The Ant and the Boot

I held her in my arms, her body now clad in a soft black shirt I had found tucked away in a chest somewhere. We were both silent, she because she had fallen asleep and I because I could be nothing else. Every time I opened my mouth to speak, to scream, to do anything – no words came out, no matter how hard I tried.

I felt like a large piece of my soul had been ripped free of my body. I swallowed, leaning my head against my wooden headboard, staring out into the dark Asgardian night. I had wanted to shut out the world but Dove had asked me to leave the curtains open.

“It becomes lonely up here, and I pass the time by watching the people go by,” she had said softly, staring down at her toes. I left them open for her sake, knowing that it would be days before she would be able to leave this room.

I found her food and water, my guards no longer following at my side as I wander about the palace. They recognize a broken man when they see one. Bitter and resentful as well, yes, but broken enough that I wouldn’t rise up on my own. The other Asgardians ostracized me or ignored me as I walked, allowing me to come and go as I pleased with my head bowed as I carried a small bag of foods at my side. I didn’t meet their eyes, but I loathed them all in my silence. I wanted them to pay for what they had done to me.

Dove kept me sane, even though she wept softly and frequently as the days went by. I tried writing to her, but humans did not recognize the Asgardian language. Much of our time was spent in silence. Still she softened toward me, coming to bed with me at night though I could see the fear and confliction in her eyes. She was as alone here in Asgard as I was and depended on me as well. I do not know if she ever came to trust me - and still she has not yet loved me – but she allowed me her flesh, perhaps believing that Asgardians required the same tenderness and contact that humans did in their times of turmoil. As I grew to understand her, listening to stories of her life and her people, she grew to understand me, recognizing even in my silence my moods and deepest thoughts.

The stars shone brightly outside, mingling with the lights of the torches in windows. Dove’s chest rose and fell softly as breathed, her blonde hair tumbling across my chest in silken waves. She murmured something in her sleep, though it was too soft for me to catch it. I ran my fingers lightly over the curve of her back, watching her as she slept.

I may never take an Asgardian woman to wife. How convenient that I, after being condemned to a life of loneliness and celibacy by my own people, shall find a mortal that holds more that I desire than any Asgardian woman has before her. Would she, one day, be not a pet but a wife in the absence of a woman of my own kind? It was strange to carry such thoughts about a mortal, yet I was not disturbed by it – only intrigued.

She shifted against me, eyes blinking into wakefulness as she turned her eyes up to meet mine. I cupped her face against my palm, regarding her quietly.

“What is it, Loki?” she murmured, eyes still heavy with sleep. She had begun to look at me after the first days had passed, once her tears had subsided. I kissed her in reply, my fingers pressing against the side of her throat where I could feel her pulse quickening as she looked into my eyes.

“O-oh,” she whispered softly, her voice catching in her throat. Warmth flowed up into her face as I pulled her again to my lips. My hands wound around her willowy form as I rolled her under me, stealing her breath away as she gasped.

Little Dove, little songbird, you were now mine; locked away in this cage I live in. You shall only ever – for all of time – to sing for me, as I cannot sing at all.



The world passed by without me in it, the only mark of time the moments when the sun rose and fell. As the sunsets stretched the days into weeks I grew weary, my eyes tired of seeing only the setting sun.

But Loki was there, providing for me and dwelling beside me in loneliness. He kept me hidden for so long that I began to lose count, maybe two weeks or maybe two months dragging by in solitude. No, not solitude – isolation. Confinement. I dreamed frequently of my brother, of my mother, of Stark – and soon enough I began to long for the company of those whose voices drifted from beyond closed doors.

Loki did not crave companionship as I did, though. He hated them. I could see it in his eyes when they spoke, the rage clawing at his insides like a carnivorous parasite. He was a much angrier person then: no calmness left to his features, only rigid, icy hate. I rested my hand against him, soothing away the anger, but I could see that it only drew back rather than subsided. I feared the man that dwelt in that hatred, no matter how gentle he was with me on the surface.

“Loki, when can I come out to your world?” I asked one night, pressed into his arm. “Will I ever be allowed out of this room?”

He made no notion, though his body stiffened against me. He didn’t want me to go out there. He would rather I remained locked away in here, even on those days that he wandered into the halls. I was always kept behind lock and key when he traveled. No one knew I existed. No one knew I was alive.

Loki was an obsessive man: obsessive about hate and also obsessive about desire. In those eyes I could see that he would never let me go, no matter what I wished for. I could see fondness for me in his features but also a darker, more powerful craving that I didn’t know if I could ever satiate. He remained gentle with me for weeks, respecting what I wished and stealing few unwanted kisses from my lips, but I could see that I wore his patience thin with my games of cat and mouse. Still, even as I made love to him I couldn’t reconcile my need for his companionship with my fear for his appetites. I guess that in some ways I was as much an addict as he was, unable to sever myself from him though I had every reason to scorn his desire.

I felt pity for him, though. Pity and affection. I’ve always been too much of an optimist, and because of this I saw a small glimmer of hope for him after his voice had been stolen away. Maybe now that he had been defeated he would someday set aside his hatred, maybe even for my sake if not his own.

It was a foolish notion, I know. But how else could I live with myself knowing that my lover and only companion was murderous and filled with a vengeance I couldn’t understand? Besides, he cared for me. I didn’t have anyone else to rely on, so I would have to console myself with the fact that he actually cared.

His hands tightened in my hair and my back arched, pressing up into his naked flesh. His lips moved softly against my neck as he moved gently, rhythmically, banishing my thoughts of loneliness and escape. I ran my fingers over his back, sighing. He covered my mouth with his hand, eyes warning me to stay quiet. I did so and he continued, pressing his lips to mine. Before his face vanished into shadow I saw that hungry look in his eye, glittering green as he devoured my flesh.



I knew I couldn’t hide her forever. They would find her eventually, whether she showed her face to them or not. There was too much evidence that she was with me: the vanishing food, the discarded clothes, the fact that I hadn’t gone crazy with depression. When they opened their eyes to my strange behavior and these obvious clues they began to take notice of me and began to wonder. My brother was the first to take action upon his suspicions.

He came in late one night, just over a month after my reckoning. It had taken them longer to catch us than I had suspected. He threw open the doors, his heavy red cloak fluttering around his shoulders like a sheet of blood falling from his neck. For a moment I imagined just that, sitting silently on my bed with a bored expression. My clothes were discarded on the floor, only a bed sheet maintaining my modesty.

“Loki, I wish to speak to you,” Thor said, his voice hard. I raised an eyebrow and gestured at myself, asking permission to dress. Thor turned away from me.

“Very well. I will give you a minute to dress.”

He stepped out with the heavy slam of the door and I quickly stood, pulling on my clothes. Dove did the same, silently grabbing her discarded dress of a shirt and pulling it over her head. The sleeves hung long over her hands, giving her the appearance that she had wings.

She glanced quietly at the door, pursing her lips. I could see that she wished to expose herself. A stab of jealousy gripped my heart, my mind unwelcome to the idea of her existence being known to anyone but me. I rested a hand on her shoulder, telling her with my eyes that she must hide now, as she had been before my brother came in. Thor’s heavy footsteps had given us plenty of time to make sure she was concealed.

But it was all for naught. My brother threw the doors wide as I touched her, catching us both on our feet. I shoved her behind me before a word could escape her lips, concealing her from my brother’s view.

His eyes were wide with shock as he stepped into the room, seeming almost to stumble. Of course that was how he would be: it was as if he were seeing a ghost. How surprised must he be to find her not only alive but with me? He didn’t even seem to see me at all as he stared at her, her pale face peering out from behind my shoulder.

“Dove?” he asked, his voice filled with shock. “Dove, you are alive! This is good news. How have you come to be here? How are you alive?”

“You sent me here,” she said softly, biting her lip. “I was hiding amongst Loki’s things.”

“You have been amongst us for weeks and have not given us word?” Thor demanded, his voice suddenly growing angry. He looked at me for the first time.

“Loki, why have you hidden her from us? Have you injured her?”

I was speechless, obviously. I knew not why he bothered to ask me these things since I couldn’t give him reply. I assumed it was more an excuse to swing his hammer at my head rather than actually receive a reply. Dove stepped out from behind me, standing as a barrier between myself and my brother.

“I was simply afraid, that is all,” she said softly, facing Thor and swallowing. “I didn’t know how your people regarded humans, so I remained hidden. There had already been so much violence that I didn’t know what to do.”

I was surprised, listening to her lie through her teeth like that. I knew how much she desired to show her face, no matter how afraid she might be. It was because of me she hadn’t shown herself.

But she was saying these things to protect me. I did not think it possible.

Thor stood, puzzled, listening to her.

“So my brother has not hurt you?” Thor asked.

“No.”

He looked at her; looked at me. I could tell that he didn’t quite believe her tale. But he smiled at last, walking forward and scooping Dove up in his arms in a strong embrace, spinning her.

Green flashed over my eyes, my knuckles turning white as I balled them into fists. I hated him touching her. I hated how she smiled with relief as he spun her around, as if his touch had lifted a great weight off her shoulders that I alone could not. I hated that his eyes looked fondly into her eyes, that his hands held to him the soft flesh that belonged to me.

“We must return you to your home,” Thor insisted, still holding her hands.

I wanted to shout at him, to tell him to wait. To kill him for taking away from me the only thing I had left. But I could do none of those things, so instead I stepped forward, gripping his arm tightly. When he looked at me I nodded toward the door, indicating that I needed to speak with him. He looked at me, puzzled, then released Dove as we walked outside. She followed us with her eyes until we shut the door.

“What is it, brother?” Thor asked. I gestured broadly, indicating to the fool that I needed a parchment and quill. He grabbed a guard who quickly produced one, handing both to me.

You can’t take her away, I wrote in our native tongue, passing the letter to him. He glanced at him then back at me.

“What trick is this, brother?” Thor asked, his face growing angry. “What do you mean?”

I took the paper again and, taking a deep breath, quickly scribbled down my reply. He read it, his breath catching in his throat as he did.

“Loki, what have you done?” Thor asked, his voice cold and low.

I have made her mine, I thought in reply. I have made her mine and now she will never be taken from me.



I knew something big was up the moment Jarvis told me Point Break had broken atmo only a couple miles north of Stark Tower. I put on my suit and flew out to meet him, landing atop a building that had been crumbled in the battle the month before. He looked more tired than I remembered him being. Then again, I bet I didn’t look quite up to snuff myself.

“What brings you here, big guy?” I asked, my mask lifting off my face. The sun was hot on my skin in the summer heat, the air in the distance rippling like waves. He looked at me wearily, leaning heavily on his hammer.

“… alive,” he mumbled, taking a deep breath.

“What?”

“She’s alive. The girl, Dove.”

I couldn’t tell if I felt like I’d been hit by a train or had a huge load taken off my shoulders. I just stared at him for a moment blankly, then stupidly repeated myself.

“What?”

“She lives, Stark,” Thor said, leaning up on his hammer and looking me full in the face. “We didn’t find her because she was hiding amongst Loki’s things, therefore sent back up to Asgard before the building collapsed. She’s been in hiding for a month now.

“Then where the hell is she?” I asked, looking around him, checking to see if she was hidden under his cloak or something. “Why didn’t you bring her with you? Dammit, Point Break, she should be back on Earth. Take me to her, please. I’ve gotta make sure the girl is okay.”

Thor’s brow furrowed. The big guy closed his eyes, shaking his head as he let out a deep sigh.

“This is not customary,” Thor said softly.

“To hell with your ‘customary’, you’ve got one of our own locked up there. Has that asshole brother of yours gotten near her?” I demanded, jabbing at the sky with my fist. Thor didn’t open his eyes, just sighed again.

“I can take you to Asgard, even though you are a mortal,” Thor replied. He looked… guilty. Ashamed even. “It’s the least I can do.”

“The hell do you mean, ‘the least you could do? Dammit, man,” I snapped, “What is going on?”

He regarded me evenly, slowly opening his eyes. His fingers were tight upon the hilt of his hammer.

“It’s worse that I could have feared, Stark,” Thor whispered. And he was right: his next words scared me so much that my blood ran cold.