Hardest of Hearts (Thor/Avengers: Loki/OC )

Chapter 17

She had to escape, even if she brought the house down on her, it would be worth it. Another tug, and still nothing. Althea tightened her grip on the chain about two feet from where it connected to her ankle. She pulled again, this time using all the strength she had in her and the beam the other end of the chain was attached to groaned, but did not budge. Her hands were starting to burn, and if she looked down she'd see there was blood on her palms.

Althea ignored the pain though; it would be nothing compared to what she knew was to come, if the previous day was anything to go by, and it was. She very much doubted Eirik would not try to violate her again, and when he did, he would not stop.

She let go of the chain, holding her hands palm up, seeing the blood that coated them, she groaned in frustration. Looking around the room, she pulled a blanket from the bed and wiped her hands on it, before getting an idea. So instead of discarding of it, she wrapped her hands in it and used it as a barrier between her skin and the chain, starting to pull once again.

And it wasn't just Eirik motivating her to want to escape, not that he wasn't an enormous part of it. But last night, she swore she'd connected to Loki. And that gave her the courage to keep trying, and not to give up. She knew that he had looked for her, but she was smart enough to guess Heimdall could not see her, or she would have been rescued by now.

Thinking of Loki, her heart felt like it was burning inside her chest in an extremely painful way. Like a hand was in her chest, squeezing it tighter and tighter. So she had to stop thinking of Loki, though she loathed doing so. But she knew it would be for the best in the end. Why cause herself more pain and torment than she needed?

Why couldn't she just use her magic!? But of course, Eirik had thought of that, Althea hated to admit it but he was not an idiot. He'd probably gotten that woman to do it for him. And she now knew after breaking through it last night, even for a moment, that it was not her who was spelled, it was the house itself. So once she left the house, then she could use her magic to get out of this place, and to protect herself if the need arose.

She started pulling again, this time standing a little closer, putting all her weight into the tug, when she heard a whistle, startling her so much that she let go and fell backwards on to her back. She quickly scrambled up, grabbed the blanket and stuffed it underneath the bed, before climbing on to it herself putting her back to the wall, the farthest she could get from Eirik.

Not even a minute after she had calmed her nerves some, Eirik came storming in, still whistling a tune she recognized as a drinking ballad; highly inappropriate for a time such as this. He walked over to the dining table, slamming down a dead female deer with an arrow sticking out of it, which he promptly pulled out roughly, then tossed it on the floor.

She almost, almost began to think he had forgotten her, but then he looked up, smiled in a way that only made her want to run and be sick, then sauntered over to her. Althea started backing away as best she could, though there wasn't much else she could go, so instead she just turned her head so it was against the wall. She was just about to bring her arms to cover her ears when she heard the bed squeak, telling her that Eirik had joined her. By this point she was trembling in fear no matter how much she wished she wasn't.

"Oh, don't be so afraid, I did apologize," Eirik said, grabbing her arm gently, then pulling her so she sat on his lap. A liar. He never apologized, he hadn't spoken a word to her since he'd left her lying on the bed with a tattered dress and her own tears for company. Even when he'd returned and she'd pretended to be asleep he hadn't said a word, and neither when he left earlier that morning to go hunt for food.

"While hunting, I did some thinking, and I asked myself, "How can I make sure Althea doesn't try and escape again?" and then I came up with not one, but two ideas," Eirik said, taking her hand in his, then separating her fingers, which were limp in his hold, like the rest of her.