One and the Same (Loki Fanfic)

Chapter 13: Concern

Taylor leaned against the table and crossed her arms, as Loki closed the book, conspicuously silent after Thor's departing words.

"So why aren't there any magicians other than you that could do a spell?" she inquired after a moment.

"I had not understood why until now, but I suppose the disaster with Keziah caused the discouragement of it. It is only because I am—was—a prince that I was allowed to study it. My mothe—Queen Frigga taught me everything I know."

Feeling an unusual wave of bravery from the note of sadness in his voice at the end of his explanation, she reached out and placed her hand in his. Taylor was prepared for him to pull away. Instead, his hand closed briefly around her fingers, a gentle squeeze, before relaxing again. He glanced at her, eyes flicking from the new wounds to the old.

"You should take care of those," he observed.

Having him look at her like that, her head went blank for a solid moment before she realized what he'd said.

"Oh, it's nothing," she assured him as he stood and bent towards her, turning her face this way and that.

He was leaning over her, and Taylor found herself not altogether unwelcomely trapped between Loki and the table while he examined her wounds. Her breath hitched, and suddenly her rapid heartbeat was twice as loud. They were standing much closer than they normally allowed themselves to be. Actually, she noticed they'd been coming into physical contact with each other often as of late, when they were usually so careful about maintaining space between themselves.

"Loki."

Thor's voice broke the trance and Loki stepped away from her, blinking rapidly. Taylor too, had to shake her head slightly to clear it. Whatever was going on was freaking her out. She didn't act like that with anyone—least of all Loki. What was wrong with her?

"I want you to come with me to speak to father about Keziah," the prince explained, apparently oblivious to the two.

"Very well," Loki agreed, straightening his clothes and letting out a breath.

He glanced at Taylor once last time before leaving the library with his adopted brother. The female, left to her own devices for a moment, ran a hand through her hair and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Things were getting difficult, and things were getting difficult quickly.

"Food," she muttered to herself as her heartbeat faded from her ears, "I need to eat before I pass out."

Right, low blood sugar was why she felt lightheaded, not of a certain sullen prince in need of a serious attitude adjustment. She practically ran to the banquet hall, and almost screeched to a halt when she saw everyone was already there, speaking amongst themselves. As soon as they saw her, the conspicuously got quiet, and Bucky's eyebrows quirked in way that she knew meant the others were aggravating him.

"Wow, that's not suspicious at all," Taylor remarked flatly, placing her hands on her hips.

"We want to talk to you..." Steve started.

"But first, what happened to your face?" Natasha interrupted, frowning.

"Lady Sif and I got into a small altercation. No worries. Why are you all standing around looking like a bunch of gossiping teenagers?"

"Don't get upset with us..." Bruce began with hesitation.

She raised an eyebrow. Taylor couldn't remember the last time she was really upset with any of them. Sure, they could get on her nerves just like any family. Hell that was practically an expectation of living in the tower with all those different personality types. Getting upset? They must have done something extra special stupid.