And here we are. This is, for all intents and purposes, the second to last AU that follows the main timeline as we know it, and the last one that will have Nightingale as we know her and have known her for the series up until now (40 fics, I think is the final count by this point, ten in the main series and the rest AUs).
This AU has been in my mind almost from the moment I first began writing AUs (well, more like since i decided on the whole past-life, which was about halfway or so through my first set of AUs) but I had trouble making up my mind on a lot of things. Beginning with who exactly was going to be the Keeper. Options were: Erynion, Ylva, and there was someone else though for the life of me I cannot remember who. People will remember I wasn't very kind to Sif for quite a while. I didn't much like her, saw her attitude towards Loki as hypocrisy for reasons that have been explored in the fics already. But I slowly warmed up to her, by the time I wrote Necklace of Songs she's become Loki's best friend, and that was when I decided on her (it still took quite a long while to get from that to the whole fic, hence why I'm only posting now).
This fic will explore a lot of things, and while it's technically an AU, it will also allow you to get a better idea of what happened exactly in between the events of Necklace of Songs and the rest of the Nightingale series itself.
Dreamcast: Katie McGrath as Helena, Cate Blanchett as Thenidiel, Russell Crowe as King Thorne, Amanda Seyfried as Ylva, Shiloh Fernandez as Fenrir, Emily Browning as Nightingale.
Keeper of Memories
(Alternative Universe to Nightingale)
By: Lalaith Quetzalli
There was Death, and Grief and then everyone forgot, everyone but her. She chose to keep her memories, the good and the bad; she chose to keep her friend, to be by his side even when he no longer remembered their friendship; chose to stand by him, guide him, lead him, protect him… until the day She returned.
For War and Lies
Sometimes the hardest thing isn't to tell the truth, but to not reveal the lie.
xXx 3rd Person POV xXx
"You need to let him go..." Erynion said, for the umpteenth time since everything had started.
They were gathered together in that moment, the royal family of Asgard, Lady Sif, as well as the Lord Protector Erynion and Lady Thenidiel, second in command of the spellweavers, both of them of Alfheim.
"What?!" Thor was livid at the mere idea.
"I know you don't like it." Erynion went on. "And I don't enjoy the idea either, but don't you see? Loki is practically begging you to let him go."
"I'm not killing my brother!" The blonde prince almost roared. "Or letting anyone else do it. I... we already lost Tinúviel and her baby, we're not losing him too!"
"But don't you see?" Erynion insisted. "He's not really living anymore!"
"It's what happens in a match." Thenidiel said quietly. "One cannot live without the other, in an instinctive level, they do not want to. It's like... their souls were connected, always touching each other, and now the princess is gone. Prince Loki's soul keeps reaching for hers, wanting it and her back, but she's not there anymore. The void is slowly taking over... What's he's doing right now... Erynion is right, it's a plea, in many ways, for you to let him go, to let him follow her. And until you do so, it will keep getting worse. Until the day you will have no other option."
"He's going insane." Sif added, in a low, hard voice that showed how much it cost her to even admit that much.
The Queen didn't say anything, she just cried; then again, she knew about matches, probably better than anyone else in the room, she knew the elves, and Sif were right. Loki could not exist without his beloved, it simply wasn't possible; and the longer they took to accept it, the more her son would hurt. And yet, even as she admitted that to herself, Frigg just couldn't bring herself to let him go. He was her son, how could she ever say goodbye to him?
Helena did not say a word. She knew her parents well. They'd both told her everything about matches, its risks and wonders. It had been in preparation, as they'd been close to reaching the century mark in their union, and once they had their bond would have finished settling, making it so they were forever one soul in two bodies; where one went the other would be able to do nothing but follow. In life and death... If she was honest with herself, the princess had just been waiting for that moment. She knew how much her father hurt, it was there in his eyes, whenever he looked at the stars, at the remains of his garden (no one had dared do anything to help restore it just yet), and, most hurtful of all, whenever he looked at her.
"So, are we doing this now then?" A low voice with an edge on it suddenly spoke.
Everyone turned abruptly to find none other than Loki himself standing in a corner of the room. They hadn't been expecting that.
"Should I offer you one of my own blades or would you rather use your own?" The raven-haired prince drawled, voice filled with sarcasm, yet his eyes completely devoid of anything.
"We're not killing you!" Thor practically roared his denial. "You're not dying brother!"
"Don't you get it?!" Loki fixed his dead-looking eyes on the blonde. "It's what I want! I want you to kill me! Release me from this life, from the torment that is living without my Tinúviel, without my match!"
"No, my son..."
No one was expecting those words to come from the mouth of Odin Allfather himself, or the moment when Loki dropped to the marble floor like a puppet with its strings cut.
"What did you do, father?!" Thor cried out even as he rushed to his brother's side.
"I'm going to save my son." Odin stated even as he rose from his throne.
"How?" Erynion had a feeling he really wasn't going to like the answer.
"By making him forget what's hurting him." Odin answered simply.
"What?!" The answer was the same from almost everyone.
"You cannot do that!" Erynion's enraged voice rose above everyone else's. "You cannot make him forget his match! Doing that... it would be like killing her all over again!"
Several people in the room grimaced at that, and even Odin seemed taken aback for a moment, though it was not enough to make him change his mind.
"Him not remembering won't stop others from saying things..." Sif began, trying to make her King see reason.
"Then I shall make everyone forget!" Odin announced authoritatively.
The Ljósálfar were left speechless at that declaration.
More things were probably said, arguments made, but they were all irrelevant in the end. Odin Allfather had made up his mind, and nothing would make him change it. In his mind, he'd already lost nearly half of his family, and he wasn't losing anyone else, especially not his son...
xXx Sif's POV xXx
I made it through the Pathway and into the other side. It was still dark, even the light of the stars couldn't quite get through the canopy above my head. It was probably a good thing I'd been there before. Turning around I found the crevices in the surface of the cliff-side easily enough, climbing beside the opening I'd just exited from, a few feet before reaching the very top of the cliff, and the half-wild garden that could be found there.
It was still dark, but dawn wasn't far off. I had no idea how much time I might have lost in the trip between realms and even being away from Asgard, I just didn't want to risk it. So I ignored the beautiful flowers all around me and jumped onto the huge roots of the white-ash tree towering above me. I half-ran, half-scaled the roots, until I managed to reach something that looked half like a branch, half like rock, and just past it, an opening in the curtain of leaves that kept the beautiful garden concealed from the rest of the world.
Someone was waiting for me on the other side. A lady with eyes of the palest blue, silver-blonde hair cascading down her back, wearing a floor-length white dress and an even longer hooded cloak, the hood was down in that moment.
"Lady Thenidiel..." I greeted her with a respectful bow of my head. "You knew I was coming."
"I knew the moment your decision was made, Lady Sif." She agreed. "Aware, you are, of the difficulties that come with choosing this path."
"I am." I nodded.
"And still you choose it."
"I do. I… Loki is my friend, my best friend. He's… he's my brother in every way but blood, he's what I wish my actual brothers had been." Rather than the self-serving bastards who pushed me around when I kept expressing a desire to be a warrior, who humiliated me, who did everything short of murdering me when I managed what they never will: a place in the Royal Guard. "I know what it is the Allfather is planning…"
The way Thenidiel's eyes darkened told me that was a touchy topic with her (probably with everyone in Alfheim), it didn't surprise me. What the King was planning… it wasn't right. He was pretty much erasing Tinúviel from existence. And while I understood why he was doing it, what he hoped to achieve by it… it still wasn't right. Tinúviel hadn't been dead for even three months yet, and with his actions… it almost felt like she was being murdered all over again. Also, however high the King and Queen's hopes might be that their plan might work, I wasn't so sure. Love wasn't a matter of the mind, it couldn't just be erased. Even if Loki did forget his wife, his match, that did not mean he'd stop loving her, not really. It just meant he'd no longer know who it was he loved. Then again, their Majesties hadn't seen Loki and Tinúviel at first, when they'd tried to fight their bond, the fact that it couldn't be denied, they were meant to be together all along. It had never really been a choice. Odin Allfather was trying to take control over something that was so far beyond his ability to do so… I could only hope things wouldn't go terribly wrong. But just in case, just in case, I had to be there, I had to be ready.
"I know why he's doing it." I went on out-loud. "Even though I don't think it'll work."
"Great as your King's love might be for his Queen, he does not understand the intricacies of a match. The depth of feelings. He thinks that taking away the memories, will take away the love, like the will of the stars will be canceled just because he wishes it so!"
"It won't be enough." I couldn't help but say out-loud. "Loki and Tinúviel… they were a match even before they met, weren't they? That's what an involuntary match means."
"Essentially, yes. It also means this isn't the first life they've loved each other, nor will it be the last. Matches can never be apart for long."
"So… the Allfather's plan will be for naught? Loki's going to die anyway?!"
"I never said that."
I waited for clarification, but there was none forthcoming. Instead, the elven lady pulled a phial from inside one of her sleeves, offering it to me.
"Drink this before returning to the Realm Eternal." She instructed. "It will protect your mind from whatever magic Odin Allfather and the Lady Frigg might be working. Just be aware, this enchantment they're doing, it'll have far reaching consequences. It's not a matter of one single person forgetting another, because they know that would never be enough. The first time one mentioned Princess Tinúviel, it'd all begin to unravel in the Prince's mind."
"They're erasing her from everyone." I'd known, or at least heavily suspected, that much.
"Indeed." Thenidiel nodded. "But it won't stop there, it cannot."
"What then?"
"Tell me something, Lady Sif, your hair is black, despite the fact that that is not a common color among Aesir ladies, correct?"
"Correct. Loki did it with a spell. He knew I could no longer stand looking at my golden tresses after Amora almost killed me, after I had to look at my hair stained red with my own blood…"
"And why did Amora try to kill you?"
"She was after Tinúviel, because she kept her from using Amortentia on Thor. I had to protect Tinúviel, I…"
I got it then, the kind of 'far reaching consequences' she spoke of: Even with something as simple as the color of my hair; Loki did it to help me, after something very traumatic happened to me, something connected to Tinúviel. But if she was forgotten, if memories were changed so she no longer existed… then that attack never happened, Amora never tried to kill me (well, she did, but no one would remember that anymore), and then why would my hair be black at all?
"The mind is a wondrous thing." Thenidiel stated. "It will adapt. It will create excuses, following what is known for a fact. Tell me, if Amora's attack had never happened, what reason might Loki have had to turn your hair black."
"A prank, maybe." I suggested with a shrug.
If I'd managed to infuriate him… and yet it wouldn't have been permanent, not for a mere prank. And it didn't stop there? What about all the other things Loki had done for Tinúviel over the years? They'd been married for ninety five years! And what about all the things he'd done in his grief since losing her?
"It'll be a disaster, won't it?" I asked grimly. "All the things he's done. The good, and especially the bad. He will still have done it, but no one will know why."
"No." Thenidiel agreed.
"They will not understand."
"No, they won't. Loki will need you Sif. But you must also understand, it won't be easy. Because even if you know you'll be there for him, if you have confidence in yourself, he won't."
"We were friends before he met Tinúviel."
"It will still be hard on him. Erasing so much from almost a century, that's almost as long as he's been alive. There's no way of knowing what his mind might do to cope, how it might twist itself to adapt…"
The mere thought… it almost made me sick.
"This is something you need to know now, Sif. Once the enchantment is done… he won't be the Loki you know. There's no way of knowing how much he might change. If you don't think you'll be able to deal with that…"
"He'll still be Loki." I would not allow for any doubt, not on her part, or mine. "He'll still be my friend. And he'll still need me."
"He will." The she-elf agreed.
"Besides, I promised Tinúviel, the day of the funeral, that I'd look after her match. I'll not make myself forsworn."
"You are truly an honorable lady."
"I can only hope I'll be of some help. I'm not sure how much difference one person can make."
"More than you can imagine."
I smiled, uncorking the phial and swallowing it in one go. It smelled a lot like flowers, and I was sure I got an aftertaste similar to that of rosemary tea.
"You have my eternal gratitude, my lady." I bowed deeply at her.
I turned around, knowing I should return to Asgard before I was missed. I wasn't expecting it when she spoke again:
"Your time will come." She said quietly but strongly. "He is strong, stronger than even he knows. A loyal brother, a strong soldier, a courageous warrior. He will be tested, and it will be in no small part his bond to you, that will allow him to pull through. The time hasn't come yet, the world, the worlds, aren't ready for him yet, or for what the two of you together will be. You are the Goddess of War, Lady Sif, and when the time comes, your Soldier will find you."
I knew not what to say to her. So in the end I just bowed my head (even though my back was still to her), not bothering to hold back the single tear that fell from my eye as I whispered one of the few phrases I knew in elvish:
"Hannon le (Thank you)…"
I'd never shared with anyone my thoughts on the matter. How I'd look at Loki and Tinúviel and wish I could find that kind of love for myself. That I could find someone that would look at me the way Loki looked at his match, someone I could love without hesitation or doubt, without having to wonder if they loved me for me or for what I represented, or the contacts I had. That they saw me as I was and accepted me whole, without wishing that I were different in any way. That was true love, that was the love I knew Loki and Tinúviel had shared, the kind of love I wished for myself. And to learn I'd find it one day (or it would find me…). It didn't matter how long it might take (and from the way she spoke, something told me it'd be a long time indeed). I knew it'd happen, sooner or later, and the wait would be worth it.
And until that day came, I'd my work cut for me: Loki. I'd be there for him, as his friend. I'd do everything I could to make sure he'd endure, at least until Tinúviel found her way back to him (and in that moment I knew without a doubt, that someday she would).
xXx
The sun was just rising when I emerged from the half-hidden cave in between some shrubbery and was on my way to the palace. The need to find Loki, to make sure he was alright, driving me. I found him standing just outside his garden, it looked so bare still, the flowers just beginning to bloom again after the destruction he'd caused in his grief, the day of Tinúviel's funeral. A part of me wondered what kind of story his own mind might be spinning to justify what had happened.
In any case, that was clearly a very personal moment and I didn't want to interrupt him, not when I still wasn't sure what my reception might be. Had he forgotten our friendship? Like I'd told the Lady Thenidiel, we had been friends before Tinúviel had come into the picture, even if Thor had been the one to bring me to the palace, to insist that I be trained as a warrior, as a Valkyrie, I knew it was all because of Loki. He was the one who saw me and did not see a woman trying to be a man, but a woman trying to be more than what society believed she ought to be… like him, perhaps, in a way.
I'd managed to make it a couple of hallways and several yards away, back to the more transited part of the palace, when Thor came upon me.
"Lady Sif!" He exclaimed in a very, loud, very boisterous tone.
I half-cringed, I thought we had gotten Thor to stop doing that… or perhaps it was Tinúviel who did it. She was the one with the most sensitive hearing, after all. And the one who could look at Thor with eyes glittering in such a way he just couldn't say no to her. Loki had spent entire afternoons laughing like a madman at that.
"My lady, your hair!" His cry pulled me forcefully back to the present.
"What…?" That caught me off-guard.
Instantly worried, I pulled at my ponytail, bringing the tip of it before my eyes. There seemed to be nothing wrong, it was still black, long, just fine…
"Brother!" Thor cried out then in righteous fury. "Why have you not turned the lady's hair back to her true color?!"
I blinked. Right, Thenidiel had mentioned that too. I had forgotten that for a moment.
"I'm afraid the change is permanent, brother." Loki shrugged, a glint of mischievousness in his eyes, though there was a hint of darkness on the edge.
"Permanent!" Thor's voice was getting way too loud.
"Thor, that's enough!" I snapped, finally losing my patience at him. "My hair is just fine as it is! I like it like this!"
That certainly surprised both brothers.
"You do?" Thor finally asked, shocked enough that his voice was lower.
Even Loki was looking at me dubiously.
It was probably convenient I'd always been able to think on my feet.
"I'm tired of people telling me how I should stop playing at being a warrior and act like a 'proper golden lady of Asgard'… well, I'm not a 'golden lady' anymore, am I?" I stated proudly, swinging my hair around a bit to emphasize my point.
"No, you're not." Thor nodded.
He took his leave then, seemingly lost in thought. Leaving Loki and I alone.
"You did not have to lie to defend me." He stated, evenly.
"I wasn't lying." I chose not to comment on the latter.
Truth is, it had never occurred to me, to change my hair color in order to be different, for people to stop seeing me like one of the 'ladies'. But it was as good a reason as any, considering the truth wasn't exactly available to me. And while that might not have been the reason for the color-change, technically none of what I said had been a lie, at all. As I thought that I couldn't help but think about Loki, about his title as 'God of Lies', and his repeated declarations that he never actually lied… people just heard wrong. It had seemed ludicrous at some point and yet… and yet I'd just seen how possible it was to twist words in order to conceal a truth without ever actually speaking a lie.
"No, you weren't." Loki admitted.
He was looking at me oddly, like he wasn't quite sure what to think about me.
"You don't have to be so suspicious of me, you know?" I couldn't help but blurt out.
"Don't I?" His arched brow and the tone of his voice showed how much he didn't believe me.
"No." I insisted. "I'm your friend Loki."
"Are you?" He did not scoff, though barely.
I tried not to feel hurt by his disbelief, reminding myself it wasn't his fault. I could only imagine how his mind might have twisted, trying to endure the loss of so many memories, of one person he was bound to in body, mind and soul…
"I am." I confirmed.
"I guess we'll see."
He was at least giving me a chance. I'd have to make the most of it.
xXx
It took eight months for Helena to give up. I found her packing all her things away into trunks, a travel-bag ready beside the door to her private apartments.
"Princess…?" I called quietly, hesitantly.
I had made an effort, during the past few months, to connect with her. Knowing that the loss of her mother must be affecting her. The way Loki had forgotten… she'd effectively lost her whole support system in a single day. And I was sure I wasn't imagining it, the way other people would look at her… like she was less. With some it was because of her scars of course, they didn't understand why she had them (they couldn't remember); and the idea that a lady who many had once believed would be named Goddess of Beauty, to have such scars marring half her body… But there was more, I knew that, even if I couldn't put my finger on it.
"You're leaving." I blurted out when laying eyes on her.
She was wearing a fully black dress, which had become common enough since the passing of her mother; but what I noticed more were the sturdy boots on her feet, and the dark, hooded cloak she held in her arms, ready to put it on (and, of course, the bag by the door).
"You're giving up." I did not mean to sound accusing, I really didn't, and yet…
"I'm not!" She hissed, affronted. "Though I imagine that's how it might look to some. I just… I cannot stand it anymore. I cannot stand looking at my father and seeing the way his eyes shadow whenever he looks at me, whenever…"
"Whenever he tries to think about your mother." I finished for her without thinking.
The thought had never occurred to me before, I wasn't sure it had occurred to anyone. If no one remembered Tinúviel, what did they think about Helena? Suddenly the other mutterings took a very different tint, one I did not like… but of course, if no one remembered Prince Loki having been married. That would make Helena a bastard-daughter in their eyes. I felt like cursing a storm, probably would have, if the pale-green eyed girl's next words hadn't caught me so by surprise and pulled me out of my dark mood:
"You remember my mother?!" She cried out in shock.
"I… I do." I didn't see the point in denying it.
It had become clear to me from early on that she remembered. Which I saw as a good thing, no child should be made to forget their parents. Even I, who could no longer call them my own, not since my father had disavowed me and my brothers refused to acknowledge me in any way (despite the fact that we were all warriors… I didn't want to imagine what might happen if war ever came and I were to be assigned to lead the units they were a part of; would they follow my orders or continue to ignore me?). In any case, I'd been glad to see that at least she seemed to be immune to the enchantment. Even if Loki wasn't; then again, Loki was at the whole root of things, he was the reason the enchantment had been enacted in the first place.
"How?" She asked me softly, cocking her head to a side.
"I went to see Lady Thenidiel, hours before the enchantment was cast." I revealed. "I… I knew it would change a lot, more than most would be able to plan for. I knew your father would need someone on his side. Someone to understand him, to still be his friend. He doesn't fully trust me, not yet, but I hope I'll be able to earn his trust some day."
"I'd found it curious." She admitted. "How everyone was so quick to judge him, to turn their backs on him, out of ignorance. All but you."
"Like I said, I knew he'd need someone."
"Yes. I knew that too…" She took a deep, ragged breath, I was almost sure she was fighting to hold back tears; too much her father's daughter to show her vulnerability before me. "I… I know how this all looks, but I promise I'm not giving up. I… I'm doing this for him, for ada… for my father, I have to leave."
"But why?"
"Every time he looks at me… the shadows in his eyes. He loves me, I know he does, and he feels it too. And of course he wants to know me, though for that, he'd need to know my mother…"
"And he doesn't."
"No. But his mind… every time he lays eyes on me, his mind fights the enchantment, trying to reach what he's missing. It hurts him. I know it does, even if he hasn't said. If things went on much longer… either he will break the enchantment, or his mind will break. I cannot risk either of them. I just… I cannot…"
"I cannot begrudge you that. Neither would he, if he could know."
"I was ready to let him go once, you know? When Nana first died. She warned me, since I was very little. About what it meant, being a match, being bonded so tightly to another. She was very honest with me about all of it, the good… and the bad. It's why I've always understood his changes. He's grieving her the only way he can… or he was, until he was made to forget. Now, the grief is still there, even if he doesn't understand what or who it is he's grieving. His soul reaches for something his mind can no longer name…" She shook her head, a hint of self-deprecation in her. "I was ready to let him go once. But not now. I cannot… I love him too much. And while some might see this as me abandoning him. I choose to see it as me giving him the chance to truly get better. That will never happen with me here."
"And so you'll leave."
"And so I'll leave."
"Do you have somewhere to go? Alfheim perhaps?"
"No, no I could never go to Alfheim. It might not be Adar's fault, but Alfheim hates him now, all because of what Grandfather has done. They see it as an insult to Nana. And while they might accept him, I cannot imagine what they might say about him. I will not stand it. So no, I shall not go there. Not Vanaheim either."
"Where then?"
"Helheim."
"Hel…" I broke off in shock, what could possibly possess anyone, least of all she, to go to such a Realm?! It's not like there was nowhere else she could go!
"I know what you're thinking. And it's not for lack of options, believe me. It's just… it feels right. When I was last there, while I was recovering from Amora's attack, I could sense it. The Realm was fallen into chaos since the lost of its last ruler."
"Last ruler? The Dead have a King?"
"They did, yes. His power was great, but anchored on the faith of mortals. Mortals that stopped believing in him, stopped believing in many they once called gods. Because of that his power lessened greatly. It eventually ended in his death, several millennia ago. Helheim has been without a proper ruler since, and it's clear they need one."
"And that's what you want to do? Become Queen of the Dead?"
"I think it's what I'm supposed to do. And I certainly can stay here no more. Midgard… it might be easy to lose myself there for a while, but at the pace the realm advances, sooner or later it will become too hard for me to hide the truth about myself, the fact that I'm not like them. I cannot be sure that, when that day comes, they'll be ready to face the truth about me, about the universe."
I knew most people saw Midgard as primitive, while Loki and Tinúviel liked it (or had liked it), they'd taken to visiting every so often, and I knew they'd made friends through the years. The idea that they might advance, that one day they might reach the might of Asgard seemed alien to me and yet… not impossible, not if Helena believed it to be so. I trusted her judgment.
"I'll go with you." The words came out of my mouth before I was even fully conscious of them.
"What…?" I even managed to take the princess by surprise.
"I'll go with you." I repeated. "Do anything I can to help you take your place as Queen of Helheim. I shall not stay, mind you. I still believe your father needs me, or he might some day. But I will make sure you're settled. It's what your mother would have wanted."
It's what her father would want if he were coherent enough to think about it… or even aware enough to know what his daughter was planning, to care about anything other than finding a new outlet for his pain… The way Helena had put it: trying to reach what he was missing, grieving even if he didn't know who or what… It pained me to think about it in such terms. It was one thing to know that Loki had forgotten his love yet still somehow felt the pain of the loss; but put in those words it somehow felt more real, more… terrible. A dark corner of my mind wondered how much of the real Loki would be left by the time Tinúviel found her way back, if she ever did (and I had to believe she would, otherwise what was the point of it all?).
xXx
It took about a month to secure Helena's throne, though by then she was known as Lady Hel, Queen of the Dead… the name I'd heard it before, she'd begun using it back in Asgard. It had been her last resort, to try and stay, thinking that perhaps that would be enough, that if she was no longer the 'light', her father might not get lost in his own head every time he looked at her. It's not like she looked like Tinúviel at all, she was very much her father's daughter, in both looks and magic and yet… the light in her eyes, the melodious voice as well as the kindness that showed through in her every word and deed, those were all her mother; and those were things that simply could not be hidden, no matter how hard she might try (not that she ever would, I knew, she'd been raised too well, for that).
"Hail Lady Hel, Queen of Helheim." I pronounced once it was all said and done; then added, in a lower tone: "Hail Princess Helena, daughter of Loki and Tinúviel, Goddess of Grief and Hope."
She said nothing, just looked at me, and I could almost believe she smiled, even if her mouth never did move. She was no longer Helena, not really, though I could only hope she'd get the chance to be her again, one day.
After that was settled I returned to Asgard. Loki looked at me oddly the first few days but said nothing about my absence, or my return. I knew he didn't trust me fully, yet, though I hoped that would change in due time. It was one of the few things I still had hope for anymore.
At the beginning I'd hoped for so much. For Tinúviel's quick return, for Loki to find peace, for Thor to remember the love he had for his brother, for Loki to find his place, get the support of his family… none of that had happened. Well, Tinúviel would return, I still believed that, as for the rest: nothing seemed to give Loki peace, it was all endless grief and insane attempts to release it, I had no idea how he was supposed to find his place under such circumstances; his family was no help (though that probably had something to do with the freaking enchantment… they didn't know anything was wrong, how could they be expected to help then?); as for Thor… I honestly had no idea what to think about Thor anymore. He'd always been boisterous, impulsive, acting before thinking; I never thought the day would come when he'd actually turn his back on his brother though. Always he had loved Loki, and while I still believed he loved his little brother, he was no longer showing it. The worst part? Everyone could see that, and they were reacting to it. It made them believe that Loki had fallen out of favor somehow, and they could suddenly get away with doing things they didn't dare before, because Thor wouldn't speak up in his brother's defense, because no one would care… they were wrong on the last one.
"Ow! Sif!" Fandral cried out as he dropped onto the training mats, practice sword broken and both of his hands on his face, covering his shattered nose, blood dripping through his fingers and down his chin already.
"Why did you do that?" Volstagg asked, eyes wide as he turned to look at the blonde, and the raven-haired in turns.
I couldn't exactly tell them it had been Fandral calling Loki a coward, simply because he refused to spar with them anymore. I purposefully hadn't offered, knowing Loki wouldn't have said no to me, trusting me to be honorable; though that would only have fanned the flames, stating that Loki only sparred with ladies. Never mind that I was one such lady and was quite capable of taking down any of the so-called Warriors-Three every two out of three spars; and considering they were some of the best warriors in the Realm…
"Well," Loki's voice called everyone's attention. "Hopefully now Fandral will know what a real warrior looks like, as opposed to a lady play-acting at being a warrior."
I almost screeched at that, truly. I'd always known that Fandral didn't exactly take me seriously as a warrior-lady, because I wasn't a Valkyrie. And he wasn't the only one. The only reason no one had ever tried to mock me, or harass me, was because it was well-known I had the friendship of both Asgardian princes. Thankfully, I understood what Loki was doing, fast enough to not reveal my previous lack of knowledge. Instead took up the hint and went from there.
"I may not be a Valkyrie, but I am a warrior." I stated in my strongest voice. "And if I need to break a few bones to prove it, so be it. After all, it'd seem that's the only way some warriors learn; through pain."
"If the lady would be interested in a better sparring opponent?" Loki added in a mocking tone.
"That'd be wonderful." I replied immediately.
We didn't even bother with practice weapons. He conjured a pair of knives, while I unsheathed my own sword. We stepped onto the closest free mat and then we were off. There were eyes on us, a lot of eyes; a part of me felt self-conscious, I hadn't had so many people watching me train since my first year in the palace. But I decided I might as well take advantage of it: so I began spinning, twisting and flipping, more than entirely necessary. I didn't know if Loki realized what I was doing, or just followed my lead because he felt as much the need to exhaust his excess energy, as I did. As far as I was concerned, if people were looking at us, we might as well give them a show.
After that day no one paid attention to Fandral's derogatory comments about Loki. Who in their right mind would have after seeing Loki fight like we did that day? And laughing all the while, showing that as insanely paced as the fight might have been, he never so much as lost his breath. It was a hell of a lesson, not just for Fandral and Volstagg, but for everyone.
xXx
Time passed, like the sun and the moon, making their circuit over us all. Days, months, years… until eventually I stopped keeping close count. In that time the Aesir grew used to me and Loki being close friends, sparring partners. We trusted one another. When we sparred he was free to call on his magic, knowing I'd never see it as less; just like he didn't see any problem with me fighting a little dirty every once in a while. Thor and the Warriors Three still spent a lot of time around us (or us around them), but it had become very clear that we weren't really friends, or at least, not as close as Loki and I, or as Thor was with the other three.
Fandral never did spar with us again, many didn't. Either because they didn't like Loki possibly using magic against them (did they think their enemies wouldn't use any advantage against them in actual battle? I found their choice foolish, but then again, that's also why I chose differently), or they were afraid of how badly they'd lose against us. Even those who hadn't been there that day, the day of my first spar with Loki, had heard all about it. It didn't matter if never again had we been that flashy while in the training arena, it was unlikely the Aesir would ever forget. I couldn't exactly mind, it was why I… why we did it in the first place.
Thor would still try to get us to all be together, to be friends, every so often. Usually by inviting (which was a nice way of saying he pressed, cajoled and at times metaphorically dragged) us to his and his friends' 'valiant quests'. Which were their words for it, Loki and I tended to call them 'insane undertakings likely to kill them all if we weren't there to save them'; which was really the only reason we went along. We knew, deep down, that if we didn't, one of them just might die, and while, if I was completely honest, neither of us cared much for the Warriors Three, Thor was another matter entirely. Regardless how careless, how unknowingly cruel he could be sometimes, he was still Loki's brother, and he still loved the brute; and me… I still remembered the man Thor had once been, the man he'd a potential for being. And who knew? Perhaps we might find a way of making him into that man again, someday. Which was why we couldn't risk him going to his own death. He needed people capable of keeping him safe during his insane undertakings, and it'd seem there was no one else for the job but Loki and I.
Which was pretty much how we ended in a part of Nidavellir that even the dwarves never went to. Then again, the dwarves hardly ever left their caves, and while we were effectively going into one, it was one that, according to records, wasn't connected to any of their cave systems and cities (as well as being pretty much on the other side of the planet from where they dwelt). As for why we were there… The Warriors Three had heard some dwarven merchants talking about Fafner, the last of the mighty dragons, who legend told guarded a treasure so great it would be impossible to quantify it. Never mind that no one alive had seen that treasure and could confirm it even existed, and of course there was the matter of the dragon. Of course, being incredibly drunk by then Fandral declared that if the dwarves weren't brave enough to fight the dragon to recover their own treasure, then the Aesir would rise up to the challenge. And of course, being the rest of them who they were, they were quick to confirm Fandral's statement. The dwarves insisted it was impossible, one couldn't just kill a dragon after all. There was a reason why Fafner had endured throughout the ages; it was said the dragon was older than Nidavellir itself! And then Thor went and announced their quest! (I wanted to believe it was the drink, needed to believe it, otherwise they were all much more stupid than I ever thought possible and there was no way even Loki and I together would ever be able to keep them alive for long).
Thor didn't even have to insist that we accompany them, no, Loki and I had agreed right away. They of course chose to believe it we were eager for the adventure, for the treasure and the glory, the idiots had no idea…
"We're all going to end up dead." Loki sentenced as we landed on Nidavellir.
Since it was an official quest, permission had been sought and granted by King Thorne. He even offered transport that would get us from the closest exit of his great underground city to the mountain where the dragon remained. It was clear in his eyes that he didn't have high hopes for us. He'd warned Thor, about what was said of the dragon, about all who'd died trying to do the very same thing he intended, but Thor wouldn't listen.
"Your brother is a very… stubborn individual, Prince Loki." King Thorne stated, coming close.
Not the word I'd have used, but the point remained.
"I'd rather not have the blood of good allies, of… friends, on my conscience." The dwarf king declared. "Even if we are fortunate and the beast is, indeed, dead, you must be aware that will be only one danger less."
"Indeed." Loki nodded.
I knew as well, Loki had taken the time to explain it to me while we were packing. The dragon was only the immediate, most obvious danger. It had been so long, if the stories were to be believed. With the desolation that was the surface of Nidavellir, there was a chance the creature would have died already, pretty much starved to death. That would not be the end, though. Dragons were creatures of magic, and one that old… there was no way of knowing the kind of curses that might be upon its hoard. And we knew well enough how unlikely it was that Thor and the Three would even stop to consider something like that.
"If worse comes to worst, you might find this useful, my lord." King Thorne added then, as he offered Loki something.
I saw it clearly as Loki received it, it was a crystal. And not just any crystal…
"I was unaware that your people were so gifted in the ways of magic." Loki stated, twisting the crystal in his hand this way and that.
"We're not." The ruler nodded. "We dwarves are of the stone, caves are our homes, we can survive in them well-enough. We were fortunate enough in the distant past to have the friendship of those with the power we did not possess, to cover our vulnerabilities." He meant the entrances to the caves, the magic that kept them sealed, so the poisoned air on the outside wouldn't get in; it was the same on the various 'windows'. "Thank the Maker, the earth gives us most of what we need. And we've always been able to count on a few good friends where it might be lacking."
I remembered: like the blessing Tinúviel had given them, which helped them grow plants. A huge boon considering how limited their possibilities were when it came to growing their own food. It wouldn't be good for them to depend entirely on others. I was reasonably sure that the crystal must hold Loki's own magic, siphoned to aid with Tinúviel's blessing; had no idea why Loki did not recognize it, but chose not to mention it. The last thing we needed was for the shadows to fill his eyes again, like whenever he'd look at Helena, especially with the coming 'quest'.
On the positive side: the dragon was mostly dead; on the not-so-positive one: it wasn't actually dead. Of course the Three went and did something idiotic, like we knew they would. We traveled in a carriage, provided by the King, we were all wearing protective suits, though Volstagg kept complaining; until Loki went and explained to him, in terrible, sickening, detail what would happen to him if he took it off. That shut him up quickly.
We made it to the cave and exited. Thor was all for rushing in and Loki and I could barely stop him. It was a good thing. When we finally went in we found there was indeed a huge treasure though most of it looked… off.
"This is more than just a dragon curse." Loki muttered under his breath.
He was bent down, observing several pieces of treasure, being very careful not to touch anything.
"So, where is this great dragon everyone talks about?" Fandral asked at one point. "Because I see no mighty beast here at all…"
We all turned when he cut off, and the reason became clear soon enough, because there, around the bend from where we'd been standing, was the dragon. To say the creature was big would be a terrible understatement. I wasn't sure I'd ever seen any being bigger than that one. Its scales were of a gold so dark…
"That's not treasure…" Loki said it at the same time the idea came to my head, jumping up and away. "They're dragon scales."
There was no way to know for sure if dragons shed their skin and scales like snakes did, or if the same thing that prevented dwarves (and any animals, plats, etc., from surviving on the surface of Nidavellir) was doing him in. Fafner was certainly a magnificent creature, one that had endured through ages, only to die right then, either for lack of sustenance, poisoning or simply age we might never know. One thing was for sure though, there was no great treasure to be found (well, perhaps there might be something beneath the scales, but I certainly wasn't going to go looking). Of course, I had a sensible head on my shoulders, such wasn't the case for most others.
I was never sure what started it in the end. If Fandral was really idiotic enough to pick something, or if Volstagg (who already had his weapon out by that point) had truly been so stupid as to go and poke a dragon! Whichever the case, the results were bad, really bad. Because while looking really bad, and being mostly dead, in the end Fafner was not dead just yet.
What followed was so insane I was never fully sure of how things happened. There was roaring, screaming, dragon-fire, scales and pieces of what might have actually been treasure flying everywhere as the Three insisted on taking a stand, on fighting, even as Loki kept doing his best to conjure ice and shields in order to keep the fight away and I screamed at them all to get out. They didn't listen, they never did. Loki was so focused on protecting Thor from dragon-fire, while the others fended off the claws, none of them saw the tail coming at them. None but I…
"Loki beware!" I screamed.
I barely managed to push him out of the way in time, though even then I ended with a deep slash on my flank for my troubles.
"Thor!" Volstagg yelled right then. "The sleeve on Hogun's suit caught fire. It's bad!"
Of course they were all so focused on themselves, no one, not even Thor, seemed to notice that we almost got killed!
The dragon roared yet again and came at us. And then Loki acted. Faster than I could fully follow, faster than I thought was possible: he pulled the crystal King Thorne had given him out of somewhere and brandished it as it it were the pommel of a sword. One moment it was a crystal, and then it really was the hilt of a blade… one made entirely of the darkest-blue ice. Somehow that ice was able to do what none of our weapons had managed thus far: it pierced the dragon's armor-like skin, deep. A mortal blow. Of course, being mortally wounded didn't mean it was dead just yet. In its dying throes the creature still managed to do some damage, slamming Fandral against one wall, leaving a deep gouge on Loki's shoulder, before its tail finally hit one of the walls hard enough that the cave itself began falling upon us.
"We need to get out!" I screamed. "We need to get out now!"
Even Fandral didn't dare disagree with me, though that was probably because (as I found out later) his shoulder was dislocated, his head was bleeding and he could barely help Volstagg stay on his feet (Volstagg had a leg slightly singed and had been hit on the torso hard enough two ribs were cracked). Thor seemed to be the only one hesitating, but Loki and I simply took one of his arms each and we pulled him out. We barely made it out…
xXx
Many versions were told of what happened that day, in that cave, with the dragon; many versions though none of them the truth. The better known version said that Thor and the Warriors Three had fought the dragon with some help from myself, while Loki stayed back for whatever the reason. That the dragon had been slayed (no version gave credit to anyone specific, though many insisted it must have been Thor… for no other reason than it was Thor, and even those that were willing to concede it might not have been him, none even considered that it might have been Loki… none except King Thorne, who knew exactly what had happened with the crystal, as I informed him in the aftermath). The tale ended with Thor sacrificing any claim to the treasure in order to get us all out of the cave in time (no one would have believed who ended getting who out, or that there had been no treasure at all!).
Loki never even tried to reveal the truth of what had happened that day, though the next time Fandral tried to make a veiled comment about Loki's tricks and predilection for 'staying back' during a battle, Loki in turn asked Fandral to tell the story of how his hair had ended so short… as it happened, not long after our return from Nidavellir (as soon as we were all recovered), Loki arranged it so Fandral would be discovered with one of his newest conquests by the lady's father. The man did not like finding Fandral with his daughter in their barn and went after him with anything he had at hand, the most important which ended being a sickle. The man managed to get so close to Fandral with that blade he cut off half his hair on the left side of his head, and made a cut just behind his ear, deep enough it scarred. Of course Fandral had had to cut all his hair to match. He'd tried to claim it was all due to a training accident, but somehow a couple of servants ended overhearing when the girl in question went looking for Fandral, to apologize for what her father had done; and thus the real story came out: how 'Fandral the dashing' had been caught with his pants down, literally, and been almost killed by a farmer with a harvesting tool!
That was how Loki handled things. He didn't bother trying to defend his honor, knowing already no one would believe him (being that they knew him as the god of lies and all), but neither did he allow them to go without consequences. No, those that wronged him were made to pay, even if they never knew Loki was behind it.
Several months after our 'misadventure' Loki informed me he'd be away for a few days, he was planning on going back to Nidavellir, to repay what King Thorne had given us. A part of me still wondered how much he'd been able to deduce when using the crystal, if he knew the energy to have been his own, and what his mind might have spun to explain the presence of such a crystal in Nidavellir. They were questions I'd never dare ask. So instead I just wished him the best, and did what I could not to grow too bored in his absence.
It wasn't easy, Thor and the Three weren't my friends, I didn't really have friends anymore aside from Loki. It should have horrified me, the idea that I basically did not have a life outside of him, but I couldn't help but think that if it weren't for me Loki would have no one at all… also, I could not begin to imagine the kind of person I would be if I hadn't gone to Lady Thenidiel that day. Would I be spending all my time with Thor and the Three still? Probably, I'd have been there friend, and that friendship would have protected me from those who believed women in Asgard shouldn't be warriors, unless they were Valkyries. But would that also mean that I would treat Loki the same way they did? Mocking at best, insulting at worst? The prospect horrified me. I simply couldn't fathom it. Loki was my dearest friend, as good as a brother to me, the idea of treating him as any less than that…
I still ended in the training grounds somehow. Bored out of my mind as I spun a practice staff around. No one sought to spar with me anymore. It was ironic because the Aesir finally saw me as a warrior-lady in my own right, but they no longer trained with me. And then the one thing I never expected happened: one of the valkyries approached me:
"Interested in a sparring partner?" She offered.
She was small, compared to her companions, the smallest of them all. With straw-blonde hair falling to about the middle of her back, two bangs pulled back and braided together to keep the rest in place, her eyes were blue. She wore a short-sleeved battle dress in a very pale blue, and brown-leather laced-up boots; and in her hands she held a wooden staff. I knew who she was: Lady Ylva, second in command of the Valkyries, she had once been Tinúviel's bodyguard as well as the head of her handmaidens (this after Amora's attack, when the Allfather had decided that some more protection was needed). Of course, with Tinúviel gone from everyone's minds, Ylva had apparently never been anything other than a Valkyrie.
"I noticed that your usual partner isn't around today." She commented, staff at the ready.
"He had some errands to run." I answered offhandedly, not wanting to give anything away.
Ylva just shrugged, then cocked her head to a side, waiting for my response. For a moment I wondered if it was really the best idea. Valkyries had never approached me before, even when I was named as Goddess of War (following Amora's attack and my near death), even when I was given praise, there had never been any such offers for training. It had made me wonder once or twice if maybe they were like almost all other warriors, thinking I didn't belong. After all, they, like the Einherjer, had earned their place through worthy deeds; deeds that had seen them to Valhalla, and then to Asgard, to serve. I could make no such claims. Then again, Ylva was the one offering, so why shouldn't I take the chance?
I didn't answer, instead I took hold of my own staff with both hands, dropping into a stance. That was enough, a second later we were off.
It was one of the most intense spars I'd had in my life. While Loki was certainly very talented, truth was that I was beginning to get used to his style, we both were, which in turn allowed us to go longer, though at the same time, it meant it wasn't as hard anymore. There was also the fact that, being a woman, Ylva moved in ways Loki didn't. She kept me on my toes. When the fight finally came to an end, it wasn't because either of us conceded, or actually lost. It ended when our practice staves impacted for the umpteenth time, only to shatter into pieces in our hands.
Neither of us moved for a handful of seconds. I actually considered using the pieces and continue the spar, but we weren't wearing any armor, either of us, and while wooden splinters certainly wouldn't kill us, they could be a bitch to deal with, and I'd rather not. So I dropped the pieces of wood and straightened up. Ylva nodded, probably having come to the same conclusion and did the same, the fact that one of her pieces broke further upon contact with the ground told me it had been the right choice.
"You're good, Lady Sif." She stated easily. "I wouldn't mind sparring with you again."
"It would be an honor, my lady Valkyrie." I bowed my head. "Please, call me Sif."
"In that case, my name is Ylva, Sif." She informed me kindly. "Valkyrie I might be, but that makes me no better than you are. We're both warrior women in the end."
The two of us kept sparring together for the rest of the week and I was quite confident that we were on the way to becoming good friends. Even some of the other Valkyries had begun talking to me, offering advice and praising my skills. It was what I'd always wanted, though it hurt to think it had only come about after so much loss…
It still caught me by surprise when Ylva invited me to have a drink with her after training finished one night. Of course I said yes, and we made plans to meet on a side entrance to the palace after washing up.
Like probably most in Asgard, my usual clothes weren't much different from what I wore when training. A maroon knee-length dress with some details in a lighter shade, warm brown breeches underneath (so as not to appear too indecent) and dark-brown leather boots, my hair in a simple twist at the nape of my neck. Ylva on the other hand… when I met with her she was wearing a sky-blue short-sleeved, ankle-length dress with a long-sleeved gray long-sleeved under-tunic and tanned-leather boots; her blonde hair was down, though the most striking was the crimson red hooded cloak she wore on top.
"Come," She said simply as she guided me.
It took me no time to realize we weren't going in the direction of the nearest tavern, or any tavern at all. Instead we went into the woods, first following one of the usual paths, then shifting onto a smaller one, until suddenly there was no path at our feet. I asked no question though. I'd noticed early on that from the moment she'd pulled the hood over her head, people stopped looking her way, and even those who did, it was as if they looked through her, rather than at her. I felt it too, the moment I tried to focus on her, there was some magic in there, though since I had no talent for it, I couldn't know what it did exactly. Still, I trusted Ylva, Loki had handpicked her to be his match's bodyguard, so clearly she was trustworthy; and even if I hadn't the slightest idea where she was taking me exactly, I believed it couldn't be for anything bad.
I sensed the shift, the moment we stepped into the clearing. Even with no magic, I knew there was something… off. The clearing was big, and almost completely obscured, with how thick the trees above us were. Ylva said nothing, instead she went to hang the lantern she'd been carrying from one of the trees.
"I trust her." She announced, apparently to no one, as she pushed back the hood of her cloak.
First I heard the growl low, barely noticeable at all. Then I felt my body tense instinctively as my skin broke into goosebumps, my body's signals that there was a predator nearby, and I was in its sight. Still, Ylva remained at ease, and I forced myself to do the same, to not let my hand stray towards the blade I kept strapped to my thigh. It felt like I was in some kind of test, one I couldn't afford to fail.
And then I saw it… the figure was so tall at first I thought it was just part of the shadows around us, until it got close enough to us, to the lantern, I noticed the edges of the form: of the huge black wolf. He was bigger than a horse, bigger than Ylva, than me even! I gave an instinctive step back, barely managing to keep myself from falling into a fighting stance, and then I noticed something: its eyes, a hazel color, there was too much intelligence in those eyes for an animal. And then my mind caught up with me.
"Fenris Wolf…" I breathed out.
Of course I knew about Loki's 'adopted children'. I'd heard about them from both Loki and Tinúviel. And everyone in Asgard knew about Fenris Wolf… the wolf-man who'd been dazzled by the beauty of Lady Idunn of the Golden Apples, had sought to court her; only he was too animalistic, and moved by fear, the Goddess of Immortality set the Royal Guard on him. Loki and Tinúviel barely managed to convince the Allfather not to have him killed, he'd never meant the lady any harm, he just went about things the wrong way. Still, he ended being sentenced to imprisonment, in a clearing deep in the darkest forest of Asgard…
I blinked, as I fully realized how important it was that I was there. And then there was another shift, as the wolf seemingly melted into the shadows, leaving in its place a man, dressed fully in black, with hair of a brown so dark it was almost black as well, and the same hazel eyes I'd seen in the wolf.
"I prefer Fenrir." He announced with a sassy smile.
"You definitely are Loki's kid." I blurted out without thinking twice.
That brought about loud laughter from him.
"Indeed." He agreed.
"Why are we here?" I asked, focusing half my attention of him, half on Ylva.
I was quite sure neither of them missed the question I wasn't quite asking, but still hung between us: Why had Ylva brought me there? Though to be honest, what I was confused most about was how she even knew about Fenrir at all. Considering what most Aesir believed about the 'demonic wolf' (and the epithet said enough about that), I found it odd that she'd be there; then again, I was finding a lot of things about Ylva odd on this night.
"I trust you Sif." She informed me. "Probably more than you'd imagine. I brought you here as a show of that trust. I am Fenrir's consort."
That certainly threw me for a loop. Though, once I stopped and thought about it, it was fitting. Ylva was exactly the kind of woman to match someone like Fenrir. Even if I had never met him before, if I didn't really know him. There was an aura about him, a mix of intelligence and… wildness, and she was very much the same.
"What do you want from me?" I asked next, because I knew there had to be something.
"You're in a very enviable position." She informed me. "So close to our Prince Loki…"
That made me react. Instantly I backed off several steps, pulled out the dagger I kept strapped to my right thigh and dropped into a defensive half-crouch.
"If you even think about hurting Loki…" I hissed.
Ylva blinked, surprised, while Fenrir… he just laughed.
"Oh, you'll do." He announced, in between chuckles.
"We'd never even think about hurting him." Ylva stated in a half-chastising, half-proud tone. "Truth is we wish we could be there, to help, be there for him. But there's nothing we can do. Fenrir because he's trapped in this clearing and me… I just don't have a reason for being close to him, not anymore. Not with the princess gone."
It took me all of three seconds to process what she had just said, and the significance of it:
"You remember Tinúviel?!" I cried out in shock.
"Yes, of course." She nodded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Why are you so shocked?" Fenrir inquired. "You clearly remember her as well!"
"Because I went to Alfheim and got a potion from Lady Thenidiel to keep the enchantment from affecting me." I pointed out. "How did you get around that?"
"I didn't." Ylva answered. "I just wasn't close enough to the royal family, not after the passing of the princess, to know what was going to happen. And yet… the enchantment did not affect Fenrir. Whatever it was that was done, it didn't contemplate someone like him, so it didn't affect him, he never forgot. And our bond… we chose to use the Ancient Vows when we bonded, it was that bond which restored my memories, in time. I never forgot him, not him; and then when it finally occurred to me to wonder how exactly had we come to be together… the memories began coming back, one by one."
"So you remember everything then?" I wanted to confirm.
"I'm reasonably certain, yes." She nodded. "Since I remembered enough I've been going crazy. Wanting to help Loki yet not knowing how. And then you… at first I wasn't sure if the friendship you shared had really endured, or if you were doing Prince Thor a favor of some kind… then came your quest to Nidavellir."
I snorted.
"Yes, I know that all the versions of the story being told through the realms, none of them are true, not completely." She went on. "Prince Loki has never cared for explaining what really happened, nor would I expect him to. But you made sure that, whatever people might believe, no one would so much as think that the prince was a coward. Whatever might be said about his magic, his 'tricks', you made sure there wasn't so much as a whisper of cowardice."
"It's one thing to not be interested in praises and plaudits, but I will not allow anyone to impugn on his honor."
Ylva smiled at me.
"Yes yes, you're a very honorable lady, and very willing to defend Loki's honor." Fenrir said in a drawl. "The point is, we need an in."
"The princess might be gone, no one but us might even remember her, but that does not mean I will let go of the oaths I once took." Ylva elaborated. "She was more than just my princess, she was my family. And if she's not here for me to be of service to her, Prince Loki is, and I shall not ignore that."
"Well, Loki could always do with some more sparring partners." I shrugged.
And some more friends, but I'd rather not say that part, it sounded too personal.
We spent the next couple of hours making plans on how to approach the situation. How to get Loki to accept it, accept Ylva, without his suspecting some kind of foul play. We also drank, Ylva had with her a bottle of some of the best mead I'd ever tasted. It was, all in all, a good night.
We were making our way back; while I'd have liked to take my leave and allow them their privacy, truth was I wasn't sure I could find my way back to main road, much less the palace itself, and even though Asgard wasn't so big that I'd remain lost forever, it still wouldn't have been good. So Ylva was guiding me back. We had almost made it out of the forest when I saw her pull the hood of the cloak back into place, the question came spilling from my lips before I could even think about stopping myself:
"Why the red hooded cloak?"
"It was a gift. A wedding gift, from Prince Loki and Princess Tinúviel." She explained. "It's spelled both to keep me warm, and ward me from prying eyes."
Which explained why people had stopped really looking at her after she put it on.
"Is there some particular reason why it's red?" I couldn't help but ask next.
Because really, if I sought to conceal myself I probably would wear a dark cloak, rather than one so… bright.
"Where I come from… before Valhalla, I mean." She elaborated. "My grandmother once made me one just like this. That too was a wedding present, I was meant to wear it on my wedding, to show that I was no longer a maiden, but a married woman."
She said no more. I had a feeling that story hadn't had a happy ending. And really, for her to have ended in Valhalla, looking so young… yeah, I could imagine her story hadn't had a particularly happy ending. At least not back then. Seeing her with Fenrir… it was clear to me they were happy, regardless of the difficulties caused by his imprisonment. They were a match, they were happy. And hopefully, one day they'd be free and happy together as well.
xXx
When Loki returned, he had a gift for me. He didn't tell me what the occasion was, only that it was important, and would rather give it to me in private. I knew how some people would take me getting a present from him, so I agreed and we retired to his private sitting room. There, waiting for us was a chest. Of dark oak, with metal inlaid, a coat of arms on the top: a shield with what some might call knots, others vines on the border (it was the image of my shield, empty in the center because I had no family to claim, or who might claim me), behind it, a sword, only the two-handed hilt and the tip visible on the top and bottom; and behind all that a shadow that, depending on the angle one were to look at it from, either appeared to be a female crouched and ready for battle, or a dragon curled and ready for the same.
I was breathless for a moment. I didn't need Loki, or anyone else, to tell me what I was looking at: my very own coat of arms. Loki had taken the one thing I had from home, a shield made by one of my brothers, empty to signal the lack of family, of lineage, and turned it into a coat of arms all my own. Just that on its own was such a gift, like I never imagined receiving; and yet I knew, even before so much as touching it, that the chest wouldn't be empty.
I was right. Inside I found a battle-dress, the style was a bit different than I wore, more feminine, though without impeding mobility, and a mix of scarlet, golden and maroon, rather than the maroon and steel my original one was. And beneath the battle dress…
"Oh…" If the coat of arms made me lost my breath, laying eyes on what was at the bottom of that chest almost made my heart stop beating entirely.
It was armor. A full set. Golden. At first I wondered at that, Loki was the only one to wear a set of gold-armor, and only because it, as well as his clothes were reinforced with probably every protective spell in existence. Gold on its own would have been much too fragile to shield anyone properly (it was one of many silent ways Loki showed where his own proficiency laid: in magic). But when I ran a finger across the breastplate, I realize it did not feel like Loki's armor. It wasn't smooth at all, but somewhat coarse, slightly bumpy, a bit like… like snakeskin or…
"The dragon…?" I breathed out in disbelief.
"The dwarves went to the site of our battle after we left." Loki explained to me. "Like we knew already, there was hardly anything in the way of treasure, and nothing that could be safely taken into the city. They did find a lot of the scales the dragon had shed through the years, and the oldest ones, the ones shed when Fafner was still healthy, had withstood the years and the poison." He tilted his head to a side. "King Thorne insisted that anything that could be recovered rightfully belonged to us, since we killed the dragon."
Of course, I could read between the lines well-enough: it rightfully belonged to him, because he was the one who slayed the dragon.
"The dwarves are the best master crafters in the 9 Realms, and while most might know what they're capable of with stone and jewels… the same is true for dragon scales." Loki went on. "They're probably the only race in all the realms that can work it. Considering how tough the skin is, impervious to all kinds of magic. I commissioned the best set of armor they could do, as well as a few things for myself. Cannot use it much, seeing how it'd interfere with my own magic. But you have no magic and this will protect you better than any other armor in the 9 Realms. Consider it a gift from a friend."
"This is so much… more than any friend would give." I could see the tension, the expectation of rejection; so I hurried to add: "I'd take it as a gift from my brother. If that's not too much presumption on my part."
"Perhaps." He smirked at me. "But if so it is a feeling I share… sister-mine."
The armor included a small dagger, the length of a hand-span, perfect to keep concealed on my person at all times. I pulled it out, using it to slash open my palm, before flipping it around and offering it to Loki, hilt first. He looked at me with an unreadable expression for a moment, and then… he smiled, a smile I hadn't seen for a very long time, not since Tinúviel's death. It wasn't as bright as his smiles had been back then, but still so much more than I imagined possible. He took the offered blade and slashed his own palm, and then we held hands.
"Blood brother." I pronounced, with all the solemnity such a ceremony required.
"Blood sister." He said in turn.
There were prayers we could have said, but there was no need. Not with Loki's incredible magic. A declaration of intent was all that was needed, we both felt the moment when the bond took and our hands healed, leaving a thin silver scar across our palms.
It was later on, as I sat on the floor in my room, studying each piece of the armor, the significance to it: it was well-known that Loki dared use armor made of gold because he did not need anything more durable, as both the armor and his very clothes had every protective spell in existence (and probably some no one but him knew) woven into it. Tinúviel's own favored clothes had been the same (if only Amora hadn't used against her a curse that fed on magic of all things!). I also knew that Loki couldn't do that just for anyone, there needed to be a connection between them (like them being a match). And in the absence of that connection (we hadn't been blood siblings then, and I wasn't sure if that would have been enough anyway), he'd gotten me the best protection possible, armor made from the only material stronger than any Asgardian or dwarven metal: dragon scales. Armor that would also protect me from any possible magical attack…
Tears were falling down my face before I was fully aware of them. I was already making plans of wearing at least parts of the armor from the very next day on. I couldn't wear all of it straight out, it would have called too much attention, and I didn't want that kind of scrutiny. I knew Loki wouldn't care, but he probably knew already what I was planning on doing. We knew each other well enough for that. Even then, I couldn't wait for the day I could finally step out in my new battle dress and full armor (probably the next time Thor and the Three got the 'brilliant idea' to go on an insane quest that had the potential of ending with all of us dead…). It was unlikely any of them would know what it was made of; they'd either think it was made of gold and spelled to be stronger, or of some other, better, metal and painted to look like gold. I cared little for that. Loki and I'd know the truth (and the dwarves, if they ever happened to see us), that was enough.
I was contemplating what present I could get for him that might in any way compare with what he'd just given me (though I doubted I'd be able to come anywhere close), when my eyes strayed to the ivory handheld mirror laying on my night-table. It was a gift from the Lady Helena, and as good as it might be to see myself, its true purpose was to serve as a way to communicate with her, without having to walk the Road to the World of the Dead (and while I had her blessing to walk her lands while being alive, I'd rather not do it). I remembered her last message:
"Nana isn't here." She informed me, and when I clearly failed to understand she explained: "I've fully taken over Helheim now, I know all who wander the Realm, and she's not one of them. I'm sure we both know my mother enough that she'd have never crossed to the Other Side and Eternal Rest without my father. Which leaves us one option:"
"She's among the living." I finished for her.
It was no guarantee, of course. It could take a few years or centuries, but we knew it then, the day would come when the two would reunite. There was no doubt in my heart.
"I will protect him for you princess." I whispered to the empty room. "My word as my vow, when you finally find your way back to him, he will be here. He will be as whole as I can make him. This is I swear."
As always, full sized cover and set of wallpapers can be found on DA.
As this is the last fic on one set (there will be a last one) I'll be taking a break once it's finished, six weeks instead of the usual three I let pass between stories. For the last set you will see other incarnations of Nightingale, other possibilities.
See ya around!
P.S. Don't forget to leave kudos and comment.
P.P.S. Anyone wanna guess what the other incarnations of Nightingale will be?