Well, on we go then. Here is the next chapter. I hope it pleases the audience.
Leif wiggled impatiently in his mother's arms, gurgling almost inaudibly. Darcy looked at him lovingly as he nestled his head in her furs, "Are you trying to talk, love?" Little Leif made another sound and grabbed at her clothes, tiny fingers twining in the coat. "You can't be cold. Surely." Darcy whispered. She had wrapped him in a fur of his own and had even adopted her blue skinned form, thus influencing him to do so too. Hugging him just a bit closer she walked down the halls, slightly wondering where the light came from. This realm didn't have a sun in the classical sense of the word, but it did have other astres.
A maid, Lottelise, walked behind them, not daring to approach her mistress, no doubt a little bit frightened. Darcy had tried to engage the gangly girl in a conversation but her replies had been short and shaky. Clearly nobody had showed the poor thing any kindness; she would change that. The tall girl walked heavily behind her and Darcy had half a mind to tell her to relax. After a few moments of debate she decided not to. The girl would probably bolt if she spoke to her so suddenly. Darcy smiled at the though and took a look at Leif once more.
Despite her somewhat scratchy sense of orientation, she managed to reach the bifurcation she had passed through with Loki when they had first arrived. "Okay. Now we have two choices Leif. Number one: we go outside and make good on our word, or we could go exploring." The second road was unlit but Darcy had no doubt the girl trailing after them could provide some light. "Well, what will it be?" She rocked him lightly and Leif's eyes travelled to the darkened corridor. "That's my boy; a little adventure never hurt anyone." Only it did, more often than Darcy cared to think about. "Lottelise, light the way." she told the maid.
Scurrying before her mistress with a globe of light in hand, the maid led them into the darkness. Darcy blinked and tried to look at the walls decorated with what seemed like inscriptions. "Stop. I want to take a closer look. Bring the light a little bit closer, please, and hold Leif for me."
Wordlessly Lottelise did as she was told, confused by the informal speech pattern her mistress used. She took the prince into her own arms and hummed softly.
Meanwhile Darcy avidly took in the sight before her. The wall depicted, from what she could understand, a detailed history of the Frost Giants. They used early drawings, much like stick figures and such, to propel whoever was looking into a distant past. Darcy concluded that it must be very old because she had seen portions along the other corridor where an alphabet had been used. "This is fantastic." That meant they were hardly the uncivilized barbarians the Æsir painted them out as. They had a long history, no doubt stretching over the expanse of the walls. They had a language and apparently they even had an alphabet as the one she had seen was indisputably different from what she had seen in Asgard.
"Come on, let's move along." Darcy said, taking Leif back into her own arms. Maybe she would persuade Loki to come here with her someday and see if he knew how to translate the information for her. Turning her head back after a few moments, Darcy noticed she could no longer see the entrance light. A chill crept along her spine, but she brushed it away. "Stop imagining things, Darcy," she murmured to herself. She was in no danger, or so she tried to convince that little faithless part stirring havoc in her mind and soul.
Having been lost in her thoughts Darcy did not notice a slightly protrude rock on the floor and it was her downfall. With a scream of surprise she started falling, mind in a panic. Lottelise turned around quick enough to save her from getting intimately acquainted with the ground.
"Are you alright, my Lady?" the maid asked breathlessly.
"Yes, yes. Don't worry about clumsy ol' me." Darcy offered, her arms holding tightly onto Leif who had started sniffling. "Don't cry, baby, it's alright. Mom is just being all fingers and thumbs and worrying you. Sorry Leif, don't cry."
Lottelise tried shushing the baby but to no avail. How could she succeed in what even his mother hadn't been able to do? "I think we should head back, my Lady."
"Perhaps you're right. Let us go then." Darcy acquiesced. After all, she would be able to come here with Loki whenever she wanted to. "Come Lottelise, light the way."
"Yes, my Lady." the maid dutifully obeyed, turning around and stepping in front of Darcy. "Follow me, my Lady."
Calming her erratic heart Darcy started walking. There was no pint in lingering here when she was unsure of the safety of this passage. Maybe she should have brought some guards along too. Maybe it had been stupid of her to leave just like that. Would Loki worry? She hoped not as he had the uncanny ability of always knowing where she was. If she ever got lost she could count of her husband to find her. Decidedly happier she regained her somewhat uneven breath. All would be fine, she reasoned with a shaky smile.
They had been walking for sometime yet the entrance was nowhere in sight. Strange, she was sure she hadn't gone that far in the tunnel. That strange chill crept along her spine again and Darcy could feel her hair rise. What was going on here? Something was clearly amiss, she could feel it. Her mother had always said she should trust her instinct and it had worked up until now. Had she been misled? "Lottelise, does it not seem strange to you that we have been walking for so long?"
"No, my Lady, I'm sure I don't know what you mean.
Yet the girl's voice was eerily unsettling and Darcy could feel the baby trembling in her arms. Leif didn't even whimper.
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The customary chill so readily met in any room of the frozen realm was at home in the King's private study. Somewhere in the back a fire burned, more for light than anything else and a harsh wind passed through the windows which depicted battles and important persons of their world. Most were rulers of the past; to Loki's knowledge seldom did they paint the mothers of the realm although they were at times far more influential and important.
Along the walls rows and columns of books rested, filling the room with the scent of old paper and ink. Not for the first time, the King felt tempted to caress their spines and let his eyes rove over their writing packed pages. Words were born out of the highest form of magic, and they held such power it made one unsteady. That knowledge they had trapped within them was more than power, it was control.
Between broad columns a few painting were hung on the walls. The only one Loki recognized was that of Laufey and the one he thought was Farbauti. Both exuded such pride and authority that their son was almost moved. His father stood tall next to his queen, eyes shining brightly. As for Farbauti, she was somewhat shorter than her husband yet she imposed a certain sway of those near her. When alive, she must have been a sight to behold.
Farbauti was not pretty, not in the way many women of Odin's halls were, she was another kind of beautiful. Supple and tall, she would not have been called a classic beauty, yet in her wild and raw appearance she was truer than the Æsir females. Black hair, upturned at its ends, framed an oval face with thin lips, big scarlet eyes and longs lashes, completed by a straight nose. The artist had been very careful in his work; the details swam before Loki's eyes and he wished, almost instinctually, that he had met the person who gave life to him and then gave her own life for him. Angrboða tale had not been lost on him.
Strangely he was reminded of Darcy in a way. His own wife was an unconventional sort of beauty, an unpolished diamond all of his own. With proper care and investment she would be a great Queen one day. Long after their end, long after their bones turned to dust, because it would inevitably come, bards would play their songs about the Midgardian Queen of Jötunheim. They would sing about the woman who brought a god to his knees only to push him higher than he had ever dreamed of being.
Turning around, his eyes fell on the guest waiting for him. Instead of going ahead, Loki took one more look around the room and took a long time to stare at the wooden table which was his own, feathers and documents spread upon it. There would be time enough to see what was going on. Perhaps he would also gain some valuable knowledge from what would follow. Indeed, that would be the best he could hope for from his still uncertain subjects.
Loki surveyed the aged healer before him. Calm crimson eyes looked upon the King from under thick eyebrows. The way those eyes stared through him make Loki somewhat cautious. The one before him had also served under his father, like most of the old ones. For a brief moment Loki felt his heart shudder. What did they think of him? His own blood orbs stared the old Giant down. "Speak." he commanded simply and sat on the chair behind his desk while indicating that the visitor should also have a seat. "What brings you here?"
The healer's stony face, previously turned floor-wards, raised a millimetre. "Your Highness," he began in a guttural voice, head rising even higher, "my apprentice has recently tended to a wounded one of our own. As you well know, upon the soldier my pupil has found this. We thought it of utmost importance that it reaches you, Your Highness."
Two sets of red eyes clashed in a silent battle of wills. "And you know what this is?" Loki asked, toying a silver cylinder, finger tracing the runes inscribed in it. His eyes momentarily glanced at it.
"I do, You Highness. 'Tis a message." the elder replied as he stroked his long grey beard. "Whatever it contains, that soldier was ready to give his life for it, and I reckon it must be important."
With impatience Loki got up and started pacing the room. "If it is as important as you say, then we should open it; see what lies beyond this seal." He clutched the tube while looking at the healer. "Are you certain that he was one of ours?"
"I have no doubt, truly, Your Highness." was the answer he received for his question. "I have known the lad to be as brave and as loyal as any other." Dark eyebrows smothered the ruby pools once more and the healer's mouth became a thin icy line against his face.
Slowly, Loki opened the cap and pulled out a piece of paper. His eyes scanned its contents. As a young boy Loki had taught himself many dialects spoken through the galaxy, among which he had also taken up the language of the Frost Realm. Little had he known that it would serve him this well. Symbols became letters in his mind's eyes and then transformed into words that whispered against his ear, things only for him to know. Red eyes burned as he continued to make out what was written black on white and cobalt tinted fingers dug through the paper.
"Master Healer," Loki proceeded to speak, for the first time using the elder's title, "may I trust you with something requiring the most delicate of cares?"
The news in his hands was not good, although not particularly disastrous either. It would give him a chance to really see what his people amounted to. Of course, he had to hide a secret smile from the healer. Trust was not so easily gained or given, yet Loki was ready to place a small amount of it upon this stranger's shoulders.
"You honour me, Your Highness. Of what use may I be?" his subject asked, blood bathed eyes cutting through the master of the realm.
"I shall tell you something. But it will not leave this room. Do you understand me, Master Healer? If it does, I know it would have been you to tell and it will be your head." Loki warned, a bit of amusement shining in his own scarlet eyes,
"I would never dream of it, Your highness." the Master Healer assured him with practiced words. He was no fool and Loki knew the old one had caught on. "You have my word."
"Then come forth Master Healer, and lent your ear to me." the God of Mischief.
"Your Highness, your humble servant will do the best in his power to please you." He went forwards, close to Loki and leaned in.
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Hel brushed her skeletal fingers against her brother's fur. Fenrir rumbled happily at his sister's attention while sharpening his teeth on an impressive bone he had picket from somewhere. Their serpent sibling was nowhere in sight. The two sat in comfortable silence, neither wanting to do anything at the moment.
Angrboða had long since gone out to see to the troops. After the war she had taken to training with swords and a variety of knives. Hel had been taught too but since she never openly showed ant pleasure at it, Angrboða just left the girl with her spells and curses. The darkly clad creation of Loki was far more comfortable with casting a deadly curse. Fenrir and Jörmungand had always preferred a direct, bloodier approach. They simply tore through their enemies before indulging in a few bites. Angrboða despaired at the two ever truly understanding the art of war. They were not interested to.
And speaking of war, it had been quiet these days. Too quiet. With the exception of that wounded soldier coming in a few hours ago, nothing had happened. Hel had briefly visited his mind but found nothing of what she looked for. He was a simple soldier who knew nothing of any conflict waiting to take place.
Fenrir's head shot up and his ears perked much like a dog's. Hel snickered under her breath' it never ceased to amuse her. But her humorous mood was washed away at his growl of warning. Something was not as it should be, it seemed. Merging her mind with that of her brother, Hel sought to see through his eyes and feel everything through him.
The familiar scent of Loki's blood filled both. But it was faint so the endangered one could not be their creator. It would have to be the Queen or the young Prince. Fenrir roared at something and Hel jumped up. If anything were to happen to them Loki would have their heads. She started casting a location spell, her mind expanding all over the premises. However, just when she thought she had found them, something blocked her. It was like a stone wall between her and those she sought. Tentatively she pushed against the barrier but it shoved right back with doubled power.
Burning eyes opened. "Something is preventing me from finding them, Fenrir." What could possibly have the power of rejecting her magic? "Do you think that they are truly in danger, brother?" she asked softly, eyes searching the darkness.
Her only reply was a low growl that most would run away at. Fenrir's fur started rising as he crouched in a defensive position. Hel felt it too right then, something cold wormed its way into her, colder than anything she had ever known.
"We must go, brother. The King must be warned of this. But first, let us find those in need of our help." Hel whispered in Fenrir's ear as he calmed. "The Queen had need of us now. Let us go. Quick now"
Rising both her hands, Hel called out a strange incantation. Fenrir closed his eyes against the unpleasant feeling that particular spell had always caused. He felt himself being ripped apart and put back together; inwardly he commended his sister for her prowess, but still snarled at her when it was over.
"Calm yourself." she chastised with lopsided smirk. "It is over."
They were surrounded by a thick darkness, unlike the one in the rooms they shared. That was a calming darkness; this one shrouded them and went right through their souls. Nothingness sounded them cold and inescapable.
A small light flickered in Hel's hand and Fenrir grabbed the sleeve of her dress between sharp, pointy fangs, signalling that she should keep close to him. Ignoring the unsettling feeling that gripped them they steeped further into oblivion. They didn't get to walk very far when something stopped them. Right in front of the two a tall wide wall stretched over the length of the darkness.
"She must be behind this wall, Fenrir. Can you feel her?"
The furry head of her brother collided with the wall as she tried to walk through it. It was clear that he could indeed feel their mistress. His strong paws and pointy claws attached the wall that would not let them advance. Fenrir growled and snarled, pushing and scratching to no avail. Not even a mark marred the wall.
"Well then," Hel began, "let me try." She murmured a chant and blasted a destructive curse. It hit the wall loudly and smoke flew through the dark. As it slowly dissipated, it became clear that the wall had not been affected. It stood as high and solid as ever in front of them. "I'm afraid we cannot do this on our own. We should call upon Jörmungand." Fenrir growled in half-agreement. Hel set to do her task. She relaxed, letting her mind find the serpent of the family.
Moments later a basilisk like creature materialized in their midst. Fenrir growled at the newcomer and Hel patted her brother's scales with affection. "Welcome brother." Creeping behind him the wolf embedded its sharp teeth in the basilisk's tail. The snake hissed and coiled his body at the same time throwing his sibling away. Both brothers were obviously unhappy to be in such close proximity to one another.
"Enough with your childish play," Hel interrupted Fenrir's next attach and the fight that would have been born of it. "We have more important things to take care of." She waited for them to get closer to the wall before turning to Jörmungand. "We have to breech this wall. Can you think of anything? Fenrir and I, we have tried all we know."
Sliding over until he was touching the wall, Jörmungand's split tongue glided over it. His hiss told the others what they already suspected. Ancient magic was involved; the kind they had no access to, the kind too powerful for them to control. The King would have to be told.
"I was hoping we could avoid this," Hel confided in her brothers. It was well known among them that Loki was not too quick to forgive mistakes. "We should hurry, the more time they spend there, the less easier it will be to get them out.
Yes, I know, no harming the main characters beyond repair. I'll try. So, how do we feel abut this chapter?
