Narvi's eyes snap open, sitting up sharply, and silently sucking in air to his lungs. His exhale is staggered. His fingers and toes tingle. Narvi touches each of his fingers to his thumbs, trying to grasp what's real. Sigyn and Loki are sitting on either side of him, their hands raised as he jerked out of their touch. Amund's large hands are on one of his legs, trying to dry off the water that now steams off his skin.
"She saved me," he says, looking straight ahead and at no one. His breath is slowing and becoming more normal.
They all watch him in silence, waiting for him to speak again. Sigyn raises her hand to stroke his hair, calmly dragging her fingers through his wavy tendrils before starting again. Narvi's eyes glance at Amund, and he stares at the elf, not breaking his eyes.
"Did you see her?" he asks, Amund uncomfortable with his unbroken stare. To Narvi's eyes, Amund appears sheathed in light blue.
"N..no," Amund says, quietly but surely.
"Oh Narvi, you came back to me," Sigyn says, interrupting his inquisition of Amund. "We thought you were lost to us."
Narvi blinks, and turns to look at Sigyn. She is sheathed in blue as well.
"I was. I was lost."
"Yes, my love, and now you are found." She changes her hand position and strokes his face. He does not echo her movement, and turns to his other side.
Loki is attempting to steel his emotions, relieved that Narvi is awake but still in shock at the prospect of losing him. Narvi had stopped breathing and went limp in his arms. His son looks at him with new eyes. Loki appears to Narvi as if he is surrounded in a halo of red gold.
"What is your name?"
Loki's crest falls. Have I been forgotten?
"I am Loki Laufeyson." Loki glances at Sigyn, attempting to read her thoughts. Is she afraid? He can garner nothing from her expression, which is a combination of relief and surprise. "And...and you are Narvi, my son." Loki feels sick.
Narvi closes his eyes, and shakes his head negatively. He reaches his hands to Loki's. He does not grasp them in the same knowing way he always does; instead, his touch is very light. Narvi can see Loki's energy waxing and waning in the sheen surrounding his body. It pulses with his heartbeat.
"You need to be healed."
Loki is perplexed. "No, my son, I am not injured." He tilts his head to the side as he says this, not sure if Narvi is truly awake.
"Not in a way that you can see," Narvi says. He fixes his eyes on Loki's. Without breaking eye contact, Narvi moves, kneeling before his father. His grasp moves from Loki's hands to the sides of his temples. He pulls his father in to him, and places his lips softly on Loki's forehead.
Narvi can see Loki as a small child, laughing and running through the hallways of the palace in Asgard. He is no older than Narvi was when Asgard fell. He is being chased by his large older brother, who yells after him. The child Loki hides on both sides of the hall, projecting himself so his brother will find him. At this age, he is happy, unaware how he does not fit in, satisfied with his station.
Loki ages quickly in Narvi's vision, being shown how to wear armor for the first time. It does not fit him well. He pulls at the breastplate and stands straight and tall, trying to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He is barely tall enough to see his face in it, let alone the rest of him. Loki stands on a chair. It is his mother's room. "Oh, don't you just look splendid!" Frigga says to him, forcing a smile on the young boy's face. She places a small crown of horns upon his head. "Prince Loki, you look divine. You are destined with glorious purpose." Frigga gives her son a peck on the cheek. "Come now, we will be late for the feast!"
Frigga's form walks ahead of Loki in the hallway. He stops as if he heard something. She disappears down the staircase while he looks around each pillar, searching for the source of the clatter. He makes his way farther and farther away from the main hall, and looks down a secluded passageway between the servant's quarters.
It is a young girl. She is laying on the marble floor, crying. She yells out for help, her clothing burning from a nearby vessel of fire. Young Loki rushes to her side, putting his hands before him, calming the flames. They go out quickly, without effort, but the girl is badly burned. She stares at him in shock. His hair falls into his face, and he must push the strands aside to see her better. Like his mother does before she shows him a new trick, Loki places one finger in front of his lips in a shushing motion, before concentrating again on her burn. With careful focus, he can draw the heat out, and heal the blisters that formed on her skin. "What is your name?" he asks the girl. "S...Sigyn," she stammers back to him. The vision fades away.
Now Narvi can see a grown man, filling his armor well, fighting alongside his brother. They are on a cold planet. "If they touch you, they burn you!" Loki hears from one of the others, fighting off the blue adversaries that surround him. He projects himself from one side to the next, too agile and clever to be caught, until suddenly he is. His left arm is firmly in the grasp of one of the Frost Giants. The Jotun squeezes, freezing his vambrace and watching his armor shatter in the cold. But Loki's skin is unburned. Instead, his arm becomes a matching shade of blue. "No..." Loki says in his head, disbelieving. He kills the giant, but stares as his arm returns to his normal color, deaf to the sounds of the surrounding battle.
Loki now sits beside a glowing, golden casket. Inside lays Odin the Allfather, in a trance. His mother sits to his left, worried sick over her husband, and over Loki's brother Thor, banished to Midgard. Loki questions his mother about this secret, this betrayal in his veins. "He should have been honest with you from the start. As family, we owe each other that." He questions her, and the purpose of the Odinsleep, even the absence of Thor. He stands to leave, too frightened and upset with Odin to watch him sleep before him. Loki is stopped at the door by a soldier, handing him Gungnir, the weapon of the King. Loki furls his brow, confused. "Loki, we need you." Frigga looks at Loki with an expression of confidence; Loki cannot help but become teary. But...what if I don't want this? Loki thinks to himself. He is not ready to be King, though he takes the staff, wanting to please his mother. The same staff he releases while staring up at Odin, looking for acceptance and approval in his father's eyes. He does not receive it.
Loki's memories are a cascade of misguided decisions, unfriendly creatures and servitude to beings much stronger than he. Narvi searches past these dark times, looking for light. When he sees it again, Loki stands with his mother, cloaked in a projection spell to come visit him while he waits in bondage. She gives him books, some of the same that Narvi recognizes from Vali's room, and tries to give him comfort from his circumstance. Loki feels resentful towards all in the House of Odin, even her. For a split second, he tells himself that Frigga is not his mother, and that he truly is alone. Suddenly, a new sensation, rushing colors in Narvi's vision, as Loki must have tried himself to wipe away this memory. But he can reach it nonetheless; it is the form of Frigga, laying lifeless on the floor. He blames himself, and will not be convinced otherwise.
Sigyn appears. She ebbs and flows in Loki's memory, first as someone seen in a passing glance, then as someone who appears with much more focus. She is surrounded in a pink glow in all of Loki's memories. Narvi can hear her speaking to him, but can't quite make it out; sometimes she speaks sternly, and sometimes she is laughing. A strong memory – he hears Sigyn telling Loki that she loves him for the first time. She is crying. But Loki asks her in his mind, say it again, say it again, over and over. He can hear Sigyn singing. Then, he hears Sigyn screaming. She yells for Loki, and gets no answer, only tears. Thor rushes to save her.
Narvi can see Sigyn in Loki's eye, watching her belly grow with each passing day, the weeks passing as seconds. Loki sings to her, and talks with her, trying endless spells to bring her back to him. Narvi sees through Loki's eyes as he washes her hair. In this time, Loki softens. He spends much of the time conversing with Frigga's spirit; one-sided conversations that never give an answer. Many tears are shed in silence over Loki's loss. He asks her, repeatedly, Mother, what have I done?
In the black of the tent on Vanaheim, Loki pleads again to Frigga, I will do anything, Mother. Please bring her back to me. Even if I am to die. Please let her live. Loki leans over his bride, granting her a soft kiss, and breathes her into him. His effort feels futile.
The next morning, Sigyn wakes.
Narvi pulls away from Loki, exiting his memories, and looks at his father with a knowing glance. Loki squints at Narvi, aware of what he saw. His brow furls in, and his hands go to his knees as he tries to stay upright.
"Why...why would you do that?" Loki asks, tears welling in his eyes, uncontrollably leaking down his face. Narvi stands above him. He watches the aura of red gold around Loki, pulsing ever harder, and raises his father to his feet.
"You are released," Narvi says, and places one hand over Loki's heart. He inhales deeply. Sigyn and Amund gasp at the sight of radiant red flowing off of Loki's form and into Narvi. Sigyn shrieks briefly under her breath, but Narvi cannot hear her. Amund grabs Sigyn's shoulder and she clutches him in turn, her eyes unblinking to the spectacle. The color swirls around Narvi like a tornado of wind and light.
The mist off Loki's skin finally ends, and he falls to the ground. He is conscious, but stunned. Narvi stands stock still, his eyes echoing the color fed off Loki, until he closes his lips and exhales. As he does so, freezing wind comes cascading through the field. The trees weep heavily, though the tiny group is isolated by Narvi's magic shield. By the time Narvi is finished exhaling, the clouds that cover Einheim's sky split and fade, emptying a skylight of bright stars above them. He embodies the planet itself, heaving and fluid with breath and water. Its curative energy flows through Narvi as the Don River fountain once did. Narvi has evolved, changed, advanced his magic to a new plane.
"Loki!" Sigyn crawls to his side, and he awakens at her voice, grasping at her arms. He looks up at Narvi from the ground, angling his neck to see his face. Sigyn finds that Loki looks younger still, even more beautiful than usual. She furls her brow at the sight, not sure of what she sees. She even feels like he looks as he did when they met. Indeed, all the gray that once speckled above his ears is gone, his face is smooth, and his eyes are brighter. He slowly sits up. Loki's expression is one of doubt, his mouth hangs open. Sigyn touches Loki's chin and directs his gaze at her. She revels in his youthful appearance, looking even more de-aged than he did when Narvi first arrived.
"Oh, Sigyn," he says, "where would I be without your love?" Loki strokes the sides of her face, and pulls her in to kiss him. As he does so, Sigyn's age also melts away. She can feel the difference as her thinned skin and aged body strengthens. They return to the time of old Asgard, no longer struck with the poor aging of mortals, healed of guilt, loss, and struggle.
Narvi extends his hand to Loki one last time, inviting him to stand. Sigyn stays below, watching them both. They nearly match in age, Loki ever so slightly older looking than his son, replenished and anew.
"Laufeyson is not your name." Narvi says, now observing a blue sheen around Loki that echoes the other companions.
"It is not?" Loki asks, his voice changed and more innocent.
"No. You are Friggason," Narvi replies. "And you are blameless."
Loki pulls his son in an embrace. Sigyn stands and holds them both together. Amund rises as well, shuffling his feet in discomfort. When they all pull away, Narvi's eyes roll backward, and he faints onto the ground in a heap.