A/N: I'm pretty sure this is the chapter that EVERYONE has been waiting for and believe you me, it's been a long time coming. I know a lot of this is rough, and I apologize. But, I think the end will make up for that. :D Enjoy and let me know what you all think!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my characters and this crazy convoluted plot.
Barriers
By the time the world clears again, it takes him quite a long time to make sense of what all he is seeing around him.
For one, he's no longer in the palace. In fact, he's somehow hovering above the palace on a platform that has never existed before this moment.
For two, the side of the palace where his and Charlie's chambers reside is now gone.
Well, not completely. Just his rooms and Charlie's original chambers are missing. His brother's chambers remain untouched, and he is able to see the hallway that leads to the twin's rooms just on the other side of the hall, everything completely untouched. It looks as if someone just scooped out a portion of the hall and left the rest perfectly intact. His eyes trail down to where his arms are braced against the "floor" he is somewhat lying on. At first glance, it appears to be nothing more than solid air, completely transparent. He can see the rainbow bridge directly beneath him, pulsing with the steady brilliance of colors as always. However, upon closer inspection, he can see swirling patterns in an almost pale white bordering on transparency that looks vaguely familiar, even if he can't place where he's seen them before.
His first thought is that someone had solidified the air to create this odd platform. After all, such spells are not impossible. They are simply extremely difficult to execute and sustain as it requires a lot of power and concentration to prevent it from falling apart. His eyes trail to the right, trying to find the edge of this thing. It's hard to discern where the platform ends and where regular air begins, so he can only assume it's a large space. There is no way this is a magical spell.
Something else is at work here.
He turns his head to the left to see if he can determine an edge in that direction only to be met with the vision of his wife. She's on her knees, her head bowed to her chest as she braces her hands against the same hardened platform he seems to be on. He can just make out a grimace of pain on her face, her still relatively short hair doing a good job at hiding her features from view. He stands slowly, making sure the air won't suddenly give out under him and have him plummeting to the ground beneath him. He walks cautiously over to her, keeping an eye on the ground he seems to be treading on.
He is forced to a complete stop, however, about a foot in front of her. He stumbles back a step before regaining his footing, glaring at the space in front of him for whatever it is that is keeping him from his wife. He's able to distinguish more of the swirling patterns in the air and he realizes that there is a type of wall in between them, keeping them separated from each other.
Unsure of how to dispel the barrier, he simply lowers himself to his knees in front of her, placing a hand against the wall. "Sigyn?" he calls gently, vaguely wondering if she will be able to hear him.
She lifts her head very slowly, her face still contorted into mild pain. Her green eyes stare at him in confusion as she sweeps some of her hair behind her ear to get it out of the way. "Loki?" she mouths, but he isn't able to hear her through the barrier between them.
"She would make a wonderful exhibition piece, wouldn't she?" a familiar baritone voice calls from behind him. Eyes widening, he slowly stands, spinning on his heel to regard the smirking man with triumphant crimson eyes. He's standing some distance away, about four meters away, closer to the spires of the palace than them. "Perhaps I should sell her to the Collector?"
Loki's eyes narrow at the comment, but he chooses to ignore it for now. "Nuxosk?" he asks, with a mild tone of incredulity.
The Goblin gives him a mocking bow, holding his arms out in a grandiose gesture, but never once breaking his eye contact with Loki. Loki's eyes happen to focus on the odd weapon in the man's hand as he straightens once again. He holds the fairly long, curved blade by the hilt, the sharp point pointed outwards. The only reason why Loki is familiar with the weapon is simply because he had happened to see Natasha carry such a weapon during one of Tony's Halloween Balls.
It's a katana.
Only, it is a peculiar looking one. The katana he was privy to was a fairly simple one: regular leather hilt with a metal blade that curves just slightly before coming to a point about two feet long. The blade currently held in Nuxosk's hand is not nearly so simple. The hilt has swirls with purples and pinks and looks like it is made out of a stone-like material, smoothed over by years of use. The blade closest to the hilt has magenta gems inlaid in the metal. It's too far away for him to distinguish if it is in any sort of pattern. He can't get any further description on the blade other than it is sharp and deadly and something to be wary of.
Loki takes a quick glance behind him to see that Sigyn has risen to her feet, one hand pressed against the wall in front of her and the other pressed into her temple. Noticing the familiar slightly hunched stance, she must have another headache. He spares the wall a brief glance before focusing on her again. This must be too close a situation to what happened to Charlie with Tnumer and it's causing her another headache. Her green eyes are narrowed at Nuxosk and she seems to be ignoring the pain in her head by sheer willpower alone. Her eyes flick down to the katana and the emotion shifts from pain to understanding to downright fear, which she does her best to hide. Loki has become well-accustomed to reading her by now, so he can still see it even though she is doing a remarkable job of looking angry rather than frightened.
Loki returns his focus back to Nuxosk. While he doesn't like the fact that she's stuck behind a barrier of some kind, at least she is safe away from their attacker. He thinks. His eyes keep flicking back to the katana held in Nuxosk's hand. Something at the back of his mind keeps trying to gain his attention about it, but he can't seem to figure out what that something is.
Nuxosk's eyes narrow on him, as if contemplating something. "Hm, I just had a an interesting thought," he announces, still with that small, insufferable smirk on his face. "I would very much like to try it out."
Loki's eyebrow rises at the man. "Care to share your thoughts?" he asks back.
"Why share them when I can just…" He flicks his wrist, the blade moving in an arc around him. A pulse of magenta light falls from the blade and a moment later, a heavy weight falls around Loki's wrists. He blinks in surprise at the shackles that now encircle them, their golden glow and runes a little too familiar. Keeping his head bowed, he flicks his eyes back up to glower at the Goblin man standing in front of him. "It's far more fun to do what I'm thinking rather than just think about it. Don't you agree?"
Loki doesn't bother giving him a response. He's too busy trying to figure out how he managed to summon a pair of Asgardian magic dampening shackles up from the bowels of the dungeons and simultaneously lock them around his wrists. Such a feat shouldn't be possible, even for someone like him and his own prowess with magic. If it were, capturing Lorelei would have been much easier and would not have required Sigyn to disguise herself as him in order for it to work.
And just how does that blade come into play with all of this?
"I wouldn't bother trying to figure out how I managed to do that, my lord," Nuxosk states, starting to walk toward them both with a small little pleased swagger to his gait. "After all, this is magic you have never witnessed before."
He flicks his wrist again with another magenta colored pulse and a familiar teddy bear appears in the air next to him. Loki tenses further, if that's at all possible at this point. "Where did you get that?" he asks, his voice low.
Nuxosk chuckles. "I do believe the better question is where I got everything of yours. After all, this entire platform is made from your own chambers."
"Excuse me?"
Nuxosk smiles, his eyes flicking to look back at Sigyn. "Hm, I think the dear princess understands fully. But, allow me to demonstrate to you, my lord Loki."
Loki glances quickly to Sigyn and just happens to notice how tense her body has become over the past couple moments. Her hands are balled into fists at her sides, one of which has Volyauri held in her grasp. He had almost forgotten about the powerful blade up until that moment. She must not have let it go when they were transported here. Her eyes flick to him for a brief moment before staring forward again. Loki follows her stare, starting to pay more attention to the katana. He's doing his best not to think about what Nuxosk's possession of that bear might mean about Islinde.
Not that that is actually working.
Nuxosk lifts the katana until the very point is pressing into the animal's belly, the fur brushing over the metal. Another pulse of magenta light is emitted and right before his eyes, the bear dissolves away into what can only be described as dust motes with a particular pink-ish hue. Loki blinks in surprise as the particles float in the air in a misshapen orb in the space where the bear once was. Within another blink, the shape transforms into a long line, stretching about three yards in length. Another blink and it solidifies into shiny metallic links.
Nuxosk just transformed his daughter's teddy bear into a chain.
'What in the nine…?' Loki wonders, his eyes flicking back to Nuxosk's pleased face.
"Perhaps I should allow the princess to explain," Nuxosk finally says, plucking the chain out of the air and twisting it around his free wrist in a languid manner. "Although, I was under the impression she had told you the tale." Once again, he points the katana forward, straight at Sigyn. Only a moment later, they can hear her through the wall she seems to be hidden behind.
"How the fuck did you get your hands on that?" she yells, her jaw clenched tight and her eyes worried.
Nuxosk snickers. "I found it in the treasure vault, of course. After all, that's where our legends say it should be."
"Nobody but the King has access to those vaults. What did you do to Thukmet?"
He rolls his eyes, starting to spin the chain in the air in a restless fashion. "It is not difficult to bypass him when you have followers hidden within the guards. Don't be naïve."
"Damnit, Nuxosk, this isn't a game!" she shouts. Loki's eyes widen, hearing the fear entering her voice. His eyes fully take her in. Her grip around Volyauri is tight, her knuckles white. She has a pleading look in her eyes as she tries to speak to her cousin, only slightly overshadowed by her fear of the weapon he is currently wielding. It's almost the same look and attitude she had when she discovered he had Volyauri.
His mind jumps back to when she was explaining just what that small blade was to him after they had retrieved Islinde back from Lorelei. My ancestors tried every option they could think of to destroy the sword, but nothing worked. With only a day to spare, the sorcerers came together and decided on a plan: they would divide the sword into three parts and give only one to the commissioner. The other two would be either locked away or separated for all eternity… The first piece was the one made of turquoise crystals, renamed Volyauri. The second was the magenta crystals, named Ryotarmo. The third was the golden crystals, given the name of Boykoroitz.
Loki stares at Sigyn with barely hidden surprise before he resumes his focus on Nuxosk. That blade is Ryotarmo? The blade that can manipulate emotions and matter?
Nuxosk is busy smiling at Sigyn, far too smug in his stance. "Of course this isn't a game. I'm not playing. Well, I am a little bit. After all, how could I possibly stop myself from coming after the two people who put my plans on hold for as long as they did?" He sighs dramatically, looking down at the chain he's still spinning in the air. "However, I'm a little bored with talking now. There are more reasons than just revenge that I came here."
"Loki, get out of here," Sigyn orders just as Nuxosk's grip on the katana tightens.
"No."
"It's bad enough I'm trapped here, you don't need to be too!" she counters, her voice low and demanding, even if it's slightly pleading.
Loki ignores her commands, looking at her out of the corner of his eyes. "You are forgetting on thing, my lady," he responds, keeping his voice low enough that only she will hear. "I still do not know where my daughter is."
"There is no need to worry about little Islinde," Nuxosk calls, forcing Loki's glare back onto him. "I promise she is safe. After all, if I were to harm her, my deal would be off."
"What deal?" Sigyn asks before Loki can think about verbalizing his own concerns. This is all starting to sound very familiar and he doesn't like it.
Nuxosk cocks his head to the side, staring at her with mildly curious eyes. "Did you never wonder why it was that Islinde was kidnapped so many months ago? Or about why you were taken with her, when you had absolutely no connection to her?" He grins. "Or did you just not want to think about it?"
Sigyn doesn't respond and Loki doesn't turn to see what she might be doing in response to Nuxosk's questions. He will admit that he never once thought to ask her what she thought about what must have been an extremely odd occurrence for her. After all, they both know that Lorelei's true objective was Islinde and Charlie was nothing more than a tag along. A tag along that ended up benefiting to Lorelei's wishes and not the one of her employer. He should have thought to ask Sigyn these questions.
"You did not address the question, Nuxosk," Loki states, choosing to force the man to focus on him and not on his silent wife. "Where is my daughter?"
He waves his hand dismissively. "Close by. She's still on the realm, if that is what you want to know."
"That is not what I want to know," he responds, his voice lowering to almost a growl. Although he does feel a little better knowing that she is still on Asgard. The last time she went missing, she was on the edge of the nine realms. This is, at least, an improvement.
"You still haven't explained what this deal is," Sigyn interjects, her own voice hard. "Who do you have a deal with?"
Nuxosk tuts, waving the blade in his hand in a pendulum motion as if scolding a child. "I know what you are doing, princess," he admonishes her, his tone mocking. His crimson eyes dance with mirth and far too much confidence, in Loki's opinion. "You are delaying. It's not going to change anything. I'm still going to kill you both and I am going to hand your precious daughter over to your greatest enemy." He chuckles. "He will raise her to be the greatest weapon this universe has ever seen."
Loki's chin lowers slightly, peering at Nuxosk with the top half of his eyes. Greatest enemy? He can think of a few people that could be classified as his "greatest" enemy, all of which leaves a bad taste in his mouth. However, none of those individuals he has seen in several decades. How would they know anything about Charlie or Islinde?
And, more importantly, how does Nuxosk even know about this?
"That little girl isn't a weapon, Nuxosk," Sigyn hisses, her voice thick with anger. "You can't hand her over like she's some kind of commodity!"
"Isn't that what you are?" he retorts, looking genuinely puzzled. "Strongest Goblin to walk the nine realms in millennia, able to conjure a white flame without perishing. You killed our former king in the middle of a raging battle, overpowered an adversary attempting to kidnap you and successfully thwarted our old council and handed them over to face Asgardian justice. Did you honestly believe that anyone would love you for who you are? No, everyone wants you because you are powerful." His garnet eyes snap to Loki and he gives him a mocking bow. "I must say, your acquisition of such a powerful woman is most impressive."
"She is not an acquisition," Loki mutters. He wants more than anything to turn around and figure out why Sigyn is suddenly so quiet, but he needs to keep his focus on the man in front of him with a blade that can do things he can't even begin to fathom. He still needs to figure out a plan to get the Goblin to let go of the damn thing.
"Yes, she is."
"You lie," Sigyn whispers.
Loki finally does turn then, making sure to keep Nuxosk in his periphery as he looks at his wife. She's staring back at Nuxosk, her eyes confused. She had absolutely no resolve in her statement, only confusion as her eyes flick to Loki looking for answers that he can't provide.
"Well, that's just the thing," Nuxosk says. "I'm not lying."
Her eyes focus back on him. "I haven't done any of the things you claim."
"Who's lying now?"
"Nuxosk," Loki growls, facing him fully again. "You've said enough. Where is my daughter?"
The Goblin sighs, rolling his eyes to the sky in annoyance. "I think I've allowed this farce to continue long enough. Let's finish this, shall we?"
"Gladly."
The katana in Nuxosk's grasp glows, a light magenta color permeating the air around it. Nuxosk grins savagely at him just as a loud thump echoes behind him. "Loki, please, just get out of here before he hurts you!" Sigyn shouts. "He has a unique advantage over us both!"
He turns his head to spare her a small grin. "You have such little faith in me, my lady."
She can only shake her head slowly, her eyes filling up with tears. He comes to the quick realization that she's completely terrified. Not for herself. But she's terrified that he will die in the scuffle. He turns back around and faces his current opponent. True, the odds are against him in this fight. Nuxosk has a powerful and deadly weapon at his disposal. He's also managed to limit Loki's own abilities with these shackles he created around his wrists. However, Loki is no novice when it comes to physical conflicts. While not necessarily as powerful as Thor, he is still considered one of the best fighters in the realm for more than one reason.
Nuxosk's arm twitches just slightly and Loki runs forward before he can bring the sword up to cast whatever spell he was intending, getting in close to the Goblin. He's not entirely sure how good of a strategy this is—after all, Yolyauri is a blade that needs to be used up close and personal, whereas Ryotarmo appears to be the exact opposite. However, he's sure there are multiple ways to use the matter blade to high efficiency whether its opponent is far away or very close.
He just hopes to surprise Nuxosk before he figures out how to do so.
Of course, having his hands bound together poses a whole slew of difficulties as well. Rather than trying to punch the Goblin man, he simply crouches down and sweeps his leg out, scooping Nuxosk's legs out from under him and forcing him to land hard on his back. Pushing himself back up, Loki attempts to take the man's position to his advantage, but the Goblin simply rolls away, rolling back onto his feet in no time. Loki rushes forward again, simply trying to keep his strategy of staying close to him intact. However, that's brought to a fairly quick end.
Nuxosk lashes out with the chain still kept in his other hand, the end of it wrapping around his own shackles a few times. He tugs on the other end of the chain, forcing Loki to stumble forward a few steps until he's face-to-face with the man who is currently trying to tear everything apart. Nuxosk grins sadistically. "I promise Islinde is bound for great things, Daddy," he mumbles, his crimson eyes darting to Sigyn behind him. "Charlie, on the other hand, will be dead before the night is over."
Loki growls. Taking a leaf out of his wife's brutal boxing book, he pulls his head back and headbutts the man in front of him, forcing the Goblin several steps back. He comes to a stop only, blinking dazedly only to be met with Loki's fists. The force of his strike forces the man onto his back yet again. Loki stalks him, keeping the tension of the chain wrapped around his shackles loose. He kicks him as soon as he's level, throwing him a few feet to the side.
Before Loki can try and kick him again, Nuxosk lifts his hand and sweeps Ryotarmo in front of him. Something wide and heavy slams into his side and he's forced to stumble to the side away from Nuxosk. He blinks at the space beside him, looking for whatever it was that slammed into him. He doesn't get long to look as another heavy slab slams into his front, forcing him onto his back and sliding him several feet back. The ground beneath him tips backwards and his body slides. He scrambles, trying to find some purchase on the smooth surface of the platform. He isn't able to find one.
"May your death be swift, Lord Loki," Nuxosk calls.
"Loki!" Sigyn screams. He manages to catch her scared and frantic expression before he's pushed over the edge of the platform and tumbles to the city below him.
OoO
"What's the matter, princess?" Nuxosk taunts, stalking closer to Sigyn's containment, a sneer on his face. "Couldn't quite handle watching someone you only just met recently take a fall like that?"
"Shut up," Sigyn responds, her voice tight with pain. She has the heels of her palms pressed into her temples, doing her best to force this irritating headache away using nothing more than willpower and pressure. She can see Nuxosk's dark boots enter her line of vision as she kneels on the ground, hunched in on herself in her pain.
"Why would I want to do that?" He asks, coming to a stop directly in front of her, only the thin, almost invisible barrier separating them. "After all, I won. Forgive a man for wanting to gloat."
Sigyn laughs darkly, shaking her head. She's able to lift her head enough to glare up at him. "You haven't won anything yet."
He shrugs. "Well, I suppose that's true. But I'm almost there." He glances behind him, probably at the spot where Loki fell over the side. He turns back to smirk at her. "Loki, even if he survived that fall, will be unable to get back up here to save you. And all I have to do is kill you to prevent you from warning Thukmet."
"Asgard will stop you."
"It will not be able to," he counters, raising Ryotarmo in his hand. "If they cannot touch me now, they certainly will not be able to later."
He spins on his heel, walking away from her to stare out over the edge of his created platform. Sigyn takes the spare moment to rest her throbbing forehead against the cool "wall", trying to make sense from the tumult in her head. As soon as Loki was shoved over the side, it felt like a meat cleaver had lodged itself in her head, which is only making everything else worse. Her mind was already spinning from what Nuxosk kept speaking of before him and Loki fought, not to mention the immediate headache she received waking up in this container. None of it is making any sense to her. But to watch Loki fall…
It's like something is snapping inside her mind and she doesn't know how to make it stop.
She swallows thickly, lifting her head back up to glare at Nuxosk's back. She has to keep him talking. That may delay him long enough for Loki to find a way back up here.
She refuses to believe that the fall did anything to harm him. He's too strong for that.
"What exactly is your endgame, Nuxosk?" she asks, keeping her forehead pressed to the wall.
He doesn't respond for a long moment, simply looking out over Asgard as the light from the stars paint the golden palace in rich colors. "Initially, it was simply to take the throne from Thukmet. I was meant to be the ruler of Maglubiyet, not that weak fool."
Sigyn's eyebrows furrow in confusion as she forces her mind to focus on his words. "Initially?"
He turns his head to look at her over his shoulder, that sickening smirk still on his face. Odd. She's been exposed to Loki's playful smirking for months now and yet she's never felt as exposed or sickened by it. Nuxosk's smile has always made her skin crawl, even when they were both children. Odd how the same expression can make her feel starkly different things. He faces forward again. "I am starting to believe that Tnumer's war was logical after all."
Releasing an irritated and frustrated hiss of air, she asks, "What war? My father was never involved in any wars!"
He spins on his heel again, staring at her very intently. "Are you really so sure about that?" he finally asks, raising an eyebrow at her. "All the time you've been like that and you have never heard anything contradictory to your memories?"
She refuses to give him a verbal response and just continues to glare at him, her head pounding even harder as past situations start to present themselves unbidden to her wishes. As much as she hates to admit it, she has heard whispers of things that don't make any sense to her. She already knows that Loki's previous wife was an active member in the palace and was a public face. Sigyn never has been. She chose to stick to the shadows and listen to the goings-on secretly. And there has been many times she's heard conversations that didn't make any sense. For instance, some of the conversations have been about Loki himself and about how much he's changed over the past few years. She was used to the female staff talking about him this way, which always made her feel oddly… possessive. She always just shook the odd feelings away, though.
She was fare more curious about the "fall from grace" people spoke of.
Loki has nothing but the best reputation on Maglubiyet: he's an accomplished and competent warrior with an immense skill with magic that is almost impossible to achieve. Her own skill with the tricky substance pales in comparison to what he can do. He has a reputation of having a faster wit than anyone can keep up with and a tongue that can manipulate anyone into doing what he wishes. He has been nothing short of a miracle for her home realm and her family and, in her honest opinion, far exceeds the reputation that preceded him.
And yet, amidst all of that, there is absolutely no hint of Loki having a dark and complicated past. Curiouser still, when she discovered this, she wasn't even mildly surprised.
And that is only the tip of the iceberg (to borrow one of her mother's favorite phrases) of the odd occurrences since she has joined the Asgardian court.
Thinking back on all the times she was confused or thrown off by her own reactions to things, the strength of her emotions for this odd and charming family, makes her head throb so painfully she's forced to curl back into herself, her hands pressing into her head in a vain attempt to relieve the pain. She comes to the realization, oddly, that her headaches only started when she was making these connections. Why would that be?
"Oh, they really did a number on you, didn't they?"
She manages to pull her eyes open to glare at her cousin standing in front of her once again. "I don't need your condescension," she growls.
He stares down at her, his expression unreadable while she fights back her pain. He slowly lowers his body until he's crouched in front of her, his elbows resting on his knees. Ryotarmo trails on the ground in front of him, the point pressed into the space beneath her knees. The barrier doesn't affect him? He eyes her closely, and if she had the ability to, she would back away from him. "Hm, you know, I was just going to kill you," he mutters, still watching her with that unnerving stare. "But…"
Before she could think to react, his free hand shoots out to wrap around her neck in a tight grip. She clutches his wrist in surprise as he rises, dragging her up with him. He doesn't dangle her though, just makes sure that she's on her own feet before continuing speaking. "I really do hate the fact that Loki managed to outwit me. Now I am going to take back what he stole from me. And ensure that my line remains on the throne for generations to come while I'm at it."
She swallows thickly, staring at him over her pounding headache and mild panic. She would much rather he kill her than settle with the fate he has planned for her. She attempts to kick him only for her foot to connect with the wall that's been separating her all morning. She grunts from the shock of pain that races up her leg, but she's more frustrated about being unable to hurt the arrogant bastard. He simply chuckles at her attempt. Changing tactics, she grins sadistically at him, for once grateful of her impulse decision to take Yuwokey when she was young. "You can steal me if you wish, but I will never bare your child. It's impossible."
He gives her another condescending look, as if she was nothing more than Islinde's age. "Whoever said you would be a willing participant in this?"
"It's still impossible," she growls. "I can't have children."
"Well," he drawls, seeming completely unfazed by this revelation. "We'll just have to fix that, won't we?"
Without further preamble, he presses the flat of Ryotarmo against her stomach, the magenta light of its magic seeping into her body. She clenches her eyes shut, bracing herself for some form of impact. While she doesn't remember falling into Volyauri's control—after all, she was asleep and woke up in its grasp— she has witnessed it and very much doesn't want Ryotarmo to change her. It may not be able to control her will, but it can change her body simply because she is made of matter. And who's to say Nuxosk wouldn't just find a way to impregnate her and force the process faster? She'll be dead that much faster too.
A few agonizing seconds tick by and nothing happens except for a comfortable warmth through the cotton of the shirt she wore to bed. She cracks her eyes open, vaguely wondering if she's supposed to feel anything. She is met with Nuxosk's baffled expression and comes to the swift realization that something isn't right, at least on his end.
"I don't understand," he mutters, still staring at her stomach as the blade continues to leak magenta light into her body. "This should have worked."
"Well, performance issues is, you know, not uncommon," she replies, giving him her best sarcastic look. "Best one out of five."
He levels a malicious glare at her, his hold tightening around her neck. "Perhaps this is better," he states, obviously attempting to take back his control. He removes the katana from her stomach, at least, the light dying from its blade. "Why would I want to lie with a half-mortal abomination?"
"Better an abomination than a power-hungry monster."
He growls, throwing her back. She lands on her side, sliding a few feet back and hitting the backside of this container he's stuck her in. He stalks away, his grip on Ryotarmo tight enough that his knuckles are turning white. Her eyes follow the blade, also wondering why his little scheme didn't work. She chooses not to focus on that for too long. After all, she just pissed him off and he's probably more willing to kill her now.
And she still needs to find out what he did with Islinde. Preferably before he kills her.
She slowly stands back up, grateful for the distraction of her headache if nothing else. She watches him, completely tense, as he paces the space in front of her, obviously working himself up into a greater rage. "I shall take Asgard," he growls, still pacing. "I shall complete what Tnumer started and I shall be successful where he failed."
Her head pounds behind her eyes, the force of the sudden pain dropping her to her knees once again. A sudden flash of… something… passes over her vision: the pulsing rainbow bridge beneath her full of a familiar advancing army, the throne room echoing with the sounds of clashing metal and the familiar smoky scent of her people's fires.
Her father's face hovering in front of her, his eyes filled with a mad sheen that she had never seen in his warm red eyes before.
"Mama?"
Her eyes snap open ('when did I shut them?'). She lifts her head slowly, still clutching the sides. Standing about ten paces away from her stands Nuxosk, that blasted blade tucked into his side. In his other arm rests Islinde, propped against his hip like he's done it a million times. She's still in her green nightgown, her black curls bedridden and messy on the right side of her head. Her cheeks are rosy and tear-stained, but her mismatched eyes are dry. Sigyn pulls herself up, doing her best to ignore the confusing images still flashing randomly behind her eyes and the migraine threatening to throw her onto the ground again.
"Islinde, are you alright?" she asks, wincing at the sound of her own voice. Just about everything is going to hurt until the headache manages to go away.
Islinde nods, her eyes darting to Nuxosk for a moment before flashing back on her. "Did you truly believe I would harm her?" he asks, sounding as if he doesn't care either way.
"Well, with the way you've treated me…" she grumbles, keeping her voice low.
"Where's Daddy?" Islinde asks, her voice small as she stares back at Sigyn.
Sigyn swallows thickly, an uncomfortable pulse of pain shooting through her head. She's only able to picture the surprised look on Loki's face as he tumbled over the edge and disappeared from view. Now that she thinks about it, this entire platform is transparent, with the hints of the patterns from the walls of their rooms swirling in a color almost too light to see. So why wasn't she able to see him after he fell over the edge? And where was Islinde before if she's suddenly here with them both now? Is Nuxosk able to make these spaces invisible?
And if so, what's really going on outside this space if she can only see what Nuxosk is allowing her to see?
"You don't need to worry about him," Nuxosk answers, a slow grin pulling on his lips as he stares at Sigyn. "After all, you're going to get a new Daddy."
"Shut up, Nuxosk!" Sigyn shouts, her anger jumping out of her as the pain in her head doubles.
"I don't want a new Daddy! I want my Daddy!"
Nuxosk's crimson eyes glare at her angry expression and Sigyn can't help but tense. "You lay a finger on her, Nuxosk, and I swear by all the gods you will live to regret it."
His eyes flick to her before refocusing on Islinde. "Perhaps it is time to say goodbye, right Islinde?" he asks. Islinde glares up at him, the pout on her lips making it more cute than menacing. The same cannot be said about Sigyn. She pounds her fist against the wall again, ignoring the dull ache in her hands and the headache splitting her skull in half. She can't allow Nuxosk to take her away, barrier and headache be damned. If he does, she has a sinking feeling they will never see Islinde again. She couldn't live with herself if that happened.
Nuxosk raises the sword at his side, pointing it straight at Sigyn. Unable to stop herself, Sigyn takes a wary step back, eyeing the magenta aura emanating from it. "Say goodbye, dear princess," Nuxosk calls, twisting his wrist and making the flat of the blade perpendicular to the ground.
'God , that is such a villain thing to say. At least be creative.'
Sigyn furrows her eyebrows at the strange thought. 'Where did that come from?' She doesn't get long to ponder it as cold water suddenly envelopes her feet, rising to cover her ankles and climbing up her legs at a swift pace. Her eyes grow wide and she stumbles back a few steps, her back pressing against the back wall of her container. Panic hits her hard for reasons she can't understand. A general sense of alarm would be normal given the situation (after all, this jail is filling up fast), but visions of the familiar sensation of drowning fills her mind and she can't stop her heart from pounding hard against her ribs nor her breath from coming in fast pants.
"Nothing like a fire mage dying by water, is there?"
Nuxosk's voice snaps her attention back to him and she forcibly shoves her panic and odd thoughts to the back of her head, her focus on her cousin certainly helping with that. Islinde is watching her with wide, scared eyes and Sigyn doesn't have a doubt in her mind that, as young as she is, Islinde has at least a small understanding of what's going on. The water laps up to her waist and she sucks in a hiss of air at the cold temperature touching her sensitive skin. She spares the liquid a quick glance before glaring at Nuxosk again. "This may stop me, you bastard, but it will not stop Loki."
He waves his hand dismissively. "He's dead and soon you will be, too," he counters. "So, I don't particularly care."
"Daddy isn't dead!" Islinde shouts, kicking him in the side for added effect.
Sigyn laughs at Nuxosk's enraged expression, shaking her head at him. "I agree with Islinde. He's not dead. Believe me, I would know if he was."
"Don't be so sure, princess." He scowls at her and Islinde before keeping his entire attention on Islinde. She seems to have refocused on Sigyn and the water that is now pressing into her upper chest. "Say goodbye, Islinde."
"Damnit, Nuxosk, let her go!" Sigyn shouts, her panic starting to resurface with the very real realization that if something doesn't happen soon, Islinde is going to be taken away. Her mind flashes briefly to Volyauri, which happens to be floating in the water about a foot away—she doesn't remember doing so, but she must have dropped it at some point—but it's not a long-distance weapon. She doesn't think so, anyway. Even if she could utilize its abilities through the barrier and reach him, she's not entirely sure what that would do. She would still be stuck in here.
"No," Islinde whimpers, tears starting to pool into her eyes.
Sigyn can practically feel her heart break hearing that sad sound. She wades to the edge of the barrier, ignoring the water lapping against her chin. She holds her hand up against it, staring straight at Islinde and ignoring her bastard of a cousin. "Islinde, it's going to be okay," she tells her, trying to infuse her voice with as much reassurance as she can. It helps that she actually does believe her words. It will be okay.
For Islinde.
Islinde shakes her head, starting to cry in earnest. "Mama…"
"It's okay, sweetie. You're going to be okay."
"Time to go," Nuxosk announces, nothing but disgust in his voice. Sigyn glares at him as he turns his body, keeping Ryotarmo extended at her and her prison for a moment more before dropping it back to his side. She glances up at the roof of this unconventional box, feeling the water starting to affect how well she can breathe. There isn't an abundance of water on Maglubiyet, so she doesn't know how to swim. Not that she has much room to do so even if she could. The top of this barrier is only two feet above her.
"No!" Islinde suddenly screams, snapping Sigyn's focus back to the two. Nuxosk has a glower on his face, apparently trying to strengthen his hold on the now squirming child in his grasp. She manages to kick him squarely in the gut, forcing a pained grunt out of the man. "Leave my Mama alone!" she shouts.
"Islinde!" Sigyn yells. She's unable to say more as the water starts to cover the space around her head. She presses her palms flat against the front "wall" and jumps up, just trying to keep her head above the water. Once she has a somewhat steady position, she stares back at Nuxosk and Islinde. She blinks in surprise at what she finds, completely taken aback.
It appears that Nuxosk has dropped Islinde. While she's pissed that he did, she's more focused on why he did. The entire right side of his body is covered in a thick layer of frost. Islinde pushes herself back up, watches Nuxosk warily for a moment as he hisses in pain, then turns and runs straight for Sigyn. Sigyn takes in a deep breath and sinks under the water to be on the same level as the little girl running up to her. She can't help but stare as she does, pressing her little hands against the wall on the other side. The blue highlights in her hair, normally so impossible to see, are shining bright as if they were dipped in a color far brighter than normal. Unusual lines, almost imperceptible to the eye, stand out on her skin, creating simple but elegant patterns of lines and circles. She suddenly, for reasons she can't quite understand, looks that much more like her father.
Feeling the burn in her lungs indicating she needs air, she pushes up and breaches the top of the water, but hitting the top of her head in the process. She takes in a few deep breaths, already knowing this will be the last time she does. She takes in one last breath and sinks below the surface, noticing Nuxosk starting to shake off the effects of the frost and turn his glower onto Islinde. Sigyn spares him a brief glare before returning her focus onto the crying little girl in front of her. She places her own hands against the barrier in front of Islinde's, giving her the best reassuring grin she can. She knows damn well it's not going to get her to calm down, but she's going to try anyway.
Her eyes flick back to Nuxosk as he starts to stalk forward, all of his focus on Islinde. Her eyes narrow. She has to at least try and protect this little girl. She stands up, as best as she can in water, keeping her hands pressed against the wall in front of her. Her movement forces Nuxosk to falter a step and stare at her with narrowed, suspicious eyes. 'Good. Keep your focus on me, you asshole.'
For once, she actually agrees with the familiar voice in her head.
She focuses on the inner tumult of her magic, already knowing that it's going to be especially difficult to work with because of her own confused and shifting emotions about everything. However, it settles down almost immediately when she prods it. The familiar reddish glow of her fire trails down her arms to pool into her hands. She pours all of the power she can into her magic, heating her fire up to temperatures she almost dare never reach as she keeps her eyes focused on Nuxosk through the barrier. He's watching her warily, his eyes focused on her hands to see if what she is trying will actually work.
Sigyn realizes within seconds of trying this that it's not going to work. A key component to being able to power her fire is air. Hence why she tires out so quickly when she uses such high temperatures: it's ten times more difficult to keep air in her lungs because her magic is siphoning it off to keep her fire going. She has a limited amount in her lungs now with no chance to get more. Also, there's no air in here to spark her fire and get it going, so she's essentially just holding two hot—granted, exceedingly hot—hands against a barrier made from the material of Loki's chambers, which probably has some sort of enchantment on them to prevent fires from breaking out. So, any chance of her breaking through is slim to none.
Nuxosk must come to this realization almost as soon as she does because he simply smirks at her. "Keep trying, princess," he taunts, stalking forward once again. His voice is slightly garbled in the water. "You might be successful in the afterlife."
Sigyn does her damndest to ignore the burning need in her body to inhale something as she puts as much power into her hands as possible, feeling her eyes shift to red in the process. She has no other plan and if it doesn't work…
A vibration goes through the water and she can hear a loud thump echo to her ears. She glances down to see Islinde hitting the wall with both of her hands just as Nuxosk reaches her. He bends over and scoops her up with one arm around her waist. She screams, kicking and punching him as he starts to walk away. "No!" Sigyn shouts, dispelling the rest of her air in one fell swoop as well as her fire.
Water rushes into her mouth and straight into her lungs as her body finally overrides her mind and forces her to gasp for air that isn't there. While her body struggles with coughing out the intruding liquid and gasping for none existent oxygen, her mind explodes with pain as memories of this same situation starts to flood her. The same hopelessness and terror, knowing that she's going to die and no one is around to help her fills her being and she struggles with the memories and emotions. Where in the world are all of these memories and emotions coming from?
She doesn't worry about it for too much longer as her body finally gives in to the inevitable and stops struggling. Her mind and spinning thoughts slow to a crawl and she simply floats in the comfortable water, closing her eyes. Maybe it's time for her to go after all? She'd struggled for so long and for so hard. She was tired of struggling and fighting just to keep herself alive and sane. Besides, she'll finally get to see her parents again. Right?
"Mama!"
Her red eyes snap open. 'Islinde.'
OoO
Nuxosk turns his back on the jail he had contained the Asgardian princess with memory issues in, growling at the struggling little girl in his arms. For one so small, she certainly is able to make it difficult to carry her. Perhaps having her witness her mother's death wasn't such a good idea.
He shakes off that thought. It's better for the brat to know that both of her parents are dead when he hands her over to his employer. That way she'll have no hope to return home or to have anyone find her. It's the least he could do for the one who gave him the tools he needed to find and retrieve Ryotarmo.
Once he hands this package over, then he can finally focus on his agenda and get to where he wants to be. First on his list is to remove Thukmet once and for all. He will make sure to publicly execute the boy in order to weaken his followers. And should they rise up against him? He'll just round them up and kill them as well. He's the rightful king and as such, they will follow him. He takes a quick glance around the realm in front of him, eyeing the golden palace in all its splendor. Once he has Maglubiyet in his hands, then he shall focus his efforts on taking Asgard. And after Asgard, perhaps Vanaheim? Or maybe even Midgard? Enslaving those stupid mortals would be quite fun.
"Let me go!" the brat in his arms shouts, managing to kick him in his stomach yet again.
He growls menacingly at her. "I would recommend you still and be silent. You're new parent is not going to be so lenient with you as your last set."
"No!" she shouts, continuing to struggle in his arms. She manages to wiggle her body around so she's facing him and looking over his shoulder. "Mama needs me! Let me go!"
"Your Mama is dead. Or at least about to be."
He isn't sure if it's his comment or the visual proof of his statement that forces the child to still in his arm as he stalks to the other end of the platform. But, he can't say he cares. The little menace is finally still and no longer leaking that blastedly cold air that she was earlier. Honestly, that stunt she pulled only moments ago could have seriously injured him if he wasn't a fire wielder. Further proof that he is superior to everyone on this realm.
"No," the little menace whimpers, her voice thick with tears. He snorts. It seems water truly is the ultimate weakness to his kind. He'll have to keep that in mind for Thukmet.
Suddenly, her struggles in his arm continue, if on a whole new level. He's forced to tuck Ryotarmo into his side, keeping it secure with his elbow and using his other hand in an attempt to keep the child still. "Cease this behavior this instant, you brat!"
"No!" she screams yet again, her crying turning into sobs. Her eyes are plastered on the scene behind him. "Mama!"
Two seconds after her anguished scream, the container he had built specifically to keep the powerful fire wielder inside bursts outward in a spray of water as a shock wave pulses through the air from the very center of the box. Nuxosk is pushed to the ground by the force of whatever it was that shattered her containment, rolling several feet away from it all. He, against his will, drops Ryotarmo and it is by sheer luck it doesn't tumble over the edge of the platform he had created for this unusual set up. Islinde was also dropped, not that he cares much. While he promised his employer that she wouldn't be harmed, he suspects he'll understand if she has a few bruises.
Growling in annoyance, he pushes himself back up, doing his best to wring out the ends of his thick robes from the water that had soaked into them. He stalks over to Ryotarmo when that task is complete and picks up the sword, flicking it with his wrist to get the water droplets off of the immaculately made blade. He eyes it critically, looking for any signs of damage. Finding none, he lowers it back to his side and turns his eyes where the container should have been.
Only, standing in its place, is a very pissed off, soaked woman with glowing red eyes, her left hand gripping a small, blue blade. She glares viciously at him and he involuntarily takes a step back from her, fearing the look in her eyes but refusing to admit so.
"Hello, Nuxosk," she greets, her voice nothing more than a low growl. "Now. Care to explain to me why the hell you're trying to kidnap my daughter?"