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

Chapter 18

Crooked fingers. Once that would have bothered her, now she hardly noticed, unless looking at them, like she was right now. They hadn't healed right; she'd had nothing to hold them in place correctly. And besides that, it had taken much longer than a week for them to heal. It had taken well over another month, and now four months later, they had finally healed completely. It no longer hurt or caused discomfort for her to bend the fingers, or even to use them for everyday tasks.

That first illness was the first sign, when she got that cold. It told her something was wrong, and the state she was in now, pale, thin, unhealthy. The paleness could be from her lack of seeing the sun in so long, but Althea felt it wasn't just the absence of the sun that caused her paleness. Thin, and unnaturally so. She could see her own rib cage whenever she changed her clothing or bathed, and it was not for a lack of appetite. Only, now when she did try to eat she could hardly ever keep it down.

She felt worn down, tired, slow, and she ached everywhere. She was slightly thankful there was no mirror in this place, so she couldn't see just how much of a shell of who she used to be she was. And that way she couldn't see just how awful she looked, which she knew she did if how she felt was any indication. But at the same time, she wished there was a mirror. Just so she could truly see herself, to make it more real, tell her it wasn't just an illusion of her mind. And it was all because of the spell on the house. Keeping her away from her magic, from the very thing that kept her alive.

Althea looked away from her fingers resting on her knee, and let her eyes fall on her ankle with the metal cuff. She hardly noticed that either. Underneath she could see the skin was red and chapped, but she didn't feel it anymore. She hardly felt anything now. It was her own way of coping, if she didn't feel then she couldn't hurt or be in despair of her circumstances. Yet, she felt just enough, to keep her wanting to live. Mostly she thought of Loki, and sometimes Sif. As well as Etta…both Etta's. Her friend and handmaiden, who had died protecting her, and if Althea let herself die then her sacrifice would be for nothing.

The second, was the fawn, whom she'd named after her friend. It was fitting she supposed as Etta did mean 'little one' and the fawn was very small. But it kept growing and it was walking on it's own. Eirik let it out of the cabin every few days so it could explore the world and it came back each time to lay on it's bed. She'd first had it right next to her own, but then Eirik had moved it close to the doorway, his reasoning being it got in his way everywhere else, and that way it could leave if it wanted. Althea knew better than to argue with him.

Said man walked inside, a pale of water in his hand. He looked her over as he stepped through the doorway, then set the water down by the door. "Why are you just sitting there?" He asked, gesturing to where she sat at the dining table, "You're supposed to be making me food," He told her, but Althea didn't answer him.

"Get up!" He screamed at her, but again Althea did not respond to him, she couldn't. She didn't even flinch when he yelled anymore. Eirik took angry steps towards her, grabbing her shoulders and started shaking her roughly, jostling her body and making it ache but she made no sound. "I said get up!"

"I can't," Althea finally replied, her voice hoarse and cracking from lack of use as well as just above a whisper.

Eirik scoffed. "And why not?" He asked her.

"I'm dying," Althea told him, and not for the first time either.

Eirik rolled his eyes, letting go of her. "Not this again," He sighed, looking her over. "You look perfectly healthy."

Althea realized Eirik was slightly insane, as he never seemed to notice her changing appearance. It was like in his mind she looked just as she had the day they'd first met. And no matter how many times she tried to explain, "The house is spelled against magic," Althea said, like she was speaking to a child. "Essentially, the house is spelled against me," She told him, "My life-force comes from my magic, and as it's blocked; you are starving me of my very essence!" She said, her voice rising at the end, she just wanted him to see. "Take me outside, I won't try to run, I promise," Althea said to him pleasingly.