A/N: A little accompaniment to the other chapter I posted today, as an apology for time between updates being so long. I was waiting for the right time to put this into the story so here you go. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel but it owns me.


Incomplete

This is a prison, their smiles and words came out wrong, or he heard them wrong. That could be the case as he knew the mind the Chitauri left him with was bereft with insanity most of the time.

Escape from them was his only solace, or the very idea of it. Loki knew once he had removed hiself from their warm presence, he would be attacked by memories that had been tampered with.

Or he hoped they were for the past he had lived couldn't be one so painful. even doubting himself was a ripple effect from what The Other had intended. My doubt only plays into his hands.

Loki's hesitance was a curse so instead, he said the only thing he was sure of in that moment, that the steely gaze Sigyn blessed him with looked wrong. It did not suite her to be his caretaker.

That he was sure of. "Being domestic never suited you, Sigyn." She used to have blood on her lips, flashes of her in battle bombarded him like enemy fire when those images were anything but threatening. "Be wary not to linger on Midgard for long, keep in mind there are others who require your presence." Your husband, for one. He shot up from his stool, feeling the sweet tendrils of breathable air where none other occupied it. The roof, perhaps.

Still memories flashed in his vision, the disembodied voice he knew as his own saying, "You know where to find me, brother."

Escaping into the elevator brought a barrage of other noise, the voice of JARVIS, "Miss Potts is in the penthouse if you wish for company."

"I will be on the roof if she wishes to speak with me." Loki closed his eyes for the doors were not swift enough for his liking, and Sigyn's unbloodied face only haunted him.

She looked too worn to be herself, not suited to standing around and waiting for him to get better when he knew, among these metallic tasting memories, she was nothing of the sort.

She was fierce but no longer raw with it…how he wished her to have remained.

Yet I owe her my life however corrupt it has become.


Many years before...

Sigyn picked up a branch as short and thin as her arm, whacking it against tree trunks as she ran. The sky had begun to darken with the suns descent, but it had left the soil of the fields comfortably warm. Sigyn let her bare feet soak up the warmth, feeling it as clear as an animal's involuntary cry in the distance. It stopped her heart and the breeze, rustling of grass and branches just an echo in the distance.

The wind carried the cry in short bursts.

Yet she knew of no animal that could make such desperate a call. It was muffled like smoke in a pit with enough terror to make Sigyn take a few steps back into the cover of the treeline. Another painful moan and Sigyn scooted further into the growing forest shadows.

"Hello?" Nothing on the horizon looked threatening, no gigantic beast that she could see from her place among the brush which grew no shorter than her head.

She knew the time to be scared was not then. It is a small dog, and so while she chastised herself for thinking an animal could speak, Sigyn crept along the treeline closer to where she'd heard it cry.

The elders always educated that animals could tell your intentions from your tone, so trying to be as soothing as possible; Sigyn called out, "I won't hurt you, whatever you are. Keep making noise."

It would be dark soon, and the woods would be black with shadow no moonlight could penetrate when the sun went away. Sigyn kept the stick in her hand, ever fearful of vagrants roaming the woods as they were want to do sometimes. She knew she was only young and small, and if it came to it would scamper into the trees at the first sign of trouble. Unlike many in her village, she would not resort to standing her ground and fighting, for she was no fool to think she could take on anyone.

Unless it was another young child, like the one she suddenly realized had been making such awful noises. She first saw his silhouette against the large oak tree, hands tied with cord and something hanging into his face from the uppermost branches. She could smell acidity in the air, almost citrus but with a burning sting to it.

Whatever hung in the boy's face hissed madly and spit at him to produce another low howl from him.

Sigyn picked up the stick she had dropped in her jolt of shock. The boy had not seen her yet, and she saw with the last fading rays of sunlight he could not see through the white veins clouding his vision and his lack of pupils.

The snake was attempting to burn the boy's eyes out with venom. That was enough to put a knot in her chest, but the injury responsible for rendering Sigyn speechless was the erratically woven thread holding his mouth shut.

Without thinking on her actions and still prone to childish impulse, Sigyn charged at the large serpent and whacked it out of the tree with a stick, "Take that, vile thing!" With the butt end of her makeshift weapon stuck its head into the ground. The bile rose up her throat at the sickening squish it made like stepping into a puddle after a rain.

Sigyn fell back after losing her balance, and the stick stayed upright in the soil, having pinned and killed the creature.

The boy was frozen in shock, then wiggling with renewed fear that there was another who could mean him harm. "Hold on!" Sigyn scrambled towards the back of the tree and untied the cord, releasing the boy like a spring shot from a net once the tension was let.

Sigyn peered from around the large round trunk. "Can you hear me?"

The boy inclined his head, peering over his shoulder with unseeing eyes that still sizzled with burns and poisonous white marks. There was crusted blood around his mouth, and he had put a hand to it.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Can-"

His clothes, they had been concealed by the thick ropes before, but now she saw how he was dressed. Fine, thick autumn clothes suited to a prince, gold hem on the green tunic and dark pants along with the cloak, still dirty but not enough to shield the design on its back…

"Oh, no... how did you get so far from Asgard?" She realized her stupidity with his attempt at a withering look in her general direction, his gaze missing her by a few feet, and her eyes looking on his mouth. She went to him, crouched, and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. With his finger, he was writing something in the dirt. To her, it was just lines, and then her mind caught up with what he was trying to do.

"I can't read."

He acknowledged her with a nod, and pointed to his lips.

"Want me to try and get that out?"

His nod was quick.

When she first touched the skin near his mouth, he was startled. she paused to wait for him to get accustomed to her cool skin and then proceeded to do the best she could pulling the thread through his lips and out. They bled anew, and with it came clear fluid and saliva. She cared not for the cleanliness for her hands but kept her eyes open for someone to help- or those who had done this to a little boy.

She went slow and after a few minutes had removed all of the thread. The small hide flask on her hip had little water but she offered it anyway, "I have some water." Before she could put it in his shaking hand, he moaned in pain as the threads appeared again, by magic.


Her voice was soft as a whisper, but Loki knew his senses may have been damaged by the poison which had eroded his vision and ability not to treat every sound as potential danger. Except even as she had shouted from across the glen at the serpent, it brought something more than alarm that another stranger was near.

Something about her presence struck a familiar note with Loki, his instincts, which he was taught to always trust, spoke well of this honeyed voiced girl. He assumed she had finished the snake because her breathing was rapid and her words quick. Was she injured? Apparently not. She had undone his bindings and he shot forward with the tension he had created in trying to escape, before catching his own breath.

She spoke still, and as if through fog her words walked closer to invade his mind.

He could smell her, a mixed fragrance of crushed leaves and oils. He felt her hand on him and flinched, not realizing that to take away his ability to speak and see had also made him anxious to any contact.

The girl knew better, obviously, for she withdrew her hand. Her breathing had slowed, and to dull the pain he matched his to her rhythm.

She had asked him a question, but he couldn't remember what it had been, her words still hung in his head mixed and confusing.

He needed to know her name. He began writing his name in the dirt as best he could when his hopes of communication were forfeit. "I can't read."

She sounded as desolate as he felt.

Well then he hoped she could at least take simple direction. He pointed to his mouth, painfully sewn closed and even the slightest twinge wreaked havoc on his nerves.

"Want me to try and get that out?"

He nodded, No, by all means leave it in. He was pleased he could not cut her down with words just then, for he truly needed help and was not fool enough to act like his prideful brother and decline assistance.

The girl was smart, and those thoughts entangled him as she attempted to remove the strings. She had observed him and concluded he was from Asgard by the clothes he wore. She was brave, or stupid, to have attacked such a giant creature. Before it poisoned his vision and mind, he had gotten a glimpse of the giant snake, more of a beast really.

She had courage, and for a girl was not squirmy around injuries. Loki could only imagine the state his mouth was in. He could feel the blood dripping down his chin and feel the burn on his face from the poison.

He must look a wreck.

"I have some water," She announced after he felt the last tug of thread at the corner of his mouth.

Before he felt the flask in his hand his world tore open as his mouth was sewn shut again. It was dull compared to the first time they'd done it; Loki's spirits were drowned more than his physical situation because this meant he wouldn't be able to talk until he got home.

How to communicate he was a prince of Asgard if the girl couldn't read?

She is all I have at the moment; he had no choice except to trust her.


None of that he could see in her now. She returned completed.

Loki had aged with Thor and experienced much of the same, molding them into opposites but they still shared most of their memories, choices, dislikes.

Sigyn had left their company too early, and had come back whole enough it was hard for Loki to glimpse something recognizable. Perhaps he couldn't only because he had been torn into too many pieces.

This is for the best, or else he would dissect her every word, every movement as he did Thor's, no mystery to be left behind.

I can only return the favour. She cannot stay here. Loki had made up his mind, she must return to Alfheim for her own protection.


A/N: First Thor wanted Sigyn to stay on Alfheim for her own protection, and now Loki. Sigyn can protect herself as you'll see next Friday.

G