The doors close behind me with a loud thud, and I swallow hard. The tapestries on the wall have been torn down and lay crumpled on the floor. The desk has been cleared as well, broken inkwells shattered across the rug. Really, everything here was a mess, except the book cases. I don't think he'd have the heart to harm those. The curtains are drawn closed, and the only source of light in the room is a dull blue light floating in the center of the room.
One of the Asgardian princes, Loki, is on his knees and hunched over a map, mumbling something to himself. He looks absolutely crazed, and I almost think about turning around. I can't even if I wanted to. Not only do I want to help him, Frigga has asked me to speak to him. He's apparently been refusing to speak to her since his screaming match with the Allfather earlier this evening.
I take a deep breath and call out.
"Loki?"
He mumbles something louder, as a reply. I can't understand what it is, and I tilt my head.
"Sorry, what?" My voice is a little shaky and I curse myself for it.
"I said, leave."
His voice is cold and emotionless. Instead of following his order, though, I take a few more steps in. I notice the map he's got out is tinted blue and as I read the label, I almost gasp.
"Did I not tell you to leave?" He turns to face me, and he looks like a wreck. I haven't been to see him in a few days, and now his eyes have dark circles under them, almost like bruises. He looks like he hasn't slept in days.
"Are you planning on going to Jotunheim?" I ask incredulously, looking up from the map to meet his eyes. "You can't be. That's lunacy."
"Go. Before I call the guards." His voice gains a warning tone, which isn't heartening. I notice at a glance that the side of his right hand is cut up. Probably from throwing things from his desk.
"You can't leave," I continue, ignoring his threat. "Frigga would throw a fit. The Allfather didn't say you had to leave. Why would you want to?"
"Ember, I'm giving you one more warning." He stands now, rising to tower over me. His eyes narrow.
"You haven't been banished, Loki," I try to explain. "Your parents and Thor still love you just as m-"
"Leave!" He cries angrily, stepping forward once. Startled, I almost stumble backwards, but hold my ground.
"I just want to help you," I shake my head slightly. Why doesn't he ever just get that?
"I don't need your help" He steps forward again, looming over me from only a few feet away. "Get out."
"Look, if you'd just hear me out-"
"I don't care what you have to say." He spits at me, strands of hair as dark as the void falling over his eyes as he speaks. His irises flash emerald and he turns away from me. "I don't care."
"That's just it, Loki, you never care!" I yell, fingers curling into fists as my vision flashes red. "I was by your side through everything! I can't count the number of times I've gone to Frigga I've been so worried about you. I try my hardest to get you to talk to me, to let me help you, and all you've done is push me away like some piece of rubbish!"
"Did it ever occur to you that I don't need you, Ember? That I don't want you around?" He shouts back, whipping back around to face me. In his formal garb of a golden chestplate and crocodile green cape, he looks more intimidating than normal, and I begin to feel scared again. My anger, however,overcomes this fear as he continues.
"I'm more than capable of being alone," He lowers his voice to a more controlled tone, but it still cracks with anger. "I'm fine by myself."
"Will you be fine out there in Jotunheim, then? By yourself in a nation of people who don't know who you are and hate where you come from?" I spit, almost laughing at his incredulously stupid idea of running away. "Will you be better off there than here, with your family? With your brother, your mother, your father?"
"He is not my father!" The god screams at me, stepping forward towards me. I waver but do not back away. "My father is dead!"
"Your father left you for dead!" I scream too now. Far too late, I realize this probably isn't my greatest idea.
In a matter of seconds I find myself on the floor, my chest being crushed by Loki's weight. His knees are on either side of me, and one of his hands is next to my head, holding his weight up. The other is pressing a small enchanted blade to my throat. I bring my hands up and try to pull the knife away, but his strength is far too superior to my own, and my attempts are futile. I am instead forced to meet his gaze, and I know the look in his eyes well. I've seen it countless times after he'd spoken to Odin. Rage masking pain.
"It would be wise of you to remember your place." He hisses, and the knife begins to grow hot. Seconds later, I can feel it singeing my skin and I cry out. In another moment, I can smell my own burnt flesh in the air, and I let out a scream.
This prompts him to remove the blade, unblinkingly. He glances at the blade, which I can see glowing a lively orange in his hand. He tilts his head to the side ever so slightly, and with one swift movement, stabs the knife into the wooden floorboards beside my head. I let out a scream of shock as he does so, thinking he truly was going to kill me. I've never doubted for a second his capability.
He rises back to his feet and steps back, allowing me to crawl backwards and away from him. Loki's always seemed tall to me, but now I felt like an ant compared to him. I can feel myself trembling in terror, and I know Loki can see it too. It seems to have some sort of effect on him, but I can't tell exactly what because I'm glancing at the knife, judging how long it would take me to grab it compared to how long it would take for Loki to attack me. I look back up to the god and hope my eyes beg for mercy as much as my brain does. All of the slight movements cause the wound on my neck to hurt immensely.
"I suggest you leave now." He states, voice incredibly stable compared to moments ago. "And do not return."
All I can manage to do is nod, and the sharp pain on my throat makes me immediately regret it. I back up a little further before stumbling to my feet, not looking away from the man before me. I almost trip over myself, but manage to regain my composure as my fear slowly filters into anger again. After all I've done for him, this is my reward. A cauterized gash on my neck and being banished from the palace. After the years of my life I've put into trying to be his friend, since we were children. It's all gone to waste.
"To hell with you, then, my prince." I spit at him, fully ready to be murdered on the spot. I don't think I've ever addressed him by his title, and I only do this time as an insult, which is clear to him. Instead of waiting for a reaction, I spin on heel and stomp to the door. Much to my surprise, I make it the door without being killed, and mentally breathe a sigh of relief.
I pull the door, yet find it immovable. I feel a rush of blood to my head, and try again. It doesn't budge. Fearing Loki's magic is at work, I whip around to check. He is still watching me, but his hands are still at his side and not glowing as the would be if the magic Frigga taught him was in used.
"The doors must be barred from the other side…" I whisper ever so softly to myself, sensing danger.
Danger indeed.
The balcony doors blow open with a loud bang, and four guards rush in with their arms bared, each dressed in golden armor that is worn from many years of use and glints in the filtered-in moonlight. Three of them hold longswords, while the fourth has a bow drawn to attack. They form a semicircle around Loki, and it doesn't seem like they notice me. Loki doesn't move at first, except to keep one from standing directly behind him. Instead, he brings a hand slowly to the handle of the sword on his belt and asked very calmly:
"What is the meaning of this?"
One guard speaks. I recognize him as Brynjolf, the man most children in the palace avoid because of the rumor he likes to snack on kids. The way he acts and appears only add to this idea. The man is 6'4, incredibly muscular, and a frightening sight. A particular battlescar across the entirety of his left cheek makes him look rather menacing, and demonstrated he could hold his own in combat.
"I didn't spend six years in that gods forsaken realm to have one of the monsters ruling Asgard." His voice is gruff and worn, and held a warning tone. "I heard what the Allfather told you, and for the good of these nine realms, you're going to die!"
At this, he lunged forward at Loki with his sword, which pierced right through him. Or rather, it would have had it been Loki standing there and not an illusion. Instead, he appears far to the right of the group of men, and casts a ball of ice in their direction. It hits one soldier squarely in the hip, and he struggles to remain standing, letting out a cry of pain. The one with the bow whips around to face him and lets go of the arrow, but again, he is gone.
In their search for Loki, one of the swordsmen lays eyes on me. I feel my eyes widen, and made a dash for the knife in the floor as an arrow strikes the door behind me. It sticks into the oak with a loud thud, and scares my brain into picking between two possible lines of defense: fight or flight.
I choose fight.
Loki has reappeared to the left of the men, and hurls another ball of magic at the group. Unluckily for him, it strikes the same man as before, and he freezes over completely still. As this occurs, I dash past the men to their right. Another arrow flies by and this time I can feel it part the air by my neck.
"Forget the girl, idiot, shoot for him!" Brynjolf commands, dodging a ball of frost magic. "Bjorn, you deal with her."
The other swordsman turns to me, sword at the ready. He begins to charge me, and I throw the knife in my hand at him. It just grazes the armor at his should and flies somewhere behind him. I curse under my breath and sidestep his attack, and slams into the desk. Glancing in front of me, I find the bowman and Brynjolf where Loki previously stood, but Loki is now by the doors. I thank the gods that Frigga taught him her tricks.
Back to the matter at hand, the guard who had attacked me has regained his composure and was ready to fight again. I hurry to the frozen soldier and tug at the sword he held aloft in the air. It's frozen to his hand, and I don't have the time to pull at it. Instead, I step in front of the man and await the charging bull.
Thankfully, the guard after me is dumb enough to try charging again, and when I sidestep him once more, he crashes full force into the frozen statues of his friend. Dazed on the floor, he gives me enough time to grab the sword, albeit a few frozen fingers still stick to the handle. I ignore this and glance up at Loki again, but he is nowhere to be found. His two attackers look around but after a second decide they'll fight me instead. Blood rushing, I think out a plan.
The first thing I do it sink my newly acquired blade into the small of the guard on the ground's back, between pieces of armor. He gives a sick gurgly cry for only a moment before he slumps forward onto the shattered frozen pieces of his buddy. I struggle to pull the sword back out, and when I do, Brynjolf is within a few feet of me. I brandish the sword, trying to ignore the blood running down the hilt. Despite my defense training, I've never had to kill anyone before. It isn't a pleasant feeling.
"Traitor," Brynjolf hisses as I try to square off between him and the bowman, so that Brynjolf is blocking his shot. "You'll be tried for treason if you make it out of here alive."
He begins with a power strike downwards, and I hardly have time to hold my blade horizontally in front of me before they collide. Vibrations run down my arms and I grit my teeth. This isn't at all like training.
He slides his swords down the blade of my own and it hits the floor. I take this chance to get in a swipe at his side, but he manages to block it anyway.
"Aiding the monster, you are." He hisses, striking at me again. I easily deflect the blow, and nervously glance around the room. Still, I don't see Loki. Or the bowman, for that matter. I can't exactly manage a reply to Brynjolf, so instead, I make a low swipe at his legs. He doesn't manage to fully block it, and my sword ends up slamming into the knee of his armor. A chunk falls off.
Suddenly, I find Loki. He's hidden in a rafter and aiming a shot down at Brynjolf. The marksman, however, has found him and is taking an arrow out of his quiver. It looks to me that Loki isn't going to win the race against time here. So I make a split second decision.
I drop my sword and dash a few feet over to the bowman, ducking under Brynjolf's arm as he rears back for an attack. I tackle the guard down, causing the arrow to stick into the rafter just under Loki's feet. Startled, he almost falls but I have no time to watch him anymore. I take the guard's bow and slide it over his head, pulling backwards so that the string chokes him out. I see Brynjolf has once again spotted Loki and roars in a fit of rage. Loki is back on the ground in an instant and ready to fight him. The guard under me goes limp, and I drop the bow to the ground as I stumble to my feet. Loki has the sword from his belt and is engaging in battle against Brynjolf. I bring a hand to my neck, feeling the pain that is dulled by adrenaline.
I stoop down and pick up the bow, taking an arrow from the bowman's quiver. I notch it and pull the string back, but Brynjolf and Loki are moving so quickly I can't aim very well. I spend a moment trying to set my sights on Brynjolf, and finally I think I have a shot. I'm afraid to let the arrow fly though. I don't want to shoot my friend.
Friend? A nasty voice in the back of my head asks. He just almost killed you.
But he didn't, I argue back.
But he almost did. It hisses. Just shoot. What does it matter who you hit?
I bite my lip, move the bow over a few inches, and close my eyes. I release the string and feel it slam into my wrist. I take a second before I open my eyes.
I'm beyond relieved to see Brynjolf on the ground, arrow straight through the back of his neck. He's gurgling, choking on his own blood. I can feel the bow hit the floor and I just stand there, watching him die. All I can see is the life leaving his body, and in a moment, he's slumped on the ground. Limp. Dead.
Who had I just killed? Did he have a family? A wife? Oh gods, did he have children? Who did I just orphan?
"Ember!"
Loki's shouts bring me back to reality. He stands in front of me, blood (probably Brynjolf's) spattered against his face. I look up into his eyes, dazed.
"Oh, thank gods," He sighs, stepping forwards to me. "I'm-"
"Not a scratch on me." I say quietly, incredulously, not counting the wound inflicted by Loki himself. "I killed three people, and not a scratch on m-"
I'm cut off my a sharp pain in the small of my back. I let out a small cry and turn around. The bowman is still very much alive, and his hand is poised as though he'd just thrown something.
In an instant, Loki has frozen him solid, but I hardly notice. I twist my torso to find a knife lodged into my back. The very same knife Loki had used to burn my neck. The same knife I'd thrown at the guard and lost. Well, now I found it. I close my fingers around the blade.
"Ember, whatever you do, don't-"
With a swift motion, I pull the blade from my skin. I don't feel a thing, but for some reason I can't stand any longer and drop to my knees, letting the knife clatter to the floor.
"-remove the blade." He finishes his sentence too late, catching my forearms and guiding me to the floor. "Oh, gods, Ember. Guards!"
There's a warm stream of blood beginning to flow down my back, and I give another cry as Loki touches the wound with his hands.
"It's bad," I mumble, more of a statement than a question. I can tell something's very wrong. I know the blood isn't just dripping out: it's pouring.
"No, it's not, it's fine." Loki tells me, pressing down on the wound to try to stop the bleeding. His hands are freezing, especially compared to the blood. "You're fine."
I feel myself beginning to shake, and I look up at Loki's eyes. They've softened to a lighter green, almost like the moss that grows on the trees here. Much kinder now, like it mattered.
"Don't," I try to push him away from me. "You'll get blood on your raiment."
"I don't care about that, Ember," He gives a small smile, but something's off about it. "Just don't fall asleep on me, okay?"
His face is beginning to change a little bit. It's almost like it's fading in and out. Suddenly, I can't hold my head up and it lolls back on my neck. Loki brings a hand under it and holds it up.
"Hey, hey," He drops his voice to a whisper now, still trying to keep his smile. "Don't do that now. The guards are on their way, I promise." He looks up to the doors and screams again, "Guards!" He looks back down at me. "Keep your eyes trained on mine, understand?"
"Am I going to die?" I ask bluntly, feeling Loki tense up.
"Of course not," He shakes his head. "You're going to be fine, I promise."
"Says the god of lies," I give a small smile, but now that my adrenaline has completely died down, I can feel the wound in my neck twinge at every move. Strangely enough, I can't feel the warmth of the blood on my back much past my hips. It must be dripping onto the floor.
"I'm not lying," He tries to assure me. "And I'm sorry for everything I've done to make you think I would be. More importantly, I'm sorry about what I said, a-and about your neck. I didn't mean it, Ember, I swear."
"Y-yeah, you did." I blink heavily. "You just wish you hadn't done it, because now that I'm dying, you feel badly."
"Ember-"
"Loki," I start, but then break out into a cough. It feels like my neck is on fire all over again, but I ignore it and start again. "It's okay. Really."
"It's not," He shakes his head now, smile completely vanished. "It's not okay that I've treated you so awfully. And now I might lose you and I haven't even thanked you for trying like you have."
I smile again, watching the frame of my eyesight darken. The only time I can think of that I felt like this is when I was in the river many years ago, and began to drown. So now I really do believe it. I'm dying.
"Go ahead..." I'm finding it harder to breathe anything more than quick, shallow breaths.. "...and thank me, then."
"Thank you, Ember Faendal." He smiles at my comment, and I'm confused to see his eyes are rimmed with tears. "Thank you for trying to help me even when I push you away. Thank you for putting up with my you for always being there/ And thank you," He cuts himself on to take a breath, and finally I see a tear fall. It's an awful sight to me, and I want to look away. He continues, and his voice breaks. "For being my only friend."
"I didn't think…" I breathe in sharply, feeling Loki trembling trying to press down on the knife wound. "You'd let anyone… ever see you.. cry." I cough again and groan at the pain that racks my body. "I truly am… honored."
"Oh, quiet, you." He gives a small nervous laugh, and another tear makes it way down his cheek.
"You know," I squeeze my eyes shut and open them again, in hopes my vision would clear. It remains cloudy. "There are… worse ways to die."
"You won't die, Ember." He pleades with me. "You can't, and I won't let you."
I ignore him.
"I'm scared, Loki." I can't make out anything but his face at this point. Everything else is dark. "I don't… want to die."
"You're not going to," He whispers, tears streaming steadily. "I'll never let you."
"I do love you…" I admit, feeling my eyelids get heavier and heavier. "Not in a… romantic way but… like a friend.." I cough. "A brother."
He smiles again, the saddest smile I could possibly imagine. Then he leans down and kisses me softly. I can taste the salt of his tears on my lips, but I don't mind. I take comfort in his gesture, and in my last moments it's probably the kindest thing he could do. I close my eyes, unable to hold them open anymore.
And then I hear something behind me that I can no longer make out, and his lips leave mine. I try to speak, to say what I don't know, but I can't get my lips to move. I can't even open my eyes anymore, and I take one final breath.
And then there's darkness.