The world was a blur. A muted mixture of greys and whites and blacks, of lowered voices that didn't make sense to his ears. He didn't know where he was, or what was going on. In fact, his mind was so clogged up and as bleary as his eyesight that Loki couldn't make sense of anything for several minutes. He just lay there, resting on some cold surface the current processes of his mind could not yet identify. His eyes remained closed.
He felt sick to his stomach. It felt as if every fibre of his being was ablaze in an inferno of wrathful flames.
There was a gentle, careful nudge of a lukewarm nose against his left hand and a flow of worry sang through him. He attempted to reach out toward the muzzle attached to that nose and felt his fingers brush against fur.
"You're okay," he breathed. His throat hurt, it was rough and raw - the aftermath of screaming and shouting, he'd imagine.
"And so are you," Ásenthilay rasped. She sounded as bad as he felt. "You sound as bad as I too feel."
Loki heard her let out a quiet chuff of laughter, which was immediately followed by a lance of pain that struck down Loki's left side. He winced, and he was certain that Ásenthilay winced too.
Cautiously, he opened his eyes to see his dæmon's chocolate brown eyes focused upon him. She dropped open her maw slightly in a small smile.
"I knew it was only a matter of time until you woke up," she said quietly. "I have been awake only for a little while, although it feels as if I've been awake longer."
"I'd imagine," Loki said, offering her the slightest waver of a smile.
Her ears flicked back, catching the sound of something that he could not. She sat back on her haunches, a slight gust of air passing Loki by in reaction to her movements. "I told the healers to leave us for a while. They will be returning here again soon. As you can tell, they have yet to fully deal with our unfortunate injuries."
"'Unfortunate', hm," Loki murmured, turning his head away to stare at the wall opposite him; dull stone alight in the glow of the imprisoned flames.
"I'm sorry," Ásenthilay said, her voice low and heavy with remorse.
"You just did what you thought was best, at the time." There was a downward twist to Loki's lips. "Even if it did not end in the way either of us would expect."
"I didn't think that he would have resorted to such violence."
Yes, 'he'. Not Father, not Odin nor All-Father. Just, 'he'. The quiet fury and resentment that simmered through Loki's core, that was just as prominent a feeling through Ásenthilay's veins, refused for them both to acknowledge their abuser as anything other than a pronoun.
"That is his way. An inciter of anger, annoyance and upset is he."
A backlash of 'his' attack flooded through their mind; the blue flash of light, Ásenthilay's scream of agony, the look of grim determination on Odin's face.
Loki hated him for it.
He hated him for the damage he had caused.
But, what damage was that exactly?
Even if the healers had taken them here, seen to their injuries for as long as they had before Ásenthilay sent them away, what remained?
Loki looked back to Ásenthilay then, studying her. She seemed uncomfortable under his scrutiny, he'd noticed that. All of this time, she'd turned slightly away as if to hide something...
"What is it?" he asked, turning to face her as best he could, his body protesting in flashes of aches and inflexibility.
She wouldn't look at him, her eyes fixed on the floor. "The energy that harmed me, it, has left me debilitated."
"How, exactly, do you mean?"
She turned back to look at him fully.
His eyes widened.
Where her left foreleg should have been, there was a half-healed patch of inflamed skin in its place.
She shifted, pressing closer to the table he rested upon, and then reached up to brush her snout across his hand in an act of reassurance. "It's okay. I'm fine."
"You are not fine," Loki said quietly. "This is far from fine."
He reached down and curled his fingers in the wild fur of her ruff. "Does he even care about us?" he asked, his voice a whisper.
Ásenthilay's ears lowered. "I know not."
They'd been sent to their chambers to recuperate after the healers had mended them. For Loki and Ásenthilay, that was all they wanted.
They lay upon the floor, close to their bed, both leaning back against it. Loki wrapped his arms around Ásenthilay's broad neck, trying not to look down at the space where her left foreleg should have been. Unconsciously, he began to run one hand through her fur, his mind running through the events that had led up to now - led up to this.
"He doesn't understand," Ásenthilay said.
"And he never will," Loki responded. "What he has done, what he has done to you, I will never forget it. Never had I thought that he would cross such boundaries as to cause us harm."
"He did not think that I was your soul, he saw me as a mere creature." Although she spoke as if she was defending him, there was a bitter edge to her tone.
"You do not wish to defend him, and you know it. What he has done, it cannot be forgiven. Iwill not forgive him and I am certain that you will not either. Look at what he has done to you." His words caught in his throat, his gaze automatically finding that of the emptiness where Ásenthilay's limb should be.
Looking away, Ásenthilay muttered, "Let's just rest."
Even though his mind was rife with arguments over everything that had happened, he had to agree. After everything that had occurred, all he wanted to do right now was sleep.
Standing, he switched his clothes into ones of comfort with a wordless spell and slipped under the bed sheets. Ásenthilay leaped up and curled up close to him.
"Ásenthilay?" Loki asked quietly.
"Hm?"
"You can't shift form anymore, can you?"
"No, I can't."
"... I think it's for the best."
As exhaustion claimed him, an echo of Ásenthilay's scream tore through his mind, imprinting itself deep within his dreams.
"Loki?"
Pulled away from the darkness of slumber, Loki awoke to find Frigga worriedly standing at the doorway.
"How are you faring?"
"Very well," he lied, pushing himself up into a sitting position. Ásenthilay opened her eyes blearily and moved a little, flicking her ears back. She watched Frigga warily.
Frigga's eyes narrowed in that scrutinizing way it always had when she knew he was being insincere.
"I can tell," she said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her.
"What do you want?"
"To talk," she simply replied, conjuring up a chair and sitting down gracefully upon it.
Loki placed one hand upon Ásenthilay's head, remaining silent.
"Your father did not understand the nature of his actions, nor the damage that he was to cause before he had caused it."
"He does not deserve excuses, he still went through with what he did regardless of whether or not he understood."
"I am not defending him, Loki. I am merely stating what is the truth. The fact that he persisted, is on his own head. He is in shock over what has happened to you and Ásenthilay both, I am sure."
Loki scoffed. "I doubt he cares much for my soul."
"He does care, he cares dearly for you, my son - it is simply difficult for him to express it clearly."
"If he truly loved me, then he would listen to me, acknowledge what I previously told him of the Midgardians. He should have acknowledged it as the truth!"
"Loki, remember that your trickery has led him into believing the worst of you-"
Loki laughed bitterly. "So now you are defending him! Of course-"
"I am not defending him," Frigga interrupted calmly. "This is yet another fact that you would rather I not speak of, and you know it."
Loki fell silent, glaring resentfully at her.
She shook her head and sighed, reaching up to rub at her temple with a finger. "Loki, what I wish to discuss with you is not to do with your father. It is, in fact, to do with Midgard."
Ásenthilay observed her carefully, squinting her chocolate brown eyes. "After everything that he has done and you wish, instead, to speak of Midgard? Why?"
"There is a reason why you are here," Frigga answered, looking at her. "And it isn't simply due to Loki's decision to step through the portal."
Loki leaned forward, a furrow to his brow. "How do you know-?"
"Of it? Because I was the one to open that particular portal."
Ásenthilay sat up, her eyes growing wide. Loki grasped at the thick fur upon her neck, his gaze mirroring his dæmon's own. "What?" he said, barely able to believe it. "You opened that portal? But, why didn't you close it behind you?"
"I was only going to stay in Midgard for a short while, then return. There were... things I had to attend to."
"Attend to what, exactly?"
She looked away. "Matters involving dæmons."
A flash of Ásenthilay's magpie visage filled his thoughts for a moment. "You... have a dæmon, don't you?"
"Yes."
"You went to see that dæmon."
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me?" he said, his voice rising in frustration. "You could have helped me understand."
"It was better to let you understand for yourself what it is like to live with your soul separate from your body," she replied, her gaze flickering to Ásenthilay for a moment, before she let it rest back upon Loki.
He clenched his hands into fists. He should be angry with her, furious. She was the catalyst for all of this. She was the one that had led Ásenthilay into getting hurt...! But, if it had not been for her and the portal that she had left exposed, he would never have been able to meet Ásenthilay in the first place.
Absently, he reached up to run a hand through her fur.
To this day, he would never wish to have done things any differently.
He would never wish to have never travelled down to Midgard.
But, something concerned him. If Mother had a daemon, where was it?
"Where is your dæmon?" he asked quietly.
She straightened in her seat, placing her hands upon her lap. "Back upon Midgard. She is separated from me," she replied.
"Separated?"
"Yes, we both decided upon it a long time ago. It was best for her to remain down there, whilst I stayed up here in Asgard, thus we both stretched the connection that bound us as far as it would go. Now, we are both free to do as we please."
The thought of stretching the connection between himself and Ásenthilay, suffering through the pain that had left them partially debilitated at the hands of him, it was shudder inducing. It left Loki feeling sick to his stomach, Ásenthilay's ears falling back against her head in reaction to the waves of nausea, that fed itself through their invisible link.
"I do not wish for you to separate from your dæmon," Frigga said. "It is an experience that I would never wish for you to undergo but, I want you both to be safe."
Loki frowned. "Safe? Is there something you are trying to hint at, Mother?"
"Indeed there is. Loki, I wish for you to leave Asgard for a while, if possible, alongside myself."
Emitting a low grunt, Ásenthilay lifted her head. She tilted it to the side in question. "Why?"
The very same query had just been buzzing around inside of Loki's head: Why would she wish for him to leave Asgard? For what purpose? Unless, it was to do with him and what he had committed.
"It is to do with what transpired between myself and... Father, isn't it?" he asked.
Frigga inclined her head in answer. "It is. Many of the Aesir, along with your father, do not wholly understand the realms outside of Asgard as they should. I wish to correct that. Firstly, by accompanying you on the journey down to Midgard, to leave you with one of the All-Father's watchers. Through the eyes of the bird he will learn and see as much as you do yourself. It would be a good experience for him - as well as you. It would make him learn from his mistakes... From, what he did to you." Bitterness seeped into her tone and her brow furrowed slightly, her gaze looking somewhere beyond Loki for a brief time.
She came back to herself quickly, however, and focused back upon them both once more. "I will be asking permission of your father to travel down there within the next few days, to allow you time to rest and allow me time to make the proper arrangements."
Loki frowned.
Travel? To Midgard? It was something that had been preying upon his mind for many years. Often he had asked Ásenthilay if she would ever wish to go with him back down to Midgard to learn more of the things that they had left behind but, the opportunity to fully explore Midgard had never presented itself.
They had always ended up stuck here in Asgard, left to follow Thor and his cohorts on their many ventures to the other realms; disregarding the lower realm and the secrets that it could possibly hold.
"And what if I don't want to go?" Loki said, narrowing his eyes.
Frigga smiled a small, knowing smile. "You wish to, and you know it. You cannot refute it. The fact that you have a dæmon where many other Aesir do not was enough to pique your interest aeons ago and it is enough to pique your interest now."
Wrapping an arm around Ásenthilay's side, Loki fought to keep his expression neutral.
Mother had always been so perceptive, and that had not changed in the present.
Frigga stood, placing one hand upon the backrest of the chair - it disappeared as quickly as it had come. "I will leave you to consider your choice on the matter."
With that, she walked out.
"What do you think?" Ásenthilay asked moments later, turning to look at Loki. "Should we go?"
Loki shook his head. "I'm, unsure. True, it has been something that we have deemed intriguing for many years - the dæmons of Midgard, are they different from you? Why do we have such a bond as to cause us such pain when we are too far from one another? Is that the same for them?" He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back against the pillows. "... He would not approve it. He wouldn't want us to go down there, regardless of whether or not Frigga will be the one to suggest it. He is far too stubborn for that."
Ásenthilay remained silent, her ears twitching in contemplation. Back in the past, she would have retorted, told Loki that Father may well agree with Mother but, now, what was the point in that? He had caused them both harm and to her, defending him was worthless. It meant little to her now.
"Besides," he snarled, "I would not want him watching over every action of mine nor yours. Not after what he did."
"Should we care as to whether he approves it or not?" Ásenthilay said. "After all, we could always go down there ourselves. You now have the potential to jump from one world to another without the need of Heimdall, do you not?"
Slowly, a smirk worked its way onto Loki's face. "Yes, I do, and of course we will travel to Midgard for ourselves, when did I say that we would not?"
The portal was open, the wind catching at his hair and Ásenthilay's fur.
Wordlessly, Ásenthilay touched her muzzle to Loki's arm. Wordlessly, he placed a hand upon her back.
Two final actions of hesitation before the jump.
Except, as they stepped through, something felt... wrong. The faintest twinge of a sensation, the faintest flutter of emptiness.
Then it was gone, forgotten.
Lost to them, as the world that they were so used to slipped away in a blur of multi-hues.