The Memory Casket

Chapter 14: Eir

Morning came. Day fifty-one. Kendrith rose. He took a fresh shirt from his bag – he refused to unpack and put them away – and a pair of Loki's pants. His own pants – he'd only managed to throw one pair in the bag – had been picked up yesterday evening to be laundered, and he'd been told they would be returned today. The leather pants may not have been something he would have chosen on Alfheim, but his only complaint about them now was that they were Loki's. They were very comfortable and fit well…of course that was because they were Loki's.

He took the clean clothes back to his little hidden bathroom, showered, changed, tried his best to steel himself for his fourth day of imprisonment. Sitting anxiously on his bed, he waited for breakfast to be delivered. When it arrived, he took the tray from the ledge and set it on the small round table, then settled into the chair to eat in full view of every guard who walked past and the three other prisoners whose locations permitted it. He had learned to angle the chair so that his back was to the other prisoners, at least. The guards could still see him when they went along the side of his corner cell.

There was nothing to distinguish this day from the previous except that he no longer expected the queen to show up and try to insinuate herself into his life. But then she did.

"Good morning," she said from behind him, startling him. He'd finished eating, managing to eat about half of his breakfast today, but hadn't moved from his chair.

He slowly pushed his chair back, stood, turned, and bowed. "Good morning."

"May I visit you today?"

Kendrith remained silent for a long time, his heart hammering in his chest. "Do you come to tell me I'm free?"

She looked down toward the floor for a moment, and he knew the answer before she answered in the negative. "Your father and his advisors are meeting again this afternoon. They find it difficult to trust you."

"I see." Thor had told him the same last night. Then he had an idea. "Perhaps they don't trust me because they don't know me. Perhaps I could speak to them."

"I don't think that would help. But I'll tell Odin that you offered."

"What do you think he'll decide? Why is it taking so long?"

"I haven't attended the assemblies. I don't know. I don't like hearing you discussed like that."

"Like what?"

"Like…like a criminal. Instead of like my son."

"If it were your choice, what would you decide?"

Her eyes fixed on his so firmly it was almost a physical grip, and he felt like he could not look away if he wanted to. But she didn't answer. And that was answer enough.

"Well, I suppose there's no point in my asking for your consideration with a helpful word in the king's ear."

"Loki, I-"

"Please go."

"Please try-"

"Please go," he said in a raised voice that he hoped fell shy of a shout. He was becoming emotional, and he wasn't very good at controlling it when that happened.

"All right," she said as soon as he spoke. "But Loki…I just…I love you. I'm going," she added hurriedly when he opened his mouth to shout. "I'm going…I'm going," she repeated as she rushed down the corridor and out of view.

Kendrith stood there trembling, alone. He couldn't stand being in her presence, but he needed her. He knew this. He needed her. Why can't you ever say the right thing? Why can't you just convince her? All you do is make her hate you! He began to laugh, softly at first, then growing into something loud and disturbing, even to him. Threk was staring at him, and Kendrith didn't know how exactly Threk had desecrated bodies, but he'd begun to imagine that he'd eaten them. He'd begun to imagine that Threk wanted to eat him.

"Stop staring at me!" he screamed at his neighbor.

Threk's lips twisted into a smile; he nodded. He still stared.

Kendrith grabbed the tray with its half-eaten plate of food and empty glass and tossed it against the glass wall. The glass shimmered but remained fully solid. He grabbed the lid to the tray and threw it even harder. He grabbed the chair and threw it. He grabbed the little table by a leg and slammed it again and again into the glass, reveling in the reverberations that shot up his arms and into his shoulders and back. He quickly dropped it when a guard appeared in front of him. He looked down at the mess his breakfast had made, then at his hands, which were shaking uncontrollably. He realized they had gone numb.

"I said, what do you think you're doing? I hope you don't think I'm going in there to clean that up."

Kendrith looked up again. He hadn't heard the guard speak before. He looked back at his trembling hands. He had to do better. He wouldn't survive in here. "The queen," he said in a shaky voice.

"She just left."

"I know. I…I spoke poorly. Please will you ask her back?"

The guard let out a heavy breath, presumably to let him know how he felt about this request, but apparently he was still considered the queen's son, a prince even, perhaps, and the guard turned to go.

"No, wait!"

The guard froze, his back still to Kendrith's cell.

"I…I can't. I can't see her. Will you just…will you perhaps…perhaps you could apologize-"

The guard came back to stand before him and his face was red with anger. "Be warned. If you do this again, I will not come when you call. You are in a cell. This is a prison. You are a prisoner. I make sure you don't hurt yourself. I bring you your meals and take away your trays and your dirty laundry, and I return your clean clothing. I make sure you don't escape. Again. That is all. I'm not your messenger boy. I'm not your servant. Those men you sent to the Healing Room? They were my friends. Rindall still can't return to work. Do you know what I'll do for you? I'll get you a bucket and a mop."

Kendrith listened, growing more upset again with every word, and nearly losing it at the end. "I'm sorry. I swear I'm sorry. I don't remember it. Did they tell you? Did they tell you I don't have any memories?"

"Do you think I care?"

Kendrith stumbled backward, deeper into the cell. The guard hated him. Hated him enough to kill him, probably, if he thought he could get away with it. And there was Threk, partially visible to the left of the guard, staring, licking his lips now. Or was he? Kendrith screwed his eyes shut and wondered if he'd imagined it. His chest was hurting; his hands, now tingling, pressed against it. He was sucking in air as though there weren't enough of it in the cell. The walls were pressing in on him. His eyes began to dart around the room, searching desperately for a door that wasn't there.

"Do you need a healer?"

The voice sounded like a whisper, slipping into his ear and wriggling around in his head.

"Do you need a healer?!"

Kendrith looked up. The guard's face was still red, still angry. Kendrith was afraid of him and took a few further steps back. "I…a healer…yes. Yes, please, I need a healer. Please."

The guard shot him a frown that screamed murder then turned and walked away.

Kendrith dug his fingernails into his palms and disappeared into the bathroom.

/

/

Eir hurried through the labyrinth of corridors and stairways leading to the area where Loki was kept. Prisoners were brought here blindfolded, with the way made deliberately difficult so that in the rare case of prisoner escape from this lowest level, simply getting from cell to open ground was no simple task.

She had been planning on visiting Loki today anyway, to resume her weekly examinations. The message that Loki had thrown a fit and then gone into some kind of hysterical state had simply moved the appointment up on her schedule, and quickened the steps of her approach to a near run. She reached the deepest level of the prison and waited outside Loki's cell only as long as it took for the guards to open it to her. It was empty, and Loki had no ability to use magic in here, which meant he was in the bathing chamber. She looked down and realized she was standing in scrambled eggs and some kind of red jam.

"He was acting crazy," the guard said, making Eir jump. She hadn't realized he'd followed her in.

"I'll see what's wrong. You may wait outside."

"With respect, he could be dangerous."

"With respect, I'm not worried. I can also be dangerous, if I need to be. Wait outside. And seal us off. I want privacy."

The guard hesitated only a moment longer, then left, and the glass darkened a moment later. Eir was a woman of no more than average physical strength, healthy but not young, most often clad in simple beige robes that made her appear almost fragile. But she had been First Healer of Asgard for as long as most could remember, and no one who knew her would call her fragile.

"Loki, when you're ready, please come on out. The guard said you asked for a healer, and I've come." She knew he didn't remember her, not from before a few days ago, anyway, from what the queen had told her, and from the assemblies when the king and the prince had spoken, and she herself had testified that she was 100% positive that the prisoner was Loki Odinson – physically, at least.

Loki stepped quietly through the wall, staring at his feet; Eir was certain he was embarrassed about the outburst he'd had earlier. Then he looked, and the embarrassment gave way to nervousness.

"You recognize me? From when you first arrived here?"

He nodded quickly. "You fixed my ribs. I'm sorry I was rude. I was just…I guess I was scared."

"I don't doubt it. We didn't realize then that you didn't remember us. It must have all been quite a shock. And I'm sorry I made you sleep. It was the safest way I knew to quickly stop you."

"Sleep? What…what are you talking about?"

"When you were choking Prince Thor with your chain. I forced you to fall asleep. It didn't hurt you…but still, I dislike doing such things. It doesn't exactly fall under the rubric of healing."

"Protecting is not so different from healing. I'm glad you did it. I didn't mean to…to do what I did. Sometimes I do things like that. No, I mean, not…not like that. Just…without thinking first. Anyway, I'm glad you told me. I couldn't figure out why my sense of time was so off that first day here. They brought breakfast but I thought I must have slept all morning and it should be lunch time."

"Ah. Yes, you only slept for about an hour. And now that that's settled…can you tell me what's wrong? What caused all this?" She waved a hand out toward the mess at the front of the cell.

Loki's eyes followed where her hand pointed, but Eir kept her eyes on him, and saw the signs of panic beginning in him.

"I don't know…I just need…I need what Pardit gave me. Tinna compound extract, I think that's what she called it. In a small metal container. I drink it. Please, can-"

"I don't stock that, Prince Loki, I'm sorry."

Kendrith squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head back and forth. "Don't call me that! It's not my name."

"All right," Eir agreed readily. He appeared to be on the verge of a panic attack, and now was not the time to get into a disagreement over his name. Besides, he was still her prince, and she supposed she could address him however he wished. "What would you like me to call you?"

"Kendrith. My name is Kendrith," he said, panting for air.

"All right, Kendrith. Let me explain. I'm familiar with Tinna extract. But I don't approve of its use. It makes those who ingest it pliable, open to suggestion. It's too easily abused. How often was it given to you on Alfheim?" Eir kept her voice calm and even, but the mention of Tinna extract concerned her.

"I don't know. But I need it. I need…I need something, just…something…"

"Come here. Sit on the bed. There you go," she said as she led him over to the bed. "Now look up at me. Open up your chest. Breathe. Look at me. Deep breath in." She breathed in with him, watching as his chest stuttered but allowed his lungs to fill. "Now deep breath out." She repeated the process several times, keeping her eyes on him, taking his wrist in her hand to track his pulse, until his chest rose and fell smoothly, his pulse slowed down, and the muscles around his eyes relaxed. "There, is that better?"

He took another deep breath, this time without her, then nodded.

"Good. Not quite as pleasant as Tinna extract, I suppose, but almost as effective, with none of the side effects. Do you have any trouble retrieving new memories? Experiences from after the procedure on Alfheim?"

"None. I check every day."

"How?" Eir asked, then watched as he stood from the bed and went over to the piece of furniture in the corner up by the front glass wall. When he came back, he handed her a bundle of bound glossy paper that she quickly realized was a calendar.

"Every day, in the evening, I write down what I did that day. I try to write things that are memorable, rather than everyday tasks, and each day before I write something new…well, and usually in the morning, too, I look back over everything I've written and make sure I still remember it."

"That's very clever. Prince Loki was always clever, and that's something that wouldn't have changed, I think, just because your memories are gone. So it worries you? That you might lose more memories?"

"Sometimes," he said after a moment's hesitation, his eyes looking anywhere but at her. He worried more than he was letting on. Loki used to be a much better liar than this, especially when it came to his feelings. As a boy he'd worn his heart on his sleeve, but somewhere along the way, little by little, he'd changed.

Then his eyes snapped back to hers and grew wider, while his breathing began to speed up again. "What's wrong?" she asked as soon as it happened.

"I…I don't remember your name. Was I told it? I think perhaps I heard it…but I don't remember. Was I told it?"

Eir smiled in relief. "I don't remember, either, Lo-, Kendrith. I think perhaps you weren't told it, because we all thought you knew it. And you might have heard it, but that was a traumatic morning for you, and it's understandable that you wouldn't remember. So, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Eir, and I am Asgard's First Healer. The title means that I am in charge of the Healing Room, and all the rest of Asgard's healers. And I have been your personal healer all your life."

"Loki's. But yes. I remember that part. You said so right before you lied about the mole."

"All right. Loki's, if you prefer," Eir said, though this was a strange concept to her. Loki did not stop being Loki by having his memories removed; he was simply Loki with a very specific form of amnesia. And she wasn't certain whether his insistence that they were somehow two distinct people was healthy. But it wasn't her decision to make, and unless a problem was proven to be caused by it, it wasn't her place to argue. "And I do apologize for that. It was the quickest and safest means of proving to your mother that – I'm sorry, to the queen – that you were lying about being another person. Although as it turns out, you weren't entirely lying, in a sense, were you?"

"I was lying…I just…I wanted to say whatever I had to so I could stay safe. You were all so…intimidating."

"Again I apologize. Please try to understand, we didn't know the truth then. If Prince Thor hit you with his hammer, it was because he expected you to fight him as Loki would have. And if your- If Queen Frigga drew a dagger to threaten you, it was because she loves her son fiercely and thought you had harmed him somehow. And as for me, well, I did what I felt was best in a tense situation, but I have never claimed to be perfect."

Loki was looking around the room, his eyes going to the overturned food and furniture, then quickly jumping elsewhere. Eir wondered if it was too much, what she'd said about family he didn't remember and seemed determined to reject.

"Sit down again for me, please?" When he complied, she went up to the front of the cell and lifted his chair from the floor, then placed it by the bed, facing him. She tested it for damage but found it still sturdy, and took a seat, her head at about the same height as his. "Now, can you tell me what upset you so, when the guards sent for me? You don't have to, but perhaps it would help. You can speak freely to me; our discussion will remain private."

Loki took a few deep breaths before beginning, and Eir was struck by how responsive he was to her instructions, far more so than he had been for a long time. "I…I think I made a terrible mistake," he began. "I was…discourteous toward the queen. More than once. And she may be my best chance of getting out of here, though now perhaps Prince Thor will help. But she must have the king's ear. I don't…I can't bear it. The thought of being locked up in here for the next hundred and forty-eight years. Can you understand it? I have lived now for fifty-one days. Such a period of time is inconceivable to me. Already my legs ache and my arms feel useless and I yearn for the suns. There's nothing for me to do here. I can sit and stare or I can stand and stare. There are a few books, but I don't want to read them. They were his books. There's even a bookmark in one. Shall I begin from Chapter Fourteen? And I am down here with murderers and…and that man who defiled the bodies of his victims," he said, thrusting out an arm to point toward the cell across the corridor, which currently could not be seen. "And they say…I know Loki did terrible things. But I don't remember any of them! My life began in my bed on Alfheim. I know nothing of Jotunheim or Midgard, and very little of Asgard other than this cell. If I could take back what he did, I would. But I can't. I'm not him. Why must they punish me for what his crimes? They will chain me up and beat me for his escape, for the guards he injured. Why? Why? I just want to go back home. Why can't they just let me go home?" he asked, and continued to ask as Eir leaned forward and held him, and his arms grasped her tightly and he wept on her shoulder.

Less than a minute later, as quickly as he'd returned her embrace, he jerked back from her and clasped his hands over his lap. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Sometimes I…behave inappropriately."

"You did nothing inappropriate, Kendrith. There's nothing wrong with accepting comfort, or with admitting your feelings. Sometimes that's exactly what we need to do," Eir said, looking steadily into Loki's eyes, and feeling as though she were looking into child-Loki's eyes again. In some ways, she supposed, she was.

"Eir," he began, hesitating and wiping his eyes with the hem of his short sleeves, "were we friends?" There was fear in his eyes, and she thought, with some relief, that she knew where it came from. He had rejected his family, and he didn't want to have to reject her, too.

Nor did Eir want that. "Not really," she said, pursing her lips slightly. "You listened to me – sometimes – as your healer." She hoped he might do so again, or at least speak and let her listen. It was obvious that he needed to be able to talk to someone.

He was clearly relieved, and nodded. "You see, it's the queen. She only sees me as him. Even when she asks about me, it's really about him. She asked me about my cooking, and she said I didn't learn to cook as a child. She can never leave him out of it."

"Would it be easier if she did? If she didn't mention him?"

"Yes," he said immediately, then looked down at his hands resting on his thighs. "No. I…Loki didn't want his memories anymore. So I don't want them either. The things that belonged to his life have to stay there. I don't want them in mine. My life has to be my own, not his."

"I suppose I can understand that, sort of."

"Then why can't she?"

"Loki, it's diff- Ah. See, it's difficult for me as well. I look at you, and I see Loki, one of my favorite patients. She looks at you and sees the son she would give her life for. Your rejection cuts her worse than any blade."

He frowned, and she saw his jaw move a few times before he actually spoke. "I don't mean to hurt her. I don't mean to hurt anyone. I just can't have her in my life. My life is on Alfheim and has nothing to do with anyone on Asgard."

"That's difficult for her, too. When you were angry at all the Nine Realms, you still loved her. You were always especially close to her." Kendrith was shaking his head, and Eir could tell he was uncomfortable hearing this, so she stopped.

"How much worse have I made things for myself? I forbade her from visiting me two days ago, and I sent her away when she tried again today."

"You mean have you made it less likely you'll be freed?"

He nodded.

"I don't believe it will have any effect. Recall that Loki made a number of poor choices, and some of them hurt his mother deeply. And still she would give her life for him. Kendrith…I consider the queen a friend. And for my friend's sake, I wish you would be kinder toward her. But I don't believe there exist words harsh enough to make her turn her back on you."

"But I don't think she's doing anything to help gain my freedom."

"I don't know about that, and I can't speak for her. I can only tell you that I know she has never stopped loving you."

"She should," he whispered a moment later.

Eir didn't know what to say to that. She loved Loki almost as though he were her own family, but she'd seen firsthand the devastating emotional toll his behavior had taken on Frigga, and she knew Loki wouldn't want that, if he had his memories. In the end, she decided to say nothing at all. Loki needed someone he could talk to freely more than he needed another person trying to influence him.

"May I examine you, Kendrith? I had intended to do so today anyway. Your hands look a little reddened. From the enchanted glass, I imagine?"

He looked down at his hands, then back up at her, and nodded. "Yes, I think so. They went numb earlier," he explained, holding his hands out for her to look at. She took one gently in her own, and began her examination.

/

So I was trying to figure out what to do about Ch. 15 "Odin," not done yet but destined to be far too long, and for some reason my brain turned on and I realized I could actually just cut it in half. Have a bit of mercy on me for the next chapter, it wasn't meant to be a chapter on its own, and I'm not sure how well it works on its own. So Ch. 15 will now be "Assembly" and Ch. 16 will be "Odin." But really they could be "Odin Pt. 1" and "Odin Pt. 2."

For this chapter, hope you didn't mind this foray into the POV of a non-movie-canon character. This story - at least this half of it - is as much about people's reactions to Loki as it is about Loki himself.

For the last chapter, thanks again for all your comments, and for your enthusiasm. My reaction to most reviews was: "What? You don't fully trust Loki? Really? Inconceivable!" ;-)