A/N: Short, because this is mostly just feels, developing the Loki and Taylor relationship. More plot next chapter, I swear.
The sun was beginning to set, setting the Asgardian sky to fire and Loki found that it reminded him of Taylor. It was just as vastly beautiful and vibrant as she was. He stared at it from her balcony while the others fussed around her. The healers had patched her together again, sealing and removing smaller cuts and bruises, leaving her with nothing more than stitches over her side and shoulder. By morning, they'd promised, she would be healed entirely, but she needed to stay still and rest until then.
"Guys, I'm fine, really. Go get something to eat, already," he heard her trying to convince them, "I've had worse."
"Alright, but Loki is staying here with you in case you need anything," Steve said, shooting the god a meaningful look.
Normally, the Loki would argue, but he wanted a few moments with Taylor alone. After she'd told him that she was glad he'd returned safely, she'd drifted off to sleep and then the Avengers had swooped down upon them and rushed her to the infirmary. They hadn't had a moment to speak one-on-one since then. He valued his time with her, as he was very aware that it was limited. To keep appearances, he twisted his features to aggravation as he turned from the stunning view.
"Yes," Loki agreed dryly, "I'll wait on you hand and foot. You'll want for nothing."
She shot him the biggest, goofiest smile he'd possibly ever seen—Thor's included—and giggled.
"Sounds like a good deal to me," she added a shrug on the end but grimaced when it pulled at her stitches.
Almost all of the others groaned. At this rate, she'd never heal.
"Just take it easy, doll," Bucky sighed, running a hand through his long hair, "can't have you out of commission for the big show down."
Taylor smiled and patted his hand.
"Just you wait. I'll have won the whole thing before you can even blink," she assured.
"That's our girl," Clint chuckled and mussed her hair affectionately, "you get some rest, Tay. We'll bring you some dinner when we're done, okay?"
She nodded, and watched them begin filing out with a content look on her face. Tony lingered, waiting until Loki had reentered the emptying room. There was something he had to say to Loki, and he wanted to get it over with.
"Reindeer Games," he called from the doorway, and waited until Loki was narrowing his eyes at him, "I'd like word."
Taylor perked up curiously at that, and even Loki had to admit his interest was piqued. Tony barely ever said two words to him that weren't insulting. With this in mind, he cautiously approached him.
"Just one second, Tay," Tony said lightly, probably trying for reassuring, but it just freaked her out.
"Play nice you two," she called as the door closed behind them.
Loki settled his arms behind his back and looked down at the shorter man expectantly. Whatever the hero couldn't say in front of his beloved Taylor was certainly worth hearing. Amusingly enough, he crossed his arms, but his expression was uncharacteristically serious as they considered each other. Would this perhaps be a cliché warning to stay away from her?
"Look, no matter what Taylor says, she's becoming invested in you, which is problematic. I'm sure you know why."
"My freedom has a time-limit," Loki supplied calmly.
"And you're also a homicidal megalomaniac."
Loki sighed, wishing he'd get to the point quickly and without irritating him. Considering he was going to be taking care of Taylor, alone, for the next hour or more, Tony was not making a good case that Loki treat her well. He didn't plan to treat her badly of course, her friend's rudeness aside, but still. Stark couldn't know that.
"Is there a point to this?" he asked blandly.
Tony made a vague gesture with one arm.
"Thanks, I guess," he grumbled.
Pardon?
"Pardon?"
"I said 'thanks', alright? Turn your hearing aid up, old man," Tony pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing, "You didn't have to help her, but you did. I don't know why you did, and frankly, I'm suspicious of your motives, but either way, she's alive because of you."
Loki blinked at him, stunned for a moment, before smirking as convincingly as he could.
"Was that so difficult for you to say?" he mocked.
"Just...take it or leave it," Tony said, and then without another word, walked away.
Shaking his head slightly with amusement, he entered Taylor's room again, and she gasped worriedly when she saw it was only him.
"Is he still breathing?!" she questioned in horror.
"He's fine," Loki assured her with a snort, "we were just talking."
"Oh?" she looked curious, but withheld her inquiries, respecting their privacy.
Loki appreciated it. He wasn't sure how to explain the entire bizarre conversation to her, so he settled for silence and sat at the edge of her bed, by her legs. He'd think about Stark's gratitude later. For now, it would be best to devote his attention to Taylor. Gods knew he could barely keep up with her when he was actually focused on her—distraction would be even worse.
"You're too far away," she complained, gesturing him closer.
With a false sigh, more pretense than anything, Loki resituated himself next to her hip, closer, but not uncomfortably close. He was still wary of contact with other people. The corners of her lips quirked up with satisfaction before she turned pensive, readjusting her position.
"What was that thing that grabbed me today?"
"A fire demon, I would suppose. I am not as familiar with creatures of Helheim as I am with those in other realms," he explained.
She tipped her head at him in what he had realized was a sign of her curiosity.
"Why not?"
"Our realms are sworn enemies. They're meant to set Asgard to fire at the end of the world. It's no surprise that they've kept information about their realm a secret."
The alarmed expression on her face was almost comical when he mentioned the "end of the world" part. He supposed it would scare her, coming from a world where the apparent apocalypse was predicted almost regularly and always failed to come. A definite world's end, especially with everything going on, probably scared her.
"Okay, end of the world aside," she said, shaking her head slightly, "there's something that's been bothering me..."
He waited patiently, allowing her to organize her thoughts before speaking.
"It felt like they were...targeting me. I mean, Bruce, Bucky, and I were sitting together, but they seemed hell-bent on me. You don't think...you don't think that Keziah's apprentice is coming after me for some reason?"
Loki frowned, and a tight feeling settling in his stomach at the possibility. For the life of him though, he couldn't fathom why the magician would target Taylor. If anything, it was counter-intuitive, considering Keziah's apprentice seemed to be going out of their way to avoid being caught. Bringing someone like Taylor anywhere near their project was a bad idea, magic or no.
"I doubt it," he replied slowly, "perhaps it was just an attempt to get rid of a couple of you."
She huffed and touched her shoulder lightly, where she was bandaged and sown back together.
"It almost succeeded with one of us."
She frowned, and Loki noted her shoulders slump slightly. Self-conscious, he thought. She was disappointed in herself. Hesitant, he considered taking her hand, as she had done to him in the library and then on the bridge, but he withheld. Logically, he knew that if she had made instigated such an innocuous form of contact previously, it would be acceptable for him to do the same, but the voice in the back of his mind told him not to, and he listened.
"You're alive aren't you?" he said instead, considering her was better with his words, "I would say the attempt was a complete failure."
She half-smiled at him.
"That's one way of putting it," she agreed with a yawn.
He considered her for a moment, the relaxed, comfortable set of her shoulders, the lazy drawl to her words. She looked...tired, but oh so very inviting. It was far too easy to imagine settling in next to her for a few hours and sleeping beside her. The thought alone made him uncomfortable and he scrambled for something to say to distract his traitorous mind.
"That fire you manifested today, it was black. How did you do that?"
She roused from her own thoughts and tapped her cheek for a moment as she considered the question.
"Well, you know how, the dark the color of a fire, the hotter it is? That's pretty much what happened. I made the fire so hot it turned black."
Grasping on to this bit of information, his mind began calculating. Loki had been wondering since the beginning how hot she could manifest her powers. Black fire? He'd never heard of it before. What temperature would that translate to? Could she make it any hotter?
"Were you putting all your effort into it?" he wondered.
"Nah, not really," she replied so casually they could have been discussing fair weather, "Maybe, like, fifty percent effort, at most. I haven't gone all out since I was still a preteen. It's kind of dangerous, and I've only grown stronger over the years."
That was interesting information to have. Having her as an ally against Keziah's apprentice was definitely an advantage. Magic was magic, but there was only so much that could be done against someone with raw powers like Taylor's. More interestingly, she had a very clear understanding of the damage she could do. Her cautiousness towards it was something he'd noticed, although only someone like Loki would have been able to detect it.
"What happened when you were a preteen?" he asked.
For the first time since speaking to her, she shut down almost entirely, avoiding his gaze and pressing her teeth into her bottom lip. It was like Taylor disappeared altogether with a simple, harmless question. She clenched the sheets in her hands, eyes darkening in consistency to her thoughts. Whatever she was thinking of, it didn't take a genius to realize it was painful.
"A lot," she answered at last, and the words were forced, barely audible, "A lot of things happened. I don't...I don't talk about it. I don't want to."
Any time Loki kept to himself like this, she accepted it without prying. It was the least he could do to extend the same courtesy, although he was ravenously curious as to what would make her react so grimly. Taylor wasn't exactly a flowers and sunshine type of girl, but her mood rarely seemed to plummet like this. He was beginning to develop a theory about this mystery he'd set out to uncover, and he didn't like it one bit.
"What happened there?" he asked suddenly, motioning to an older looking scar on her forehead.
She touched it, fingers feather-light over the mark left by a coffee cup some four years or so ago, and she visibly swallowed before speaking.
"Fell and hit my head when I was younger," she lied, forcing out the most unconvincing laugh Loki had ever heard, "I've always been pretty clumsy."
They both knew that he knew she was lying, but he didn't call her on it as a sick feeling crawled down his throat. Perhaps...he'd made a poor decision wishing to uncover this secret of hers, but now that he'd committed himself, his mind wasn't likely to let it go, no matter how much he wanted to.