limp hand, "Oh this? No, it's nothing." He replied nonchalantly.

Concerned by his words, I checked his body for wounds, pulling away his bloodied hand from his side to reveal a deep gash in his skin. I felt a dull ache in my chest at the sight - his wound wasn't fatal but seeing him hurt because of me made me feel unimaginable pain. I swallowed tightly, forcing away tears.

"Loki, you fool. Why did you do it?" I croaked. He frowned up at me, his gaze becoming suddenly lucid.

"I had to." He replied, as if it were obvious.

A hand abruptly grabbed my arm from behind and I gasped in surprise as I was pulled backwards, falling onto the chest of Fiske. His face was pale, his body growing cooler every second, but he gazed up at me with frantic eyes.

"I loved you, Alva, I never wanted to hurt you." He gasped breathlessly, his grip tight on my arm.

I could do nothing but stare numbly at him, not able to find the words to say. The man who had hurt me for months, who I hated, was dying right in front of me and I could say nothing, I felt nothing. I should have been happy that he couldn't hurt me any more, but I didn't.

I frowned in confusion as I felt tears well in my eyes, but blinked them back as I took a deep breath, composing myself. I leaned closer to him, knowing that, for once, I had all the power.

"You did hurt me, Fiske. You ruined my life and I despise you. I always have and I always will and I hope you suffer in death as much as I have suffered in life at your hands." I wanted him to know how much I loathed him, but there was no anger or resentment in my frail voice, much to my dismay. I sounded weak, like a bitter child, and I hated that.

But Fiske seemed to notice my contempt anyway, and laughed, spluttering as he choked on his own blood.

"Such fire. I always loved that about you. I think I'll miss that the most." His voice was a mere whisper by the time he finished, and I watched as the life left his eyes, and his hand dropped limply from my arm.

I couldn't understand the feeling I was experiencing of watching him die, but I knew I wasn't happy. I glanced down at my hands, soaked in his blood, and forced down a wave of nausea, feeling my head spin. After a few deep breaths to compose myself, I turned back to Loki, whose eyes had drifted closed while Thor had been talking in hushed tones with Fandral.