A/N: I promise that not all the chapters will be like this, but I have to build things a piece at a time. Olivia will be sizing things up again shortly. Also, I think I'm going to change the publishing schedule a bit. Expect new chapters in the evenings/nights. Happy reading :-)
The days dragged into weeks and I soon found myself falling into a dismal routine. I hadn't spoken to Loki since that evening, nor I did wish to. Still, every few days Rakthon moved, and us with him. We seemed to constantly be on his heels, yet never making any headway with regards to stopping him.
The more time passed, the more irritable and cranky I became. I missed Earth. I missed my cat. I longed to sleep in a bed and eat something besides whatever wild creature lived on the strange planet. To my count, I had eaten no fewer than eight different kinds of goats, six fishes, and an unknown mystery meat I was too afraid to ask about. The reality of my situation wore on me and my desire to return home was stronger than ever before.
Yet on we went. Planet after planet, moon after moon. It was quite evident that Rakthon was attempting to throw us off his trail, in order to finish whatever plan he had started. The weariness began to show on Thor's face. The general disposition continued to dwindle and one night the three of us had an argument, the sound of it loud enough to give away our location, if so desired. "I just want to go home." I whispered that night, noting that I couldn't remember the last time I had a decent night's sleep. My insomnia was constant and my body began to reap the consequences.
It was when Rakthon doubled back and returned to Isigdîr that it happened. My theory was that Rakthon had some kind of an alliance with the frost giants. Not one strong enough to illicit an actual stay on their planet, but enough to stay on their moon. We had been walking all day, the cold biting at my face and hands, gnawing through my clothes and into my skin. The wind picked up and the beginnings of a blizzard began.
To say the clothes S.H.I.E.L.D. had given to me upon our departure were inadequate was an understatement. I had little more than a shirt, a hoodie, and jeans. I was appreciative for their need to put combat boots into my bag, though why they didn't also give me a coat was confusing.
I had gotten about two hours of sleep total that week and everything in my body ached from exhaustion. I was sick of following Rakthon around like a hound, trailing him from one spot to the next. We had been wandering the snowy surface of the moon for days with no sign of him anywhere. The wind and snow continued to increase until I could no longer see in front of me. I had continued to lag further and further behind Thor and Loki each day, gradually finding it more difficult to walk.
My body suddenly stopped moving. When I needed to continue, my mental strength seemed to keep me going. But that time had come to an end. I tried to take a step forward. Nothing happened. The cold seemed to take advantage, biting into my skin through my clothes. I was so very cold and so very tired. What was the point of continuing? I was of no value to them whatsoever. I would likely never see my cat or Earth again. Yes, it was a good day to die.
Knees buckled beneath me and I fell into the snow. I had once seen a documentary on snow mummies and wondered how I would look. My lids grew heavy; keeping them open was a battle. The wind howled around me and I realized I had never given much thought to how I would die. I had been so concerned with avenging Claire's death, that I hadn't imagined mine. A delirious grin spread across my face when I thought about becoming a snowman.
The snow seeped into my cheeks. It was almost a welcome feeling, the cold numbness spreading to the rest of my being. My lids drooped to halfway when I swore I saw feet in front of me. My subconscious didn't want to be alone when I died, so it was projecting a weak image of boots before me. Oh, the capacities of the human mind. I found it rather fitting that I would die cold and alone, Claire had. I closed my eyes and prepared to fade away.
The next moment, my body seemed to float into the sky. How odd that my arms and legs seemed to hang lifelessly. If I was dead, I would think they would at least feel a bit livelier. An intense heat spread to half of my body, causing great confusion. Was I melting? No, I was dead. I had to be. A strange drumming noise reverberated around my consciousness. It wasn't quite music, yet it had a definite rhythm. Strange. I could feel a faint rocking motion. Side to side. Side to side. Side to side. The drumming, the heat, and the rocking seemed to coalesce into an experience that was all together wonderful. I was about to let go of the strings of life that held me. This wasn't so terrible at all. But a voice, barely audible above the drumming and the howling, stopped me. "Not yet. Please, Olivia, not yet."
It knew my name. The voice knew my name. My thoughts were jumbled, part of me thinking myself in a mind-created dream to make death more pleasant, the other imagining it was all very real. I wanted to stop thinking at all, to merely float in this strange world but found it impossible.
The drumming continued, seeming to grow louder, while the howling quieted to a whistle. I heard crunching beneath me but didn't comprehend. Reason and logical thinking gave way to delusion. I was, however, completely aware of the sky lowering me. But I didn't want to go back to the earth! I wanted to stay in the sky! The heat and the pleasant drumming stopped as well, leaving me to feel how very alone I was. I didn't want to die alone, not really. Fear rose to the surface and I longed to find the drums again.
A laughing whirr sounded beside me, heat fighting the numbness I had felt. My skin seemed to erupt with pain and I screamed. No sound emerged, however, and I was left to burn alone. It was then that I felt lifted once more, only for a moment. Something heavy wrapped around me, the warmth from it aiding the heat's battle against the cold. The burning slowly began to cease and I knew the ice was losing the war.
Faint pressure appeared on my chest and then dissipated. A faint, hollow sound seemed to emerge from inside me. What was it? It was so very peculiar. It grew ever louder in volume the warmer I became. Dim realization occurred that it was my breath. I hadn't died after all. I wasn't sure how I felt about that.
Curiosity began to pique in my delirium. Such strange thoughts ran rampant about my mind, sparking and fading in an instant. If I was at the circus, I wanted to see the whales...
My lids fluttered open, my eyes saw yet another cave but to my deluded mind it was a forest of stone. A forest with burning fairies that danced on rocks. How beautiful they were. Consciousness stirred at the back of my mind, but I was too intent to stay in my fantasy. Logically, I knew the fairies were flames, I was in a cave, my body had been covered in a coat, someone had saved me. But not to my deluded state of reality. In that moment, the fairies danced on the stones in the mighty, stone forest. I was draped with the night sky and across from me sat the king of the forest.
He was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen, his skin seeming to glow in the light of the fairies. I had the strangest feeling I knew him but I couldn't remember his name. Where had we met? I cooed and tried to stretch my arms towards him, but found the night didn't want me to. He glanced up at me, his ocean orbs reflecting relief. Mmm, the ocean orbs. I wanted to walk in them. No, that wasn't right. Orbs and walking weren't right. Still, who cared? I began to fuss at my inability to reach him. Sobs erupted from my throat. Why was he so far away?
Then, he stood, seeming to fill the forest as he did. The fairies shrank at his approach and I cooed once more, my impatience apparent. At last, he stopped in front of me and I felt a sudden rush of delight. "Your forest is beautiful." I murmured happily.
A strange expression spread across his face, his brows knit together in concern. When he spoke, it was like blue velvet. "Get some rest, darling."
Why hadn't he heard me? Again, I repeated, "Your forest is beautiful. I don't want to go back, please don't make me."
He paused, weighing my words. Then, to my joy, he sat down beside me, one hand brushing a curly sea of copper from my face. "You won't have to."
I felt a smile pull on my lips. He was so beautiful. I wanted to touch him more than anything else and once more I tried to reach for him, my lower lip jutting out into a pout when I couldn't. "The night won't let me touch you." I complained, tears spewing from my eyes. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I knew I was speaking nonsense, that I sounded like a confused child. The fact remained, however, that it made perfect sense in my dream world.
"The night won't let you touch me?" He repeated, concern in his tone, a thick vertical crease carved into the skin between his eyebrows.
"No. And I really want to." His hand stretched to my forehead and that same warmth I had felt, what seemed to be hours ago, returned. "Please, Your Highness, I want to hear the drums again."
The crease remained set in place, his lips turning into a deep set frown at the corners. "Who am I to you?"
"Don't be silly." I giggled. "You're the king of the stone forest and the fairies dance for you. But I want to touch you and hear the drums again. The drums are so lovely..." I trailed off into a stream of indiscernible gibberish.
Gently, he wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled me to him, an incredible glee sending me into a fit of eerie giggles. "I want to hear the drums. Just one more time before I leave the forest and go back to the emptiness. Don't tell anyone." I whispered conspiratorially.
"I thought you didn't want to leave the forest?" Alarm was in the king's voice and I frowned.
"I don't want to. But I'm so tired." I tried to crane my head backwards to see him, but I couldn't. It made me irrationally distraught. "Nobody loves me anyway. I should go back to the dark and fade. It's what everyone wants."
"That isn't true." He wrapped his arms around me and I sighed with content. The king didn't know anything about me. It was all my fault that no one loved me. The fairies continued their joyful dance on the stones and I felt tears spring to my eyes.
"But it is. Nobody loves me because no one wants me. It's okay, I know why."
"Why is that?"
"Because it's my fault." He was so warm and his voice was so lovely, I began to sink my head into him, the desire to be as close to him as possible overriding everything else.
"What is?"
"Please, Your Majesty, I don't want to talk about it. Everyone blames me and they're right."
"I don't."
"That's because you don't know me." I whimpered. My head rolled to the side and a faint drumming returned to my ears.
"I'd like to."
"The drums! I love the drums!" I tried to lean in closer but the king stopped me, his ocean orbs boring into me.
"If I let you hear the drums, will you promise to stay in the forest? With me and the fairies?"
I wanted nothing else more badly. Still, I didn't understand why he wanted me to stay. I was dirty and nasty, unclean. "You really want me to?"
"Yes, I do. Do you promise?"
I considered his offer and decided I didn't want to go in the dark if the king wanted me to stay. "I promise. Can I hear them now?" He held me tighter and my head rested comfortably against his chest. The drumming returned, clearer than ever before. I listened to their steady rhythm, watching the fairies dance before me. Exhaustion washed over me and I allowed my eyes to close, snuggling in closer against him and savoring the feeling of it before falling asleep.
