Visitation

by kalimecat

Loki has returned to Asgard and is imprisoned for his crimes. While in prison he has the occasional visitor, will the love of others bring back the fallen prince or is he truly too far gone?

12. Frost Giant

A/N: HEEELLLLOOOO READERS! First of all must thank you so much for your tremendous support on the last chapter. That was the most reviewed chapter yet and it was wonderful to read all your responses. Truly hearing back from you guys always becomes a bright spot and my day and makes writing this tale a great joy. Thanks to everyone who reads, reviews, favorites and follows I appreciate each and everyone one soooo much. I really worked hard on this chapter and like many times the chapter starts having a mind of its own and so all the parts that I thought I was going to be able to fit into one chapter don't make it in. But I thought in this chapter it would be good to introduce Sigyn in her actual mythological role. So here it is... Thor 2 is right around the corner WOOHOO
Well happy reads and writes and mostly God Bless!

Asgard's queen pushed against the ebbing tide of people fleeing from the Extraction Chamber. The Nobles, guards and healers raced past her in a dizzying blur. Their frenzied screams seemed silent to her. The only scream that still rang loud in her ears was that of her little boy's tormented howl. It had echoed throughout the palace, across the courtyard and into the streets, It was enough to wake the dead, it was heart wrenching cry of a man being slaughtered without pity. The sound tore through her soul like a terrible shears that would cut a lovely garment to shreds.

"Algrim! Algrim!" the queen demanded as she swam against the current of those who were running for their lives from the Extraction Chamber. The panicking court officials and terrified nobles nearly knocked the queen down as she tried to make her way to her son's side. Finally she managed to reach Algrim who was guarding the chamber door making sure everyone was evacuated. Queen Frigga's polished fingers fumbled as she frantically clasped at the trim of Algrim silky crimson colored tunics. "What has happened?" the queen asked in bewilderment, fear and panic displayed blatantly in his crystal blue irises.

"My queen," Algrim nearly squealed as her gentle fingers grasped at the fine silk fabric of his sleeve (Elfin silk was among the finest in all the realms) pulling him toward herself. "My Queen," he shook his pointy eared head. "What are you doing here, I was led to believe you would not be attending the extraction," he expressed breathlessly managing to give the queen a bow. "You must get back to your chambers, my lady," Lord Algrim instructed. "Tis not safe," the austere elf urged.

Frigga waved her hand refuting the warning that her long time friend seemed to be trying to give her. "I heard screaming, the most anguished of cries," the golden-haired female rule explained, her voice was firm and unmoving with the type of unyielding concern only a mother could possess. Her crystal blue eyes wide and her beautiful mouth contorted into a frown. " My son's screams coming from the very depths of his being as if his very soul was being ripped from his body," Frigga told harshly, her eyes were misting over as she spoke. "I...Is...Prince Loki...is my son alright?" she asked desperately, her voice quivering. Her left hand strayed to cover her heart it was beating more rapidly than it had ever beat before. Her breath stayed locked in her chest. She could hear her heart thrumming in her ears. She dreaded the words. She dreaded thinking of hearing it again. She couldn't bear to hear it. She couldn't bear to hear once again that her son was no more. The moment she would never forget. It had played like a sickening nightmare, a waking vision of anguished that engulfed her soul so many times since Loki had dropped from the Bifrost.

She was breathless and panicked after just seeing Frost Giants nearly take her husband's life and she had been powerless to stop them. Then only to see her youngest son slay those vicious beast, she'd felt so much pride and sheer relief wash over her she couldn't do anything but run into his arms like she was no more than a girl rushing up to thank her hero. Loki held her tightly and securely speaking words that were like a balm to ease her troubled and anxious mind. Before his silver-tongue could continue, her eldest strode in. Her heart could have burst for elation, after Odin had banished him she had feared she's never see Thor again. She rushed to hug him too, throwing herself from Loki's arms and into Thor's. Her happiness at seeing all her family together brought to a decisive end as she listened to Thor hurl horrible accusations at his brother. Charging him with treason, conspiracy and attempted murder. She couldn't believe it she looked back and forth between the two of them perplexed by all that her strapping blonde son said. Finally, her eyes fell on Loki's his green eyes flickered when they met hers then he looked away quickly casting a controlled glance at his brother before giving some excuse, but he hadn't denied that what Thor said was accurate. Her heart tore in two as she gazed upon Loki shooting a deadly bolt of energy from Gungnir at his brother and she watched Thor's body fly through the golden wall only to watch Loki dash away to the Bifrost. She went to tend to Thor without a second thought, he was mostly unaffected by the blast but warned her to stay with Odin.

"Thor what's going on?" She asked her shaking. He didn't answer, but quickly went to chase after the younger prince. She flung herself to the window looking on the scene with a foreboding dread as she saw Loki raced along the glimmering bridge of brilliant colors on the back of his dark mare headed for the Bifrost and only the see Thor zooming behind him. Eventually they were lost to her sapphire eyes.

The sound of mighty Mjolnir slamming against the glittering stained glass that made the rainbow bridge awakened Odin from his slumber. The King of Asgard shot up from his bed. "Odin!" Frigga gasped her voice a fright as she jumped from the window to be at his side. He immediately stood he looked bewildered and horrified all at once. He turned to her his sole gray-blue eye urging her for answers quickly. "Thor...Loki...Bifrost...Fighting...Quickly...Go!" she sputtered out in her fearfulness.

"Stay here!" Odin ordered never missing a beat of his kingly authority since he'd awakened from the Oversleep.

Queen Frigga nodded dutifully as she felt tears boiling behind her eyes. "Hurry," she urged in a trembling voice. With that, Odin flew out of the chamber, he was an old man now, but her ran with the power of a young stallion as he tried to reach his wayward sons in time.

Frigga staggered on weak knees back to the balcony. She gaped in horror as she beheld the massive flux of ultra-violet light that radiated from the explosion. The sound of the destruction of the bridge sounded like a star imploding on itself. It was awful. She had to shield her eyes as the piercing light that came from the rainbow bridge being completely shattered. She lurched over gasping, grabbing her chest as if she had been stabbed clean through her heart. All of a sudden she was brought to her knees. She closed her eyes as she collapsed on the floor still holding on to the golden trim of the banister that surrounded the grand balcony. "Odin will save the boys, Odin will get to them," she mumbled to herself in a silent prayer.

The grating sound of the shattering bridge finally subsided. The overwhelming illumination from the explosion of the Bifrost dissipated. Then there was quiet. A deafening silence that tore through the night louder than that the terrible sounds of the thunder and lightening crackling through the depths of space. It was so quiet, so still, as peaceful a night as any in Asgard as if nothing had happened. Frigga panted down on her hands and knees, finally pulling her face from the floor of the marble balcony. She managed to pry her baby blues open she looked out

Frigga waited for her in the sitting salon of her and Odin's chamber. It seemed like hours until they came. The door gilded door to the room slowly creaked open and she watched two weary and battle worn figures lumbered into the foyer. "Odin, Thor," Frigga exhaled their names as she released all her fears and worries, the tears immediately spring to her bright sapphire irises "My goodness," she breathed shaking her head as she placed her needlework down on the side of the couch, she flung herself at them wrapping them both type in a loving embrace, "You are safe!" she reached her shaking hands up and stroked Odin's face feeling him as if to inspect for any sign of even the slightest scratch or scrape. Once satisfied with her inspection she turned her attention to her son. He was such a big strong warrior, but he was always her child, she scooped his golden bearded face in between her hands before pulling his face down toward herself and showering him with protective maternal kisses."What has happened?" she whispered hugging two of the men in her life tightly. "What has happened?' she pressed the Crown Prince and King of Asgard.

"F-frigg-" Odin started his strong elderly voice getting caught in his throat.

"Loki!" the queen called looking over the slumped shoulders of her husband and oldest son. She had a hopeful smile etched on her lovely regal face. "Where's Loki?" She asked her voice still somewhat merry thinking all her family alright. "Odin I hope you have not been to harsh with him...I know not all that has transpired, but..." A pained sound coming from Odin's throat at her words froze her tongue in place. Thor had hung his head. "Where's Loki?" the blonde-haired queen questioned her lip turned with suspicion.

"Mother," Thor looked up at her his voice breaking instantly as their blue eyes met. He couldn't even bring himself to say it. His thick lips quivered between his golden beard and mustache. He shook his head allowing fresh tears to fall unbidden down his cheeks.

Queen Frigga looked to Odin, "He's gone," Odin finally managed to utter.

"Gone?" Frigga echoed with her breath hitching. "Gone where?" she demanded becoming suddenly very stiff under her husband's one-eyed glance, but King Odin didn't hold eye contact for long. Her features twisted, she sharply turned to her oldest child. "Where is your brother?' she asked her tone begging and hopeful. Thor gazed back at her his gorgeous blue eyes filling with liquid. "Loki," Frigga breathed her son's name as she felt the earth fall from beneath her feet. She felt her windpipe closing and she felt as if she was being smothered and suffocated by these words. She felt all the blood run cold, but yet her heart was pounding furiously without end. Her heart raced like a thousand horse drawn chariots running around the stadium. Her heart beat so frantically that she thought it would burst inside her chest and she wanted it to. She wished for it to. The she wouldn't feel this pain; this bloodcurdling heartache that tore through her soul. She screamed, howled and sobbed as she felt a sharp dagger slice through her innards. "LOKI!" she hollered clutching her heart and head as her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she fell helplessly into Odin's chest.

---

She couldn't go through it again. She couldn't hear that her son had been lost to the land of the living one more time, for she thought if she received a message this time she'd surely join him. Her heart couldn't bear it a second time, how many mortal wounds could one body take and expected to still survive. She wouldn't survive knowing that her child was dead The pain was too great. It was sorrow that she knew she couldn't overcome twice. Frigga blinked, tearing herself from her terrible musings and training her eyes to look at the stick-skinny pointy-eared noble of the realm who was before her, "Tell me Algrim," the queen implored.

"I can say not, my queen," he answered her. "Something went wrong during the magic extraction," He explained what little he knew. "There was an explosion, a magic ripple I suppose it blew out the windows made the chandelier crash and the floor quake, the ceiling seemed as if it started to cave. An electric current shot between Lord Audric's daughter, Lady Dagmar and Loki...she fainted during the procedures and Eir and the other healers were not able to stabilize Prince Loki...It appeared he had a seizure and it sent out this energy pulse that..."

The blue eyed queen of Asgard sucked in a sharp breath, "I must see him!" She declared pushing pass the elfin counselor.

"I'm sorry, m'lady," Lord Algrim stopped the wife of Odin from entering the now evacuated extraction chamber. Frigga looked aghast at Algrim's abrupt refusal to let her in. "It is too risky, highness," the elf elaborated seeing his sovereign's distress at not being allowed access to see her son. "The extraction tank overflowed and the ground is saturated with the ooze," the pointy eared official of court stated and a shudder took over his body as he once again caught of whiff of the noxious fumes that had bubbled out of that tank. " that is why we had to evacuate," he continued breaking from his shivering and turning his gaze back to the queen, "it is a very harmful substance your majesty," He insisted.

'I care not how harmful the substance is Algrim!" Frigga snapped at the adviser, ripping her wrist from her his white fingers. She startled herself with her abrupt manner, she could see how she'd frightened Algrim, he immediately flung off his hand from holding her and stepped back. The queen felt awful, she reached out her hand to him starting to apologize, but then she finally saw the Extraction Chamber door open. Odin was marching out hurriedly with only two of his most trusted guards at his side. "Odin!" Frigga called starting to rush to him. He turned his one eye toward her and his face looked stricken and grave. All the blood was drained from his cheeks and his skin that was normally ruddy, was pale as the alabaster columns of the palace. Queen Frigga shook her head. "Loki?" she asked breathlessly. She waited and waited it was merely a few seconds, but it felt like n eternity, Thor came rushing out of the room. He was running furiously, moving so fast to make his way to the halls of healing. She saw something blue and floppy dangling from Thor's arms. "Loki!" Frigga shrieked bringing her hands to her cheeks and without thought starting to rush to her son's side

Odin had retired to the privacy of his bathing chamber for hours. The steam in the bathing sauna was thick. So thick that it shrouded the king as he slowly began to remove the layers of fabrics that were his royal robes. He wanted the cloud cover, perhaps he thought he could use the immense steam to hide away for just an hour or so. He could almost hear the sauna attendant ready to remind him that the steam would ruin the fine fabric of the kings surcoat, and regal purple tunics, but the sauna servants had been dismissed; King Odin desired solitude. He cranked up the heat until he could no longer even see his hands before him as the fog rose and filled the chamber. He may have been able to cloak himself in the warm mist and hide himself in his own eyes, but there was no hiding from ones conscience. Odin let out an exasperated breath if only to keep from letting out a sob. He bit his lip as he slid the last of his clothing off before taking one of the fluffy towels from the cabinet and wrapping it around his rounded waist. He wiped his brow already starting to perspire. The sauna was now sweltering as Odin plodded over to the pool he was ready to submerge himself into the pool as if he thought that he could drown his distress in the scented waters of the bathing pool.

He scoffed at the notion, just like the heat of this room was oppressive and inescapable so was the weight on his heart. Before long he was standing right by the heated pool, steam rising from it like it was a boiling lake. He swiped his weathered, leathery hands over his face and felt the moisture that was lingering in his beard he realized that it was not simply sweat from the steam bath that made the liquid. Odin's face formed a deep frown. He plopped down on the marble bench by the side of the pool, he rubbed his rough hands together. He paused and looked down at them, he could barely see them through the fog, but still he could imagine, imagine them once again cradling a squalling ice blue infant with flaming hot eyes, only to watch as said babe transformed into a soft pink skinned creature with fiercely shrewd emerald orbs. He saw that same hand reach out to ruffle silky midnight locks as he laid a sleepyhead child to rest. He thought of his hands being reached up to eagerly by slim, pale ones much smaller in size as they firmly clasped the child's. Those same hands had clapped a young man on the back after a job well done. He blinked his right eye, the only eye he had, trying to convince himself that the heat of the sauna must having been irritating his eyeball. He rubbed the eye and the visions changed and he saw Loki's body lying listlessly on the cold white marble floor, surrounded by the sickening purple goo that was the extraction solution, his body blue as it had been when he was a baby, but he was not living and full of vigor, no breath let a lone cry came from him and his eyes...Eyes that had always been so full of quickness and wit, alert and attentive, glittering green gems so full of impish mischief, they were now red once again...a bleeding screaming red, but they were empty. He could hear Thor bellow his brother's name desperately before raising Mjolnir in the air and summoning thunder and lightening and striking Loki's body with a few bolts trying to revive him.

Furious heels could be heard clicking and clacking in a tempestuous manner into the king's private bathing sauna. Dainty feet that normally glided almost silently across the floor now stomped belligerently toward the king's presence. Odin popped his wet face up from his hands the tempestuous tapping of the swiftly moving footsteps the only thing pulling him from his weeping. "Frigga?' Odin asked as he waved away the fog of steam that obscured his vision. He looked around wildly with his one eye, he couldn't make out an image through the steam, but the footfalls fell quicker as if they were nearly breaking into a full tilt charge. Odin pulled himself from the off of the marble bench and started to make steps toward the intruder.

WHACK! The ruler of Asgard bristled once he registered the hard slap to his jaw as he watched his wife's features swim into focus as the mist and fog of the sauna started to disperse. Her features were pinched and twisted with a fury that only could be on the face of a strong woman. Her naturally curly golden locks were plastered to her face from the heat of the room. Her face was flushed and flustered. Her breaths coming out labored and quick as her emotions rose to an all time high. Her sapphire eyes swirled with unbridled emotion they looked like a stormy sea raging and roaring bubbling and burning with pain, fear, shock, anger. The emotions could not be quelled rapid moving tears spilled out of the stormy eyes and down onto the reddened cheeks. Her light gold eyebrows furrowed and were knit together as tight as if someone drove a needle through them and hemmed them that way. Her lips were quivering fiercely, she'd startled herself with her gesture. She was overwhelmed. She wanted to break down and weep into the king's arms, but she'd show herself strong, and she'd not apologize for her outlandish actions.

"Frigga," Odin's voice was tender with concern for his wife, he stretched forth his strong hand toward her dampened cheeks. "You should not be out of..." he started. She raised her elegant bejeweled hand again, ready to strike. Odin caught her wrist midair as it was only centimeters from coming in contact with the whiskers on his face once more. "Frigga!" He barked struggling to pull the enraged queen's arm back to her side. Frigga struggled and twisted. "Frigga," he spoke to her sharply. "Enough of this!" he commanded his sturdy hands pinning her hands down to her side and she trembled and shook with rage.

"How could you!" the queen hollered in the king's face, her face burning an even brighter crimson than before as she let all her pent-up ire erupt like water springing forth from a broken dyke. She yanked her wrist free of Odin's firm grip. "How could you!" she demanded once more her fury in no way extinguished, but she once again began to regain some of her royal composure as she flicked he wet blonde hair from her eyes. "How could you?" she asked once more her voice little more than a pleading sob, She stared at Odin through the rising gray steam and saw his blue-gray eye staring into her hurting sky-colored pupil and she could see that the red around it too showed he had wept for their son. It made her break, finally give into it at last. She flung herself at his chest. Although Odin had grown older and wearier in the recent years his chest was no less as strong or as comforting to her as it had been to her in the days of the their courtship.

Without hesitation, the sovereign of Asgard wrapped his consort in a tight embrace that kept her from sliding to the floor as her knees started to buckle. She sobbed harder clutching at his skin trembling with weeping. Her torrential tears stinging the bare skin of his chest. He stroked her pretty golden ringlets as he held her even more securely rocking her in his arms. He hummed while his big arms engulfed her protectively and she buried her nose in his bosom. Perhaps it was the weight of his queen, as her knees gave-out and she collapsed completely dependent on his to support her, or perhaps it was the burden of his own tremendous remorse, but he slowly lowered them both to the ground. Frigga's scarlet gown would be terribly soiled more than the laundress and Frigga's seamstresses could repair, but it was of little consequence now, the royal couple fell into a heap both cradling each other in the arms as they cried. "Oh Odin," she began to blubber nuzzling closer to him pressing her smooth cheek into his coarse salt and pepper haired chest. "Our boy...our sweet boy...I...I...poor Loki," she shuddered.

For a long while Odin was silent simply resting his chin on top of Frigga's head, finally after what seemed like an eternity of the two of them being lost in their grief, Odin managed to pull his chin from her hair. Feeling the disconnect, the queen looked up at her husband, her eyes lost and tormented her face paint smeared miserably so that she looked like a girl who'd taken to playing in adult beauty products. She reached up stroking the side of his face where she'd struck him as he turned his head. Odin steeled himself, he took a few deep breaths then swallowed the large lump in his throat, Frigga's gentle hand caressed the side of his face and yet he knew the tender touch would not last. He cleared his throat. "It had to be done, Frigga" Odin said in a still voice as he started to push away from his wife for more that 2000 years.

Odin started to rise, bringing himself from up of the floor and turning from the beautiful golden queen who still set on the dark limestone floor of the bathing sauna. Frigga looked up at him gaping with pained astonishment. She watched him straighten the covering cloth around his waist as he turned his head so that he could not see her because he'd turned his good I from her. "Had to... be...had to be done," Frigga panted anxiously, sitting up. Though he didn't face her to see her expression he could feel it. He could feel her jewel colored eyes that had been wide with heartache, narrow like that of a snake , he could hear the way her breathing changed to something fearsome and ragged and sense her lip snarling and her body hunching over in the position of some ferocious jungle cat. "Had to be done!" she shouted. "Had to be done!" the queen slapped the ground so hard with her palm that it made her hand sting. "And look what has been done!" the blue-eyed female monarch raged. "Look what you have done!" she demanded managing to bring herself to a standing position. " Look how far this has gone!"

"No one knew exactly what the results would be, we all knew it was a risk,"

"And you decided that your son's life was worth risking?" the golden queen growled. "You have..." She started.

"And what would you have had that I'd done?" Odin now demanded of her turning on her and gazing fiercely at her. "Something had to be done! The populace is in an uproar!" Odin elaborated waving his arm out wildly. "The people needed to see that Loki would be punished for his crimes," Odin explained dropping his gaze from looking into Frigga's fiery eyes.

"And no good deed goes unpunished," Frigga spat. "You could have differed this...you could have granted him clemency!" the royal woman urged shaking her head.

"How could he have been granted clemency, Frigga, how after he committed the treasonous act of attempting to murder Asgard's queen? You do not realized the political upheaval there was as you lied in coma," Odin responded, his voice falling tender as he looked at his beloved once again she was healthy and strong, he reached out to clasp her fingertips in his large palms. For mere moments their skin touched before Frigga snatched her hand away from his. She took a step back looking at him with defiant disbelief.

"And he came back and he healed me," he voice rumbled as she reminded Odin of all the events that occurred. "He saved my life!" she warned raising a scolding finger toward the mighty ruler's nose. "He saved my life as he saved yours! When you lied helpless in the Oversleep and I was powerless to defend you against Laufey's brutality, Loki, Your son!" she hollered as she pointed toward the door, "He slayed him and preserved your throne," she reminded her husband desperately. Her voice was hoarse now from the cry she'd let out.

"He did that in a plot to murder that he'd planned!" Odin responded gripping Frigga be the shoulders.

The Queen of Asgard dropped her head, "Only to prove to you that he was a good son," the queen retorted jutting out her chin with a challenge. "All he wanted was for you to awaken and reassure him that he was your son and not the son of that Jotun monster..."

"You justify his terrible actions, he destroyed the Bifrost and would have killed the entire race," Odin pressed. Searching his wife's eyes.

"No, no, no, no, no, NO!" the queen muttered bitterly her lip poked and shaking, "I justify nothing. But what you have done,"

"I did it to protect Loki," the powerful ruler defended himself.

"Protect him," the queen shook her head scoffing. "Protect him. You have left him defenseless! You have stripped him of his very essence!" she balled bejeweled fingers into tight trembling fist. "What if that mad titan Thanos, comes to seek him out?
"That is exactly the reason it was necessary to perform the extraction, without his powers Loki will be of little use to Thanos, doubtless..."

"You know better than all of Thanos' ruthless ways think you that he will not try to harm Loki?"

"Perhaps not," Odin responded.

"you have... you...you have EXPOSED HIM!"

The great king of the golden realm relinquished his firm grasp on Frigga's forearm, "I did not think..."

"You did not think,"Frigga told him. "You have exposed him!" she went on throwing her hands up for a moment then bringing them back down clasped in prayer form as she pressed them to her heart. "Already I hear whispers," the queen mumbled furiously shaking her head. "How will he recover from this?" she spun around and face Odin requiring an answer of him. "How do you expect him to ever live a normal life in this realm again? Now that some say they have seen..."

"The rumors will die down," the king attempted to qualify, but he didn't know if he was reassuring himself or Frigga with the words he spoke. "I will release an official documentation dispersing the hearsay," the one-eyed monarch nodded, "We will keep Loki..."

"No," Frigga raised her hand silencing Odin's preparation. "No," she repeated sternly. "He has lost his sight!" she shouted to her husband. "You dare not keep him in that squalid dungeon while he is in this state," Frigga insisted.

"It is too dangerous for Loki to be kept with other prisoners, you know this," Odin implored his wife to see reason.

"He needs tending to," Frigga protested.

"Eir, Dagmar and the strongest of the healers on the team are all still incapacitated and need time to recover themselves since the extraction and none of the other healers in the realm would be strong enough to tend to Loki's needs," Odin explicated as he hung his head. "Though I have had a few diagnose a treatment,"

"Then I will go tend to him myself!" Frigga shot back defiantly as she turned on her heels starting to flee from the sauna,

Odin snatched her back by the wrist, "You know you cannot,"

"I Care not. You dare not leave our son to wallow and grind in that cursed dungeon alone. You move him to decent chambers and you get MY SON some help!" Frigga commanded with an authoritative finger wagging in his face. Her lip trembling after she gave her lord the tyrannical order. She bit deep into her, she dropped her head.

"Frigga," Odin spoke his wife's name gingerly. She waited not to hear his words, she turned from him. She could not recall another time she'd done so. She walk from his presence.

---

The court was full of gossip; the mildest of the comments said that Loki had died in the extraction tank, that the toxic ooze had saturated to deep into his porcelain skin, they said that Loki had always been sickly and frail and his body wasn't strong enough to fight against the toxins; others said that the extraction reversed and his body was infused with so much magic that his skin turned blue as a result. That was one that Lady Dagmar had tried to promote, but it was flimsy and didn't stick well amongst the courtiers, it wasn't a juicy enough to flourish and soon faded. The rumors became more vicious though. some said that was the punishment that Odin and Prince Thor had intended for Loki that he was to be condemned to live in the foul, disgusting body of a Jotun for the rest of his days. They thought it was befitting, he acted like a monster and so it was suitable that he be seen as one. The worse theory was the theory that housed the truth that Loki wasn't even an Asgardian Prince, that he was simply a Frost Giant. The royal family had done there best to dispel the gossip amongst the courtiers; saying that the extraction had unexpected results, but that Loki's magic had been successfully taken and he was under constant supervision as he made his slow recovery.

Still Prince Thor knew that such a vague official statement would not quell the wagging tongues of whispering noblewomen and chattering chambermaids and gossiping guards. No, what had happened in the extraction chamber would leak out. It would seep from the gilded halls of the palace and run down to the rainbow brick roads of the Imperial City. It would roll on to the small surrounding provinces and even to the country hillside until all Asgard was a flame with the secret. And that would bode ill for Loki. There would be no recovery from that. Even if Loki physically became well again after dealing with the terrible withdrawal symptoms that he was facing from magic extraction, even if somehow Loki returned to his sense; recanted and begged the all-father for forgiveness, even if Odin did forgive his son, even if he was willing to reinstate Loki as a Prince of Asgard, there was no way the people of Asgard would allow it. Thor shook his head as he leaned over the rail of his balcony. He imagined the courtyard once again being filled with enraged citizens, screaming, chanting, clamoring at the golden gates for justice to prevail in their fair kingdom. They would demand that Loki be banished if they didn't demand his death. They'd rail and raise their swords high declaring that no Jotun should ever be allowed to rear its blue head in Asgard. There'd be little choice for Odin but to banish him, but banish him to where? What realm would accept the monster? He could not live as a Frost Giant in Vanaheim, Nornheim or Alfheim, for they too feared Frost Giants even more so than probably the Asgardians did for their own armies were not able to stop the Jotun menace. On Midgard he'd surely bee persecuted, the dwarfs hated Loki for tricks he'd played on them in the past. If he was sent Musepelhiem he'd not survive. They couldn't send him to Jotunheim the Jotun's would kill him. Thor knew that Loki would have sooner chosen death than to have the people of Asgard see him as a monstrous Jotun for the rest of his days. If this rumor went to far, there would be no redemption for Asgard's once silvertongued prince. He needed to know how far the rumors were spreading.

The hour was late. Much later than the time that any highborn noble would be seen at a local tavern. It wasn't one of the high-end taverns, no just a popular pub where many merchants, sailors and artisans frequented. A tall figure cloaked in a navy blue cape entered into the tavern. He slunk in. Many a night he'd come into the pub bold as a lion, but tonight he wanted to be inconspicuous. He kept his hood up over his face, despite the fact the place was warm and cozy, the three hearths burned brightly and the sweet tempting smells of boar roasting over the open flame and suckling honeyed lamb being rotisseried wafted through the thick air. The local watering-hole was crowded, music was playing raucously loud by the pipers and tambourine players, the place smelt of smog, incense and ale. The voluptuous barmaids were doing a sensual dance on the stage flirting with the drunken patrons of the tavern. Normally the cloaked man would have enjoyed the moonlight special of free rounds of pints of ale and frothy grog, he would have been right along with the other drunkards hoots and hollering and tossing coins at the tavern wench who displayed the most cleavage while she filled his cup, but he was not there to make merry tonight, he'd come to gather information.

He sat down at the only unoccupied table in the establishment. He'd casually ordered a mug of strong mead from the stumbling cantina girl. He drank slowly trying not to allow the alcohol to take effect he needed his senses to be sharp to listen. The chattered swirled about high-pitched intoxicated laughs and wild heehaws, swearing and talk of many things that weren't of interest to the visitor in the blue cape.

"Aye, this seat taken mate?" a base voice with a dockside drawl asked as a meaty had clamped down on the shoulder of the tavern guest in the blue cape. The meaty hand followed by the chunky body leaned heavily on the shoulder and finally lost balance and slumped resting ruddy, dirty elbows on the wooden table. The man smelt strong of stale mead, and musk. The gentleman in the navy colored cloak kept his head down, raising bronzed fingers to tug the hood of the cape to further conceal his visage. He shook his head in a grunt to give an affirmative response. The grizzly looking sailor plopped down on the wooden stool opposite of the cloaked man. He laughed as he nearly slipped from the seat then raised his hand summoning for a barmaid.

"Whatta it be Gunnar?" an olive-skinned almond eyed bar wench as she strolled up to the table, nonchalantly, smacking her lips and she as she blew kisses at a table full of town watchmen.

"Ah," Gunnar cocked his already buzzing head to the side as if it was too heavy for him to keep it stable in the center of his body. "Whatdijah have, whatjah got there?" the round tattooed Viking asked to the only man at his table. "Huh? Huh? Huh?" he badgered.

"Trolls belly," the caped man replied simply as he slid his tankard across the table for the seafarer to take a look at. The scruffy dark-beared man took the mug and raised it to his nose, he sniffed it wildly and then brought it to his lips and took a large gulp before he slammed the mug back down on the table. The distinguished sound of the caped man's voice did not go unnoticed by the rugged Norseman. He was sure he'd heard it somewhere before, but his head was to full of alcohol to try and piece such matters together.

"I'll have the same!" he declared. The serving maid nodded turning on her heals to go and retrieve the drink, but not before Gunnar's grimy palm could give her behind a good slapped. He guffawed with abandon as he watched peasant girl flush and scurry off. He leaned back in his chair still fitfully giggling in his intoxicated state. "Best lookin' wenches this side of the city lad," Gunnar stated to the man sitting with him. He gave the hooded man a wink as the barmaid brought back a brew for him. He flipped a copper coin in her direction before winking at her, "Friendliest too," he continued talking to his drinking mate for the night before he puckered thick, purple tinted lips in the waitress' direction. She looked as if she was disgusted by the burly, sloppily dressed man's advances but she slipped the coin between her teeth the check that she wasn't being given a wooden nickel before letting it fall into her apron pocket. "If you know what I'm saying, lad," the man with braids in his long dark beard hinted. He took a swig from his mug and nearly downed all the contents in that first gulp. Then slouched down more in his seat and leaned his body back in the chair rocking it on the back legs. He allowed himself to sling his chubby arm, brown from poor bathing habits, to rest on his forehead as if he was exhausted after running a long race. As his fat arm dangled from his forehead the hooded man was able to get a better look at the tattoos that decorated his dirty flesh. He recognized the markings. The symbol of two gulls flying into the sunset. He was seafaring man indeed. A few names were inscribed on the skin near his elbow although the names were hard to make out because of the soot and soil on the arm. There was a viking style ship painted on his skin, with a great dragons head for the bow. He was a captain. A man who probably only made port in The Imperial City every month or so. "Sure taste mighty fine," he declared bringing a slobbery tongue to lick at the corners of his mustache before he leaned back over the table. "You been here before lad?" the regular customer probed.

"Many times," the tenor voice from behind the dark-blue hood replied. The hood was made of fine material. The design was plain, but the way it folded over the face to keep one hidden was not the way of most cloaks, that were used to shield a person from the elements. The fabric was deep blue like the salty sea, an expensive color. Perhaps this quiet lad was a wealthy merchant. A fellow sailor like Gunna who had made good fortune on the tides.

"Don't recognize ye," Gunnar began as he made his bleary eyes try to concentrate on the hooded man squinting to get a look at the face that the cloak concealed. But it proved to be too much trouble. "Yah seem t'be the type who likes to do his drinkin' all by ye lonesome," Gunnar went on.

The man in the navy blue began to look around a few new comers had just entered the tavern. It was one of Queen Frigga's waiting gentlewoman. The woman had a flowing sunlight mane, wideset amber eyes and an even broader grin that was infectious with merriment. She had a girlish, bubbly laugh. She was dressed in a lovely light pink chiffon gown, that had and embroidered design of rosebuds stitched on the skirt of the gown, sewn with an expensive looking gold thread. Sigyn. The man underneath the hooded cape fidgeted, anxiously tapping his bronzed fingertips against the table. What was she doing here? He had specifically picked this particular tavern because he was so sure none of the gentry would be here. It was a well-known tavern and earlier in the evening it would be frequented by wealthy guards and low ranking government officials, but after hours it was simply a commoner watering hole a place where lowlife, thieves and knaves could gather for a pint of ale and to pick up salty wenches. It was certainly no place where a lady of Sigyn's breeding should be after hours. Sigyn had a tendency to flaunt wealth. Whether she was at a palace banquet attending to the queen or whether she was in the market place she dressed with high fashion, ornaments in her hair, jewels on her fingers and in her ears. She had never been a particularly bright girl and it seemed as if she was just begging to be robbed. She was in male company. Lady Sigyn and her companion started making their way through the tavern; pushing through the throngs of drunkards. The hooded man sitting with Gunnar started to fidget.

Gunnar still talked wildly on and on. "My uncle was like that too," he expressed nodding as he looked into his mug that was empty. He tossed his head back and let out a jaunty laugh, "Drank himself to death that way!" Gunnar blasted and started banging tarred first on the table making both cups bounce until it seemed the would fall on the floor. Gunnar grabbed his goblet just before it hit the edge. "Not I though," he began before drinking again, "Not I...Is like to drink with someone," He smiled a friendly yet an unpleasant smile in the hooded man's direction. Gunnar's teeth were yellow and brown and a black whole or two could be spied within his mouth. Soon Gunnar noted that his drinking buddy was starting to leave the table and seemingly with some haste Gunnar's eyes bulged out his head thinking that he was loosing a drinking mate. He waved to a barmaid who quickly provided beverage refreshment to the table. He leaned his whole body, big belly included over the wooden table, grabbing the the caped man, by his sturdy, bronzed wrist.

"Psst, Psst," a strong-smelling seafarer whispered loudly into the cape man's face, holding his wrist steadfast, he could look up into the cape and he started to see the outline of the features, he thought he'd detected a nicely shaven golden beard.

"I must get going!" The golden bearded man stated harshly as he pulled his arm from grubby, meaty fingers

"Buttah wait!" Gunna sounded as if he was almost begging as his whole body seemed to lose balance not having the sport of the wrist. "hava yah hearrrrddd 'bouta da disgraced prince?" the redfaced sailor who was already down in the cups questioned still smiling up a like a child into the blackness of the hood.

The hooded man paused, just as he was starting to stomp away quickly from the table noting that it seemed as though the palace workers had found it as an available spot. But Gunnar's word's gave him means for pause, that was why he was here after all.

The hooded man slowly turned aroundn"Prince Loki?' he inquired arching his eyebrows where Gunnar could not see. Gunnar finally leaned back in his seat smug little grin playing over the thick lips between his bushy black beard and mustache. He waved the his tankard of ale tauntingly at the stranger in the dark blue cape. He watched the man plod his way back to the table sitting down and leaning over with interest.

Gunnar shoved the mug of ale back in the man's direction and effortlessly the cloaked gentleman caught it and brought it to his lips "Aye, data be da one," the drunken sailor giggled waving his tankard of ale about wildly, some of it spilled out and sloshed on the table.

"I've been curious, but I haven't heard a word about it. Seems the palace is keeping his condition under lock and key," The hooded man explained bringing his mug back down.

Gunnar guffawed loudly banging his fist like an ape on the table. "hahahah!" he roared the more. "Wherejah been at mate, livin under a rock?' he questioned indignantly, "words been buzzing around the streets like crazy," he went on.

"Guess I'm not in the right circles privileged to know," the navy blue cape went up as shoulders shrugged.

"Circles? Don't need no circles, don't you be around no folk...everyone is talking bout it," Gunnar elaborated.

"What? What?" a giggly voice interrupted the private conversation. "You talking about Loki?" a drunk female bar patron asked she tripped and stumbled her way over to the table. "My cousin works as a cook in the palace she told me he died,"

"Naw he ain't dead!" a bawdy voice countered her argument staggering over to the table.

"Soon will be!" another person interrupted.

"Serves 'em right! Serves 'em right!" several Asgardians from various tables began chiming in.

"Say I'll drink to the death of death of that animal!" A big man yelled out standing on the table waving his tankard about.

"Free rounds for all!" the tavern owner declared. The crowd broke into thunderous applause hoots and hollers at the proprietors generosity. They hoisted the man up in the air. He bounced on top of their shoulders as bar wenches began to graciously pour new helpings of liquor to the already intoxicated guests. "An on the day they execute that Jotun mongrel," the owner of the establishment continued as he felt himself being hoisted up and down. "It'll be all you can drink all day long!" the crowd cheered with abandon. "We'll celebrate the death of that Jotun monster in style!" he declared.

The hood shook back and forth, "You don't believe that do you?" the hooded man asked in earnest looking across at the drunken sailor. "Bit outlandish... Prince Loki being a Frost Giant and all"

"FA!" Gunnar scoffed slamming his tankard down and allowing the brown liquid to slosh out. "You say itaint true, but I heard it from a guard...what were there," Gunnar vowed. "Said they saw his skin turn to that of an ice giant. Said that they saying he's not even an Aesir! Not even a son of Odin. Bloody savage!" Gunnar spat. " I believe it to," Gunnar declared with a snort. "He aint never been a proper son of Odin to my liking... studying magic, no real son of Odin would take to such," Gunnar insisted as he guzzled more from his goblet. "Hope Odin let's the people drag his sorry carcass from the palace and into the arena, feed that dis-hic-dis-hiccupping Jotun to the Bilgeschnipes. How did that Jotun live amongst us all these years. Tricking us," he literally spat. "I'd love to slit his nasty blue throat. I fought in the great war, I did" the drunk sailor declared thumping his fist on his chest. "Saw Laufey with these, very eyes. Never seen such an ugly face. Never seen such a black heart," he went on shaking his head. "My troop was capture. "Laufey's men tortured us, picked us off one by one. We were a troop of 100 strong men, by the time the rescue party had found us," the gruff look Norse sailor stared into his cup. "I watched as Laufey froze my best friend the smashed him to bit," the dirty drunk shuddered. " I could do nothing to stop him." Gunnar's lip twist and he started simply pouring the liquor in his mug out the side letting it fall to the floor. "For the fallen boys," he announced mournfully, seeming as if he would break down and cry. He started to heave into a drunken blubber, but then the sadness lifted and rage once again filled his heart. "I wish they'd give the honor of first blood to me," the tattooed drunk growled he stared into the hood he could better get a glimpse of the features now they were kempt and fresh. "I'd gut that monster like a fish!" he declared pulling out a gnarled looking dagger with a hilt simply made of wood. He drove the dagger down on the table the dragged it through.

From beneath the cape the blonde-haired man seethed. He'd not even heard the rest of Gunnar's statements nor did he register the gestures of the man as he still puzzled over the fact that a guard had leaked this information. There had only been a handful of the most faithful and tempered of palace guards placed in the extraction chamber that day, who ever it was that had told of Loki's state would surely pay. They'd face a week in the stocks and a precedent would be set for any who followed in such practicing as gossiping about things they knew nothing about. He tried to picture who had been present during the extraction, but his mind had been such a blur it was filled with so many thoughts that day, so many worries and fears, so much guilt and anger and sorrow had consumed him he had not taken much note of those who had dragged Loki's nearly naked form before those members of Asgard's high counsel. Besides the guards had all been adorned in their armor. Their helmets had hid their faces making them anonymous statues of the power and might of the realm. "Which guard?" the hooded man demanded his voice rising with the harsh question.

"Huh?" Gunnar practically snorted as he lifted the daggers blade from the wood.

"Which guard," the caped man demanded once more. Gunnar looked as if he was getting sleepy a long night of mead could do such to a man, but before the stocky fellow could be allowed to slip into an alcohol induced slumber the cloaked man would have answers. He reached his hands out from under the folds of the cape his tanned, fingers wrapped around the dirty brown tunics that the viking wore. "You said a guard told you this, now who was it?"

"Don't know the name" Gunnar let a disgusting belch out and even though the face of the caped man was covered it didn't hid his nostrils from taking in the stench of the sailors breath.

"Well what do you know?"

"What's it to yah mate?" Gunnar asked back playfully his purple tinted lips fixed in a drunk smirk as he started to brush aside the fingers that held his collar.

The man in the navy blue hood pulled out a purse full of gold coins. He placed the silk holding purse down on the table and it shined with wealth that made Gunnar's sleepy eyes bat open. He looked up gaping into of blackness where the face was kept hidden. "What do you know?" the voice from behind the cape asked sternly sliding the pouch of gold coins forward. The pudgy, grubby hands reached forward and greedily snatched up the bag.

"It twas one well-known," Gunnar expressed. "I...I don't know the name I say, but it was a mighty warrior an Einherjar of high rank and one who rides out with Prince Thor many a battle." The words narrowed the number, but not by much Thor had many Einherjar who accompanied him on his journey's. "One of his boon companions," Gunnar whispered. "And a female," he snapped his dirty fingers trying to force himself to recall the name.

A rumble came from withing the hood of the cape. It sounded like an angry dog growling. "Sif"

---

Lady Sigyn tiptoed back to her quarters in those late hours of the night when she'd returned from tavern with Theoic. Her cheeks were all rosy with flush. Her stomach all a twitter with dancing butterflies and her feet felt light as air. She hadn't felt that way in such a long. Not since...Loki. Sigyn turned the corner to her where her bedroom was located. Before she had resides in the elaborate guest apartment in the West Wing, now her rooms were moved to the permanent dwellings in the south hall. She lavished chambers, though there were some nobles and foreign dignitaries who had nicer quarters than she, still she lived on the 10th floor with others who were handmaiden's of Queen Frigga's.

Sigyn reached her door, she was surprised not to hear laughter from drunk ladies in waiting taken with gossip and teasing of servants. She breathed a sigh of relief before entering her chamber. She immediately tossed off her rose-colored cloak. It had been a chilly night, but luckily her servant girl had lit the fire for her and settled a kettle over the open flames. Sigyn leaned her back against the deep brown wooden door. The blonde haired lady in waiting felt a small smile tug at her lips it wasn't just from the cozy atmosphere of her chamber or the delicious smell of the brewing pot of tea that made her smile, but tonight she had been proposed to.

Sigyn swooned, clutched her hands in prayerful fist to her heart the spun around with a giddy girlish excitement until she'd spun herself dizzy and tripping upon her own silk skirt she fell upon her bed. She laughed heartily as she found her body nestles amongst the soft linens and downed pillows. She rolled around like a child. She stopped herself from kicking off her boots and bouncing upon the bed. No she must be composed if she was to be a married woman now. She burst forth into another foolish set of giggles. Her stomach exploding with a thousand ticklish butterflies. A hope that she'd thought had now been long gone. She was sullied goods, a damsel of ill-repute who would want her for a bride after the fact that she had broken her betrothal vows with a prince and given her body to another?

It was an overwhelming proposition. She was ecstatic and yet dejected all at once. She didn't know why. This should be what she wanted. She should have agreed immediately to Theoic's proposal. After all these centuries since she'd been called a harlot and whore for the crime that he had agreed they'd committed together he'd come back to claim her as his bride.

But she hadn't done that. She'd screamed and cried and hugged him she'd even planted a kiss on him, but when he rose from bended knee saying that they should announce their soon to be nuptials to all present she'd hesitated. "There is nothing to fear now, sweet Lady Sigyn," Theoic assured her cupping her face. "Loki is no longer prince of Asgard, now I can make you my second wife without fear of occurring his wrath," he explained. She had never thought of being a man's second wife. It was such an old-time practice. It was not illegal, but certainly out of fashion. She hadn't heard of woman being taken as a second wife in quite sometime there were only 3 ladies amongst the gentry who she knew to be second wives and her mother had always looked on them as pitiable souls. Her mother would whisper to her and her sister that it was better to be left a rich widow than to be living as a man's second wife.

She knew what her father would say. He'd nearly command her to take Theoic on his offer. She'd never have another man ask for her hand in marriage. Theoic was the only man who could ever possibly want her. He was only making right the wrong they'd done by marrying her if they had indeed slept together. This could be her last chance, not to mention her father's last chance to collect a bride price for his foolhardy youngest daughter. As punishment for what had happened with Sigyn breaching her betrothal contract into the house of Odin, her father had been forced to pay triple the bride price that Loki had been expected to pay for Sigyn to the house of Odin. The penalty was so steep, it had nearly driven her family to bankruptcy, but it was either pay up of have all of them go to debters prison to work off the fee. In the end most concluded that the family got off rather mildly, for lawfully Sigyn could have been stoned to death. Her Father had been willing to disinherit her if it had meant that he could come back in good standing with the all-father once more. He was willing to put Sigyn away to give her as a priestess to serve at the Valkyrie Temple far in the floating islands of Asgard, but Sigyn had not been gifted with the aptitude for a life of study. The only reason she had even been provided with all of her lovely evening gowns, expensive jewelry, rare and ornate rugs and tapestries was because the Queen of Asgard had requested her presence as an attendant. She wished to please her father, to fall back with in his good graces once more. She would never forget the look of fury that welled in his eyes as she confessed to him that she'd slept with Prince Loki before their wedding night. The harsh way his hand had struck her as if she was an errant child when she told him honestly that she'd performed an act of consummation before they'd ever made vows. The cruel words that had spewed at her in his horror at her deeds. He couldn't even bring himself to look at her in the days that followed. She had dishonored her house and dishonored herself. She wanted to fall within her father's good graces again, she hated feeling like he'd put her away but still even if it would please her father she wasn't sure she could agree to Theoic's proposal. She didn't know if she could be his second wife.

A second wife was little better than a concubine, a mistress. It felt like she wasn't even a wife at all. She'd be entitled to little. She wouldn't be at Theoic's side if he attended state functions and realms forbid Theoic die she wouldn't be left the full widows sum. Her children would receive secondary inheritances to those of his first wife. She would hate to think that her sons or daughters would not have the chance to be presented at court and dress in the latest trends.

Also there was the fact that Theoic lived in the country. She was not a woman fashioned for rolling hills or running plantations. She'd lived in the Imperial City her entire life which had spanned 1000 years. She loved the excitement of the metropolis, the extravagant banquets, and illustrious balls, the entertainment of the nights on the town, the lavished market places and the fashion. How would she know which garments were in season living so far away from the fashion forward courtiers?

Although, the thought of being pulled out from the gorgeous glittering imperial city nearly made her sick to her stomach. There was something worse. The fact that her husband could love another. It had been painful enough with Loki. She had given herself body and soul to Loki and in the moments when they'd made their most passionate love, he'd called out another name. She thought of the beautiful words that Loki had spoken to her in midnight sessions when their bodies were one. Those words were so passionate so laced with love, they'd made her cry. The kisses and caresses had been so gentle, yet so intense and full of longing that she felt needed and desired, but all that had never been meant for her. It was still a dagger in her heart. She couldn't imagine that being her whole life.

She was attracted to Theoic that was true. He was a handsome man and although this was not an ideal scenario it still offered some promise, she would no longer be floating on the queen's charity, she could once again regain some honor for her family by marrying a wealthy man and collecting a bride price. She could be married to a kind man and have children. She was knew she was not bright but she chided herself for her dumbness for not running off with Theoic right away She was a fool of a girl for clinging to silly fantasies that would never ever come true. She didn't love Theoic...she still loved...thought she always would love...

Pip-pip-pip, quick soft knocks came to Lady Sigyn's door. He large gold eyes darted up from staring at her expensive jewelery. She placed her bangles, broaches, necklaces and rings on the counter top of her night stand. The rapping continued at the door, the raps were incessant and rapid like the thumbing foot of a fleeing rabbit. "Yes," Sigyn answered the door huffily as she flung it open. She was shocked to find a woman in a luxurious pearl and silver nightgown standing at her door. The woman had hair the color of a ripe for harvest wheat field. She brought her eyes up to meet with Lady Sigyn's and Sigyn stared into the endless sapphire sea that they were.

"Your majesty!" Sigyn gawked nearly choking being so surprised to see the queen at her doorstep. "I...I...I," she sputtered as she watched the queen raise her head and give a soft smile in the direction of the lady in waiting. Seeing the queen's pleasant demeanor Sigyn immediately remembered her courtly manners and dipped into a low curtsy. 'My lady," she replied with her head bowed.

"Hello Lady Sigyn," the wife of Odin greeted regally. "Do pardon my intrusion at this late hour," the queen began. "I hope you weren't sleeping," the female ruler began bringing a quizzical blonde eyebrow to arch up at her lady in waiting.

"N-n-no Ma'am," Sigyn responded. Sigyn lifted her head and the elevated her body, "Oh no...no no no no, your majesty," Sigyn insisted waving her arms wildly in an almost apologetic manner. Queen Frigga managed to bring her lips into a curved smile as she watched her handmaiden sputter about. Sigyn was a sweet girl. "It is I who should be apologizing to you my lady,I thought that Lady Tyra was your attendant this evening. I'm so sorry highness the palace has been in such an uproar of late and I am...well my head is in another place." Sigyn went on, "Please forgive me," she apologized once more. She dipped her head low and her long golden wheat colored bangs fell long in her honey hued face, "do you need something?" she muttered quietly barely bringing her amber eyes to face the queen.

"Yes as a matter a fact I do," Frigga stated in a hushed tone her sapphire eyes darted to the ground and around the room making sure that Sigyn wasn't entertaining anyone.

"I am here to serve you, your highness," Lady Sigyn insisted with a curtsy dropping all the way to her knees.

"May I come in?" the royal woman asked out of courtesy a small smile was planted on the queen's gracious lips.

"Of course, my queen, forgive me...you need not ask... come in do come in," Sigyn offered a sweeping bow showing the queen in. Queen Frigga nodded politely as she entered the bedchamber. She lifted the sheer silver slip of her nightgown exposing bedazzled silver slippers. Sigyn followed tentatively behind pulling out one of the finely upholstered chairs for the wife of the great king to sit on. "May I offer your ladyship some tea and crumpets?" Sigyn went on nervously bring a shaky tray over to the queen.

"No thank you, dear Sigyn," the queen waved off the offer. "Please, please come sit," she beckoned her waiting woman. Instantly Sigyn cast the tray and china aside, practically tossing the exquisite dishes on to her bed.

The golden-haired Aesir noblewoman took a seat like an obedient dog on the her bed opposite to where the queen was sitting. "Yes your highness," Sigyn nodded.

"I have something to request of you," Lady Frigga began slowly placing her hands in her lap. She had pulled out a cream-colored handkerchief and steadily twisted it in her lovely hands. "I only ask this...and I know that what I ask... it is great..." she started to shake her head as she felt her voice start to quiver, she brought her hand up to her throat. "I say all this to mean I believe I can trust you," Frigga's blue eyes to stare into Sigyn's liquid gold eyes.

"I know not what to say, milady," Sigyn could not bring her amber pupils to look into Frigga's sparkling royal blue eyeballs any longer, she broke her glance and looked down at the ground. Surely she was unworthy of the queen's trust. She could not even trust herself. She was had no recollection of being unfaithful to Loki during their time of betrothal, but yet others testified against her swearing that they had seen her consorting with men at hours that were unacceptable. She was a silly harlot, she twisted from the queen's kind gaze.

Queen Frigga could see the shame written plan as day across Lady Sigyn's lovely tanned face. Odin had pressed for Loki to propose to the daughter of the respected retired naval officer. She had told Loki that it was unseemly for him to court a woman for so many years with no intention of proposing and making her a bride. Loki had expressed time and time again that he did not love Sigyn. Loki told them that Sigyn was a twit of maiden, who made tree stumps seem intelligent. She had scolded him for his harsh and disrespectful words against a lady of Asgard. She took up for her younger son, she knew that the golden locked maiden was not Loki's intellectual peer. It wasn't that she disliked Sigyn, of the contrary, she liked her very much she was a tender-hearted girl, manner, and submissive those were amiable qualities for a princess of Asgard to have, but still she hated to think of Loki being saddled into a marriage contract with someone he didn't truly love. In the end she knew it would end badly for both parties. She pleaded for Odin not to force Loki. Still, months later Loki had taken to proposing to Admiral Arn's pretty daughter. When the news came out that Sigyn had been with another man they were all stunned. It wasn't that the queen did not believe the reports but something had always seemed misplaced.

"What is it that Your Majesty requests of me, I do not wish to lose your trust," Sigyn whispered her eyes still down cast.

Frigga breathed in and nodded, "Loki, my son has become gravely ill since the extraction. I fear...I fear that he will not survive much longer in the state he is in without immediate care," the queen of the golden realm urged.

Finally Sigyn brought her liquid gold eyes to meet her queen's gaze she was sure that they both wore the most stricken of expressions. Sigyn started to say something her lips moving rapidly for a few seconds before she found her voice. "What...what can I do, your majesty...I am no healer, I know so little about herbs and mixtures, I grow faint at merely the sight of blood. Surely Mistress Eir, she...she should tend to Loki," Sigyn insisted waving her hands and shaking her head vigorously in refusal. "She is the greatest healer in all of Asgad surely you would want her..."

"The Extraction has left Mistress Eir very ill as well... her healing crystal broke causing her to become exposed to some of the toxins inside the Extraction Solution.

"But surely there are many healers..." Sigyn continued.

"All of our strongest medicine men and women were used for the extraction all have suffered greatly from the procedure, many our still unconscious sick with fever. The healers not sick our busy tending to them. Although none have suffered as badly as my son," the queen expressed bitterly, her rose-tinted lips curling with repulsion as she said it. Sigyn watched helplessly as the Queen's eyes were infused with tears, by sheer instinct she brought her hand to cup the queen's tightly balled fist. Frigga looked back at her youngest Lady-in-Waiting, she brought her right hand up it was beset with jewels and patted Sigyn's warm fingers. "Lady Dagmar, poor child is bedridden, but she prescribed these remedies," The queen explained in a breathy voice. She rolled back her royal robe revealing a small brown bag made of smooth leather. "It will at least keep Loki from being in such excruciating pain she said," The queen seemed hopeful. 'I have also provided a few other herbs that I have gotten from my personal apothecary, things to help his mind... Loki is delirious and frantic...I...I would go to him myself Lady Sigyn, but I cannot bear to see him like that," The blue eyes queen shook her head, her breath hitching as she drew her hand away from covering Sigyn's and to her chest. "I am his mother...I cannot." Odin's wife's words were nothing but a murmur. "I ask you because...I know you have always truly cared for my son, Loki," Frigga whispered as a tear rolled down her cheek and she brought her hand to cup Sigyn's chin.

---

"Keep the liquor coming boy," Sif called over her shoulder a bright smile plastered on her face as she was engaged in an arm wrestling match with one of the new guards. He was a big, strong-looking young man with strapping biceps the color of the richest farm soil. She laughed heartily feeling her arm start to give a little as the young soldier pressed his advantage. "It's gonna be a long night," she groaned feeling the weight of bicep against her wrist. A round cup-bearer nodded eagerly to Lady Sif's command and brought a fresh pitcher to pour into her glass.

"Give it to her! Give it to her Eryk!" cheered a group of warriors who were no longer rookies.

"What are you tryna do, get this lad slaughtered before he ever sees the battlefield?" Inquired a long time palace guard as he stood by and gathered in the circle with the other spectators. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at his friend. "I've never seen a warrior this day who can best Lady Sif," he explained.

"Shh, shh" his friend encouraged. "Now I know that and you know that, but these cocky new recruits don't know a thing, I love to make sport of 'em, eh?" the older guard expressed. His companion nodded.

"Go! Go boy!" he started to whoop raising his fist along with the other 2 or 3 dozen who were watching the match.

"I got money riding on you, Eryk!" and random voice called from the crowd.

Eryk grinned pass the strain it took him to press the female warriors forearm down toward the table. 'You know I feel bad fighting a lady," the brown skinned warrior with thick curly locks expressed through his gritted teeth.

"Aww," Sif cooed, "I so do I," she teased and winked. The crowd heard her slight dig and they jeered the more.

The prideful young soldier growled. "That's it," He declared as a bead of perspiration started to slide down his brow, "I'm not taking it soft on you any more, Lady Sif," Eryk grunted biting his lip and leaning in harder in his attempt to push Sif's arm to the table.

"Give it to her! Give it to her, lad! I heard Lady Sif likes it rough!" Frandal's playful voice echoed out amongst the newly recruited warriors assembled in the low ranking mess hall.

Sif looked up her mahogany eyes scanning their way over the sea of brass helmets, "Frandal when I am done with him I shall have your tongue in front of all these fellows!" Sif threated. Frandal's mouth immediately began to feel sore.

Sif's wrist got closer and closer to brushing against the wooden table. Eryk let out a confident laugh, "Lady Sif, you may forget the money wager," He stated to her in a voice that was still loud enough for all gathered to hear.

"Oh really?" the shield maiden arched her dark brow and took her free hand to reach for her freshly filled glass of wine. Her fingers skimmed at the glass.

"Aye," Eryk declared licking thick lips as he got an eyeful of Lady Sif. Her fearsomeness as a warrior was always the talk of the town, but no one had ever mentioned how attractive she was as a woman. To court Asgard's fiercest female warrior would be quite a prize. "Once I win," he boasted giving his full mouth one more clean swipe with his tongue. Sif winced and then rolled her eyes at the forward gesture. "You can just plant a big kiss on my lips, right here," the fresh from training soldier offered. He raised his earthy colored finger to point to his well moistened mouth.

A small coy smile spread across Lady Sif's face. Her deep brown eyes softened as she brought her tanned hands to rub against his scruffy, peach fuzz of a beard. "Aww you don't have to wait until you win," she cooed softly leaning her lovely face into that of the new recruit. He grinned foolishly back at her.

"No?" The young soldier got giddy laughing foolishly back in the shield-maiden's face.

"No," Sif spoke back her voice coy and her tone lilted as she twisted the tip of her long nails through his curly-cue black facial hair. "Just," she paused allowing her tongue to linger on the "s" sound and she bent over bringing her face close to his, "Just until Ragnarok!" She hissed in his ear before immediately twisting her hand and his wrist. Eryk squealed and squirmed in pain from her vicious move, but that was only momentarily until he felt not only his forearm, but his entire body found its way to collide with the table top. The crowd roared of guffaws, hoots and hollers. The two seasoned palace guards bent over and slapped their knees.

Sif raised a warriors triumphant fist into the air as she gathered the applause from the new recruits. She drank it up with greedy revelry with just as much gusto as she consumed the rest of contents in her goblet. Eryk managed to peel himself up off the table his shoulder blades aching and stiff from just having his body hit wood. He pushed through the gang of young swordsmen and palace staff head hung. A few clapped him on the back, "Better luck next time Eryk," they jeered. "Better you than me, Eryk, me lad." they continued as he rushed through the crowd grumbling trying to reach the exit.

Lady Sif stood up from the table noting that her chalice was empty she poured it upside down and noted the last red drip hit the cedar wood floor. She frowned then smiled as she sauntered away from the table and parted the crowd to make her way to the bar. Sloppily the might warrior woman tossed her hand over the counter demanding another glass. "Sif!" Thor bellowed his voice loud as a roll of thunder overhead, instantly his massive hand laid hold of her strong shoulder plated with silver armor. He stomped toward her furiously his imposing presence parting the crowd.

"Thor!" Sif's voice actually squeaked out a yelp as Thor's mighty hand spun her around to face him. He clamped his other hand down on her shoulder to hold her in place. She smiled uncharacteristically bright at him her cheeks reddened from much alcohol. For a minute she collected herself. Remembered that she was a warrior of Asgard and not supposed to give into such schoolgirlish tendencies a grinning like a fool at a long time crush, besides the gorgeous blonde did not return the expression. Sif shook her head and wiped the silly smile off of her face with the swipe of her wrist against her cranberry lips. "Come to help me and Frandal whip these boys into shape?" she waved the hand with the silver goblet wildly toward the crowd of eager boys fresh from basic training.

"What have you done Sif?" Thor rumbled his blue eyes looking deep into Sif's deep-set brown eyes. Her eyes only held his gaze for a moment before they faltered and she broke into a smug little grin.

She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, "Besides beating that young upstart?" Lady Sif inquired tossing a thumb at the young knight Eryk who was still being teased about thinking that he could best Lady Sif. She laughed and threw a playful punch at Thor's strapping shoulder.

"No Sif," Thor declared staunchly, still holding her firmly in place, "What have you done?" he questioned more boldly with his jaw clenched. "What have you been telling the people?" he asked. His tone low and dark his gold brows starting to knit together.

The brunette shield-maiden swatted at the golden locked prince. "What have I been telling people about what?' she asked with confusion.

"What have you been telling people about...Loki?" Thor whispered.

"Loki," Sif spat the once prince's name as if she'd just tasted bad wine. "That monster," she snarled, she looked down at the goblet and tossed it back behind the bar it clattered against the mantle above the hearth. She vehemently swiped her hand over the bar top counter, violently knocking over the vials and glasses and mugs full of other people's drinks. The liquids poured like a flood onto the floor. The serving girls and cupbearers who were working behind the counter were startled by the outburst. "THAT FROST GIANT!" she hollered turning back around to Thor. She leaned in his face, he breath ragged and hot on his skin, her body trembling with anger and her face exploding into a crimson color with rage. She was making a scene and so naturally heads turned toward the commotion. All of a sudden the room that was once filled with raucous laughter and chants fell silent. One mention of a Frost Giant and all of Asgard's hairs stood on edge. The very thought of the icy creature could still a squadron of mead soaked squabbling soldiers or quiet the mouths of chatty courtiers, it could frighten children into their beds. Immediately, Prince Thor clapped his bejeweled hand over Sif's cranberry painted lips. He gave her a stern glare. Not the type of look exchanged between lifelong friends and bosom comrades in battle. It was the glance of a monarch toward a subject who he was gravely displeased with. Sif who never faltered in battle, Lady Sif who never batted an eyelash in the face of danger fidgeted under the weight of Thor's mallet wielding hands. She knew how strong he was. She had seen him wrestle a giant with his bare hands, but never had she felt the power of his muscles on herself as now. As if he was restraining himself, if he just pressed at her lips a little harder, if he just held her biceps a smidgen tighter, he'd be hurting her. It made her feel weak, fragile...like a lady.

Thor pulled his hand away from her mouth and let his mighty tanned hands fall limply at his side; perhaps he could feel the dozens of eyes on him and lady Sif or perhaps he simply heard her light bones creak, either way he released her. He dropped his head and blew breath from puckered fleshy lips. He looked up at the crowd who looked pensive and on edge. "Cupbearers!" Thor announced his voice jaunty and jovial. "Bring forth the best ale from my cellar!" he instructed pinning the pudgy cupbearer who'd been assigned to him. "We must treat these fine young people who join the company of those great heroes of old!" he hailed. The silence was done away with immediately as the crowd roared with thunderous applause. The cupbearers snapped to it; rushing from the mess hall to the cellar to gather tankards of well aged ale. The minstrels continued to play on and sights were turned from the shield-maiden who let the dreaded word slip from her lips.

"Let us talk in private," He urged barely moving his lips as he spoke. He reached out his strong hand once more to catch Sif by her shoulder. She twisted from the hold with ease and Thor was nearly shocked by the embittered look radiating out of her brown eyes.

" Tis no need," she shot as she looked him up and down lip curled as she looked him up and down. "I need not be debriefed," she stated arrogantly raising her intoxicated head high, "I know what I saw," the whispered back at Thor bringing reddened mahogany eyes to search through the blonde prince's endless sky colored pupils.

Thor shook his head bridging the gap between them easily with one smooth stride. "You're drunk, Sif," he admonished quietly placing a gentle hand on her upper arm. "And you don't know what you are talking about," Thor insisted patiently as he wrapped his other hand around her wrist.

'I know what I saw!" She hollered once more and Thor immediately retracted his hand seeing the furious way she snarled. "I saw his body when you pulled him from the extraction tank," she stated, her voice was quiet but it held no less contempt

"It" the eldest son of Odin started.

"it was blue!" she shouted. "You dare deny it!" she countered.

"it was simply a reaction to the extraction, you know how dangerous it was said to be."

"I saw the strange carving cut into his flesh," she retorted leaning her face in close to Thor's as she stuck out her chin boldly. She lost her balance as she was standing on her tip-toes to make it so she and Asgard's now only prince were nearly at eye level. She fell into Thor's large chest, normally she would have allowed herself to linger on his body just a little longer than necessary so that she could feel his well chiseled muscles bulge with each breath or so she could hear the rhythm of his heart resound like a beating brass drum from beneath his breastplate or even to simply catch a whiff of his scent. After a battle they all smelt the same. They all reeked of the blood and guts, sweat and cannon smoke, but on nights like these when they'd been relaxing in the palace she could smell him smelling like prince, his natural musk would mingle with the scent of the expensive cologne that was imported from the farthest corners of the nine realms. He would douse himself in a scent that smelt of sage and saffron of the warmth of leaves on the logs burning on the hearth. He'd smell so good. But she had no thought of inhaling his pleasant aroma now, she was far to angry for that. She pushed herself from off top of him forcing herself to stand as flatfooted as possible in her intoxicated state. "Please!" Sif scoffed tossing back her head and guffawing loudly and humorously. She quickly whipped her head back up and glared at Thor. "You think I don't know a Frost Giant when I see one?" She nearly screamed. "That monster has lived among us all this time. Sat in the palace and people were expected to pay homage to him!" she ranted on. "Well no more! No more." she formed her hand into a fist. "I'd see that monster dragged out the city and stoned before I'd see anymore of his lies and trickery deceive us!" Sif continued speaking vehemently against Loki. The female warrior was for overcome that Thor watched with amazement as tears tumbled from the hardened soldiers deep earthy eyes.

"Sif stop, stop, stop," Thor shook her gently, "It was no trick or deception on Loki's part...Loki was a child... he was just a child brought here and raised as an Aesir babe would be raised," he looked her straight in the eyes entreating her to understand. "He never knew... he never knew, Sif. It is only the very knowledge of this that has driven Loki to become what he has," Thor explained and clutched her shoulder with a firmer hold.

Lady Sif's deep berry red lips still twisted as she heard Thor's words, "The people of Asgard have a right to know that Loki's monstrous act come from his true heritage. Jotun scum!" she spat.

"NO!" Thor squeezed the muscle on Sif's shoulder. Sif's shoulders were not those of a soft and dainty damsel who spent her days doing needlepoint of playing a harp, the were the toned muscles of warrior of Asgard, but still Sif winced as Thor's thumb and fingers squeezed tight. It was a reflex from the urgency he felt over the matter, but quickly he released her. "No," he muttered humbly dusting off her shoulder as if a physical attempt to apologize for her discomfort. 'No one has the right to know. You are helping to fan the fires of these rumors and you will make it impossible for him to belong again..."

"Belong again! He never belonged!"

"Don't say that! Loki was your prince." Thor spoke up.

Lady Sif snorted. "No Frost Giant will ever be my prince," she proclaimed

"He was your friend then," Thor implored her searching her deep mahogany eyes trying to find any semblance of compassion for Loki. Sif shook her head not wanting to hold Thor's gaze any longer. His eyes were brimming with tears same as her's, but the reasons were different. Her's were tears a hot fury and deep seated hatred and prejudice long planted in her for the Jotuns. They were monsters. Horrible monsters who had blood lust and ravaged the worlds for no reason but for sick pleasure. They'd taken the lives of innocent mortals and they'd taken the lives of Aesir men and women for sport. Yet here one had been amongst her. He'd sat in her presence, they'd held hands, shared beverages, shared in the glory of battle, he'd saved her life on more than one occasion and she'd saved his. She'd called him 'sire, highness' albeit with disdain and contempt, but still she'd said it, he was such a smartalick little brat, but still she'd cared for him...she'd called him friend. She'd bowed to him. Water bubbled and ran over her cheeks. "Sif, please" Thor called to her. "I need you to help dispel these rumors which you have started," Thor expressed.

"It will not stay secret. Whether they hear it from me or another people will find out what he is! No Frost Giant can live here in Asgard. And that's what he is. His soul black as his nails and his heart cold as Frost Giant skin. Children have begun to fear him as an evil prince, but now he shall plague their nightmares as the monster from every bedtime story," she went on.

Thor's bright blue eyes grew wide as if he was stricken with fear like her was hearing a curse being placed up his brother. "ENOUGH!" he roared. "You will say no more," the Crown Prince of Asgard commanded. Sif started to purse her lips back to form a protest. "NO MORE!" he thundered. His voice rumbling over the noisy room of drunken soldiers and intoxicated maidens. Sif drew in a sharp breath hearing Thor live up to his name and call down the thunder as he raised his voice. Perhaps the mead had gotten to her limbs and that was why her knees quaked at his eruption. "You will say no more about this," Thor spoke quietly as he released her shoulder to straighten his garment. "Not you or anyone else will be allowed to speak of such matters. I will send forth a decree that any courtier who is caught discussing such matters will face a moon cycles time in prison," Thor informed her his voice stern and his eyes looking into hers through the soul.

"I'd face prison for a month before I'd see that monster try to resume lordship here in Asgard. He is truly a monster and deserves death!" she spat.

The blue-eyed son of Odin sighed and swallowed hard he rubbed thick palms on his pants, "well that could be arranged, Sif," He spoke softly, but it wasn't a threat, his blue eyes looked up at the shield-maiden with boyish desperation. "I'm asking you as a friend..." he began his breath hitching as he pleaded.

Lady Sif broke from looking into Thor's wide puppy dog azure pupils. They pulled on her feminine heartstrings. She hated when he was hurt. She shook her head. "I c-cannot," she announced simply allowing her head to fall but for a moment her dark brown hair covering her cheeks and she was grateful for it. It hid her tears. She knew there was a reason that she had avoided getting this drunk for a while. It always turned her into a gushing sot. "I have a sworn duty to protect Asgard," Sif began again raising her head and looking at Thor with reddened eyes.

"You spreading these rumors will not protect Asgard it will only incite panic! Do not make things hard for Loki, Sif" Thor pressed. "He's suffered enough. Losing his magic... Loki may not even survive through the night," the now single prince of the realm warned. He watched Sif's face contort. She actually looked pained at the thought. "The though that everyone knows what he is will mean that he can never be restored," Thor explained best he could.

"I cannot..."

"it is no longer a request Sif," Thor looked back up at her hearing that she was about to form an argument. "It is a command," He pinned her with a stern glare. "You will enforce this new decree..."

"Or?" the shield-maiden challenged her prince a brunette eyebrow cocked in a defiant arch along with her lips into snarl.

"Or," Thor voice snapped from the soft tone into something that was more solid, the voice of a king. "You will be relieved of your status as Warrior of Asgard," He threatened his golden flint fixed like a stone.

Sif's glassy brown eyes became wide, her mouth dropped open and hung for a moment as she saw he was unflinching and his command would not change. She shut her mouth, her teeth clapping as she did so. She felt her bottom lip start to quiver. She fixed it firm, she was too much of a warrior for such an act. "Fine." She acknowledged with a nod. "As you wish," she hissed. "Your majesty," she said with spite. She clapped her right fist across her breastplate and to her heart. She dipped her knee ever so slightly before straightening back up again to stand to full height. She narrowed her eyes and brushed her shoulder roughly against Thor's as she drunkenly stumbled out of the mess hall.

Sigyn entered the room with fear and trembling. The cell was pitch-black and freezing. She felt her tanned hand along the wall trying to get her bearings in the containment chamber. Immediately, she drew her hand back from the wall. It felt like ice. It was so cold inside the cell that she felt as if she was standing on a snowy mountaintop in the nude. Her whole body was racked with shivering. She could not stop herself from quivering like a leaf whipped about in a winter windstorm. Her teeth chattered the point that they started to ache. She brought up her hands to rub against her shoulders as she eagerly tried to warm herself. Her knees knocked together beneath her thin nightgown, but she knew that she wasn't just shivering because of the frigid temperatures of this dank and lowly prison. She was petrified. Her heart accelerated til it seemed like a million horses where trying to stampeded out of the center of her chest. She knew not what to expect from Loki. All the way down to the dungeon she'd heard his horrible wails of anguish. He screamed like, a mad animal a creature that was miserable and outside of its mind. The guards had said he'd been howling like a banshee since he was brought down to this holding after the extraction. They said he yelled all day and night. They said they heard him clawing at the walls like a rabid beast desperate for escape. They said they heard him flinging himself about, slamming himself against the floor. When she asked why they hadn't gone in there to assist him they replied that all-father had ordered that no one go in there and see Loki. Besides after what Loki had done to Ingvar and the guards sent in after him they were too afraid. They cautioned Sigyn not to enter. She could still hear the scoffing voice of the head guard who monitored the hallway that lead to Loki's cell. He said that she couldn't go in there, that Loki would rip her to shreds. Sigyn was horrified she was a honey hued woman, but she knew after hearing the guards words it was no doubt that she'd drained white as a ghost. Still, she pressed on. Queen Frigga had asked her personally. It was a request given out of trust.

The room was arctic in temperature and the darkness that it was encased in only made Loki's hair-raising screaming all the more frightening. It didn't cease. He yelled as if someone was driving a stake through his heart. It made her blood turn cold to hear such agonizing cries. She was amazed the his hollering had not caused the glass encasements that guarded him had not shattered. She was in awe of the fact that he did not scream himself into laryngitis. The guards had mentioned that there was a lighting fixture inside the cell, but they had been kept off being as though the extraction had caused Loki to lose his sense of sight and he was extremely sensitive to light. The guards had thought that keeping him in the dark would calm him down stop him from screaming so, but it hadn't he was still frenzied and panicked.

Timidly, Sigyn lifted her lone candle a little higher into the air to try and disperse the darkness that engulfed the chamber. The small flame did little to counter the black atmosphere of the cell, but it allowed her to get a glimpse of a tortured looking shadow. The body was contorted as it writhed in pain in the corner to the far right of the cell. The figure twisted and twitched uncontrollably, convulsing and fidgeting in ways that made her skin crawl. He looked like a sick and squirm, long insect as she caught glimpses of his shadow his body limbs jetting out and wriggling about without ceasing. She watched in horror as bony fingers reached up into the air desperately grasping at nothing as if trying to pull down help from on high. He twisted and flipped on his side curling up into a tiny little ball his awful yelling giving way to pitiful sobs. He sobbed so hard and loud it was a painful despairing cry. He wallowed on the floor in freakish misery. So consumed with pain. The Withdrawal from magic was taking a devastating toll on him. It was so excruciating, he felt like his blood was on fire, it burned all the way through driving him mad. He couldn't think straight, his mind simply had one thought and focus trying to escape the suffering that had been forced upon him. His head throbbed. The pain unbearable and never ending that he was driven to simply beating his cranium against the tile that made up his floor. Over and over he drove the back of his head against the harsh cement. Sigyn shuddered as her pretty honey colored eyes took in such a gruesome sight. "NO! NO! I...PLEASE!" he screeched frantically, "I wannitback Iwannitback Iwannitback," he muttered helplessly as he went into another frightening seizure before her eyes. He went on kicking about wildly feet and fist pounding the dirty tile floor like a tantrum throwing toddler. "I CAN'T SEE! I CAN'T SEE!" He yelled over and over until she could hear his voice become raw from the strain of bellowing continuously. He thrashed she could hear as his body banged against floor and wall it sounded like ice grating on ice. She wanted to rush to him and ease his discomfort for but a moment, but somehow she was paralyzed with fear as she heard him wail as if he'd been struck by lightning. She fell upon her knees placing the candle to the side and covering her ears she could bear no more of this. Sigyn felt as though she watched him squirm and writhe in pain for hours until the cries grew softer and softer, he'd screamed until there was no voice left with in him.

The only sound in the room was a heaving gasp as the once powerful mage scrambled to suck in air. He sounded as if he was hyperventilating. That went on for quite a while. She wanted to do something. She cursed herself for not have studying more in her basic healing classes, for she knew not what to do for him. Eventually even Loki's static breathing came to a halt. Finally, after many moments has passed, Sigyn suspect Loki had fallen asleep. Perhaps if he was sleeping she would be able to administer the medications to him that Frigga had her personal apothecaries prescribe. She straightened herself up and pulled the small tan colored sack from out of the folds of her golden cape. She reached for the candlestick placed to her right-hand side. Her wrist quivered as she tried to it. She was so fearful that she couldn't even bring herself up off of her knees. So like a babe she scooted closer to the corner where Loki lay in a twisted ball.

As she inched her way closer to his limp heap of a form a terrifying thought shot through the back of her mind. She gulped feeling her palms moisten. What if... what if he was dead? Her breathing quickened. All had said that Loki's chances of survival were little to none. She'd heard the harrowing way he'd been roaring, how could anyone survive such. She felt as if she would weep. She'd loved Loki so. She had wanted to share in his life. Now she was simply to be a witness to his death. Her eyes pricked with moisture. If he was dead...he had died in the most pitiful of ways. He'd died a pathetic and broken man. He'd died stripped of everything he knew and loved. He'd died a wretched prisoner, with no rights, freedoms or dignities. He'd died like a rat in a cage. He'd died alone. Granted she was present, but she had not made her presence known. Loki had died wailing and howling, groping and writhing like a worm on its belly without even the knowledge that another soul in the Nine Realms was with him. He had no glory come to him in death which was what every Asgardian wanted. He'd not died a warriors death. Loki died with no glory. He died with no comfort. Sigyn thought that was an even worse way to die than without honor. He'd died without knowing that a soul in the world cared for his life. He'd not felt the touch of a warm hand on his brow or lips kiss his forehead or even to hear anothers voice in his ear whispering "I love you." Poor Loki. If only she could have said those words to him one last time.

She choked out a sob feeling awful for how cowardice had kept her from giving comfort to a dying man, a man that she loved without any sense of reason. As she started to weep a new thought engulfed her mind. If Loki was dead...then this room had no windows. Her platinum blonde hairs stood up on edge on every part of her body, from the nape of her neck all the way to the fine hairs on her slender arms. Her long manicured finger rose to touch a trembling lip before she frantically started biting at the nail. There was no window. She looked around. There was no outlet through which the soul could depart. The room was haunted!

Sigyn let our a yelp. Instantly, she was on her feet and quickly she started to dart toward the door. "Who's there?' a very hoarse voice rasped upon hearing her.

Sigyn had nearly reached the door her hand was about the push out and she was about to high tail it from that cell, but voice. It was so hoarse and frail sounding. It was light and breathless and surprisingly childlike. It could be the ghost. She tried to warn herself. Despite her self warning Sigyn found herself turning around to peer through the dark. Raising her small candle high. "Loki?" she asked in a shaky tone. She lifted her light toward the corner where Loki huddled in. There she saw a skeletal looking body sitting up best it could. She could see how the sickly thin arms moved about wildly and without aim feeling up the glass wall. "Loki?" she asked with a small relief. She hoped she wasn't talking to a disembodied phantom. Se heard shuffling with every movement Loki seemed to groan and grunt. The sounds were painful sounding, the housed too much anguish to be the moans of a ghost. She walked closer until she was only a few feet from him. "Loki?' she questioned in the darkness once more, her voice was barely audible nervous as she was. He didn't answer, she merely felt bony fingers encircle around her foot an ankle. The grasp startled her and made her blood run cold. His fingers were like ice. She hissed as she felt chill take over her foot. The hold was not harsh or mean, not rough, but rather clingy and desperate.

He pulled his weak body close to hers letting out a breath gasp as he fumbled to feel the fabric of her gown. Satin and chiffon met with the cold finger tips. It felt so much better than the harsh cold tile floor. He leaned into it allowing his face to rub against the silk fabric of her nightgown. He sniffed. He smelt rose petals and poppies. The scent was familiar, then there was an undercurrent of a a second fragrance. It came in secondly, but its gentle hints in the air were powerful. The aroma of lilacs and plums lingers in the stuffy room. Loki's mouth stretched into an ecstatic grin, he wrapped his arms around her legs, "Mother?" he panted like a puppy. "Mothermother," Loki muttered. "It's so dark in here...it's so cold here...can I go outside? When can I go outside?"

Sigyn felt her heart sink deep within her chest with pity. "Loki," he gentle voice whispered back with trepidation. He clung closer the ruffled edges of her skirt. She stooped down until she was at Loki's eye level. She quietly placed the satchel containing the herbal ointments on the floor. She arched the flame of the candle over only a few inches, allowing her to look at Loki in the light. She wanted to simply see that he was alive and that she was not in the clutches of a ghoul, but what she caught side of she wished she would have been left alone with a ghost. As the flicker light of the flame encircled and illuminated Loki's features Sigyn caught glimpse of sights that took her breath away. Sigyn was appalled to find that the eyes looking up at her were not the mystical green orbs that she had so often dreamed about, but rather they were a hellish red. Oh they were so hideously crimson. They were red like a pools of blood with a small beady black iris in the center. A film was over them, a cloudy covering that made it obvious that those gleaming vermillion pupils were sightless, but the murky, milky colored film did not hide the gleaming scarlet eyes. Pouring out of the hot lava red eyes was a sick oozing liquid that looked like black tar running down his cheeks. He squeezed his blood-red eyes shut gasping once again as a shudder took over him.

Sigyn inhaled sharply so much so that he forgot to breathe, without though she yanked the hem of her skirt away from Loki. Loki, already weak and tired from the withdrawal symptoms that threatened to rip him apart from the inside out, he fell over face first cheek plastered to the ground. He managed to push himself up on feeble, trembling limbs. She pulled herself from Loki's cold touch and watched as bony blue hands groped helplessly in the air. They were blue, hideously cobalt they were frozen looking and garish, scaly like chipped ice. "No" Sigyn muttered to herself as she watched the long talon like onyx colored claws making their way to grasp at the hem of her garments. The flickering flame of the candle fell upon his face and she saw the heinous markings carved into the ugly blue fresh. Sigyn erupted in a hair-raising outcry.

"Mother!" Loki cried once again groping aimlessly to try and feel her out. Once again his long black nails latched on to the smooth fabrics of her yellow and gold gown. Sigyn screeched the louder and tore her dress from Loki's clutches, the dress rent leaving only shreds of satin material in Loki's blue fist.

She tossed her candle and satchel to the floor. Loki heard as they both clanked against the tile. Then he heard furious, frantic, footsteps, fleeing, from his presence as quick as the legs attached to them could carry them. "Mama!" Loki called pathetically collapsing to the ground in trying to reach her. His left hand stretched forth in vain only to grasp air. "WAIT!" he yelled desperately as the footsteps seemed to become more and more distant. "PLEASE!" he groaned doubling over and rolling in on himself in a ball, once again the worse of his withdrawal symptoms taking over. His body didn't know how to work or react without having magic at its disposal. "UGHHHGG!" he cried rolling out on his back in anguish. "Help me," he begged only to hear the gold door slam shut.

"Lady Sigyn!" the guards called behind her as they watched a streak of gold fly by them. They reached out their hands to try to halt her in her haste, but she was a flash of lightning, unstoppable. Sigyn ran frantically out from the dungeon screaming and sobbing with her hands in the air. She ran through the corridors and up the 40 flight stair case. She ran to the safety of her chambers. Her face paint smudged horribly so that she looked like a jester entertaining the court. Once in her bedchamber she shut the door behind her tightly and put the plank on the door to lock it. She slid down with her back pressed to the back of the mahogany door and until she was on her bottom. She shook her head in a complete and utter dither. She brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them tight toward herself for comfort. She looked around wide-eyed for a long time studying the object in her room trying to make sure she could trust her eyes. Everything in her chamber seemed to be in tact. Nothing seemed to be odd. Her mind reeled. She thought of the rumors that she had heard circulating around the palace for the past few days. Mostly she had given no credence to them. Court was full of gossip. Whispers down the lane had said that people had seen Loki turn blue in the extraction chamber, some said it was because he had died, some said it was part of the curse put on by the all-father, others said that it was because he was... was... It had seemed so unrealistic at the time. So far-fetched, "Loki's ...a...a...a.." Sigyn stuttered in horror, "Frost Giant,"

---

Loki scrambled on his hands and knees scurrying like a disgusting rat toward where the candle had dropped. He hurried to it hoping that its small amounts of light and warmth had not been extinguished in his frosty cell. His hands furiously patted at the ground that was cold and slick like ice from coming in contact with his body. When he found the candlestick he grabbed it with expectant fingers only to find it froze in his hands and the light died. He growled and let out a scream as he flung the now newly formed icicle into the nearest wall. He listened to the ice hit ice and then shatter into a million tiny pieces.

The once prince, once mystic crumbled, curling in on himself and dragging blue scaly hand through his long ebony hair. He was in so much pain. His whole being was consumed with a burning and an aching a yearning for power that had once flowed so freely to ever fiber of his person now he was bereft of that and his body convulsed and begged for it. He was blind. A blind wretch wallowing in a hole. He had never thought much of sight when he'd had it. Now, without it he felt depraved and confused. Had mother been in the room? Had she come to see him and run away? Why? Perhaps it was someone else. There had been another scent. A scent that was slightly younger smelling than mother's. Oh but he couldn't place it. He could place nothing as he body struggled to survive without magic.

He brought his head up, film covered red eyes stared and saw nothing. He remembered hearing something else drop. When mother... no the person with the other familiar scent had run from him screaming they'd dropped something. Something heavy. What was it? Where was it. He scuttled groping at the ground for what he desired. His body was weak and every few minutes a seizure would consume him leave him twitching and sprawled out on the floor breathless. He'd tried to let the pain subside although it never did, he dragged his useless torso and legs across the frost-bitten floor until finally his knuckles brushed against a worn leathery satchel. He gripped it with enthusiasm. His frost giant fingers fumbling with it. His hands were now clumsy, awkward and numb. He got frustrated his black nails getting tangled in the strings that held the bag shut. He slashed through it with the frost giant claws and the contents spilled out. He heard several distinct clanks against the icy ground. He picked up a round container. It was made of stone. He twisted off the cap, lifted it to his narrow nose and inhaled its potent aroma. He recognized the scent of the crushed fig leaves combined with the extract of boysenberries. Eye salve. He remembered as a boy, he and mother gathering the ingredients in the garden. Mother sent him to collect the boysenberries warning him not to eat them all. He came back to her with a basket mostly empty, but a face full of berry juice. Her laugh was gentle as she saw him shamefacedly approach. 'It's a good thing I didn't send you to collect the figs or you'd have broken your neck climbing the boughs and trying to eat them," she laughed. She pulled him into a fond embrace and took her kerchief, dabbed it with her tongue and gently began wiping his face knowing that he wouldn't like being untidy for long. He smiled scooping up great heaps on his fingers and slathering them recklessly on his eyes. His eyes that burned like they'd been dipped in acid and leaked with a slimy black ooze. His eyes that longed to open as see once more. He kept his eyes open as he rubbed the contents on blind bloody colored eyeballs. Amazingly, he felt the healing power of the medicinal salve start to take effect easing the discomfort even just minimally.

His had continued to reach out until it came in contact with a small vial. It fit easily in the palm of his hand. Loki studied it with his thumb. Something was inscribed on the surface. He recognized the letters he traced in old rune script. Letters that made up the word "with love." Carefully he unplugged the cork stuck tightly within the opening on the small flask. When the cork popped out some of the liquid from the inside of the vial spilled onto Loki's hands. He felt clumsy without his sight. He'd always been so careful, now he fumbled and spilled all over himself. The liquid was sticky and thick. He brought his tongue to lick across ice-cold fingers. His lips puckered at the taste. It was a bitter nasty tonic, made mostly of marsh weed and mushroom roots it tingled like fairy dust on the tongue but it had a hint of strawberry to it. The pungent flavor awakened his hazy mind...ah he remembered this potion.

"Loki?" A demure feminine voice asked as she cracked open the door.

He pried his bloodshot green eyes open, blinking and squinting to make the figure come into focus. Finally, they took hold on a frame, a vision, an angel draped in silver and sapphire. "D-d-dagmar?" he stammered.

He felt the bed dip ever so slight near his left side,"Shh," she cooed gently running her cool porcelain fingers over him forehead and tenderly brushing back his sweat soaked black hair. Her lovely pomegranate lips formed a frown. He felt so hot and he normally was always cool to the touch.

"Dagmar, oh," he moaned as he tried to sit up, but failing miserably only to slump down further into his gold satin bedding. "You shouldn't be here," he protested, shaking his head weakly against his pillow. "I might be contagious...I don't want you to get sick," he explained his normally sharp voice sounded muffled and stuffed.

Dagmar chuckled in patronizing manner, making Loki poke out his lip into a pout. "you have energy flu," the young healing student informed him. "Not contagious," she whispered in his ear.

"Oh," Loki stated before letting out a sneeze, "I...I...I knew that," he insisted. Dagmar quirked her thick pomegranate mouth into a teasing smirk. "I...I...I did," Loki protested. "It's just...I feel awful...I can't... get out of bed," he explained his normally sophisticated voice sounded congested and sniveling "My throat hurts...My head hurts...my chest hurts," Loki complained before he blasted another snotty sneeze.

"Aww," Dagmar cooed bringing a handkerchief toward Loki's nose. "Blow," she instructed sweetly. "Tanku," Loki mumbled into the napkin, "and feel so weak...my magic's weak... I can't even float a coin," he confessed and waved a shaky hand over a few loose shekels on his nightstand. The silver pieces simply bounced in place but never managed to pull off of the porcelain surface. The effort left him winded.

Dagmar took his unsteady left hand and guided it back down to resting on his slim abdomen. She gave it a soft pat. "Your flu is very severe," she reminded him. "One of the worse cases I've heard about," she confirmed giving a firm nod with a grimace etched on her ivory face. "But it's not really surprising considering the feat you preformed. Bonding with that twisted queen and making those..." she stopped and shuddered as she remembered the horrid beast that that cruel woman had forced Loki to create after keeping them all prisoner.

"Monsters," Loki let the word roll sluggishly off his tongue and finished her sentence. "I created those horrible monsters," he mumbled frown harshly.

"You saved our lives," Dagmar stated to him firmly. She rubbed her hands together sloshing around the lotion in her hands before rubbing them across Loki's sweat forehead and heaving chest. "You saved my life, Loki," she whispered watching as Loki's chest relaxed as the soothing vapors from her ointment rose into his nostils.

"I couldn't let you all get hurt...I...I" he began but broke forth in coughing. She watched with worry as the coughing tossed his whole body about. She was able to ease him back in the bed. She felt his forehead once more with the back of her hand. He saw the way her brow creased as she examined him. "Luckily father came and..." Loki started once again only to break out into more fits and coughing spasms.

"Shh," Dagmar cooed place her ivory fingers to Loki's lips. "Don't get so excited," she cautioned. "You're still quite feverish," Lady Dagmar expressed.

" I don't know how I can have a fever...I feel so cold," Loki confessed with a small shiver coming over him. Dutifully Dagmar began tucking his thick ever green quilts up around his neck. She made him stick out his tongue and say "aaahhh." "Am I gonna live, Mistress Healer?' he asked playfully, but he looked so pathetic, his flesh flushed and damp, his emerald eyes dim and deep bags under them.

"Mmm," Dagmar started as she reached into her small change purse. "Oh yes, Prince Loki," she giggled. "I predict you will make a full recovery with rest" Dagmar indicated. "And proper treatment."

Loki shook his head wearily, 'I'm in too much pain to sleep. I ache all over,"

"Well this should help you with your sleeping, pain and regaining your abilities." Dagmar said as she pulled out a small vial a gave it a good shake.

"No medicine, Dag," Loki muttered miserably, "They gave me so many tonics... all these potions have made me so hazy...I don't want any more,"

"You sound like a little boy," she giggled tapping his sharp, narrow nose. 'But ill little prince's must learn to be good patients and take their herbal remedies without complaint," she chided him softly.

"But..." Loki offered a weak form of protest only to find the Vanir maiden hold a hand up to his face and silence him. Once he was quiet she crossed to the over side of his room where her had a table full of the tonics that the palace apothecary had prescribed for him. She grabbed the spoon from a teacup that no doubt had a dosage of some early treatment. She slowly poured the thick goop onto the spoon, it brown and gunky looking. "Open wide," the silver-eyed Vanir noble woman teased her old friend in a baby voice as she moved the spoon in a zigzag pattern toward his mouth as she started to walk back toward his bedside.

Loki rolled his glassy green eyes, the simple motion hurt, "You're awful toward me," he pouted. He felt like a child. After he and Thor would come outside from playing in the snow their stodgy old nurse made Helga would always be standing at the door with a large helping of her tonics and oils to keep them from a case of the sniffles. She'd make them take about three good helpings of the nasty brews turning their tongues and stomach sour.

"Awww, c'mon" Dagmar taunted jovially her voice still imitating a parent talking to an infant. "Let the boat into the harbor," she coaxed taking a seat on the edge of the bed next to a very ill prince. She continued waving the silver spoon about. Loki remained tight-lipped scowling sharply as she poked at his mouth with the spoon.

"Dag-" He started only to be silenced as she quickly injected the spoon into his mouth.

Loki puckered out his cheeks refusing to swallow the tonic. "Swallow it Loki," she chided and he readily allowed the thick concoction to slide down his throat, he stuck out his tongue against the disgusting medicine. "I tried to make it as sweet as I could for you, Loki. I tried to add strawberry for flavor...your favorite," she smiled back at him hopefully. She couldn't help but reach out her hand a ruffle his dark black hair. He looked so much like he had when they were youngster his cheeks all rosy. He was adorable, ill as he was.

"I do taste the strawberry," he confirmed offering a small grin as she brought him a cup of water to help wash down the tonic. "What else is in it?' the dark-haired prince inquired.

"What you don't trust me. You taught me well Prince Loki, I know how to mix tonic," she teased as she stirred a cup of tea.

"No...no, I didn't mean it like that...I just...I'm just curious," he offered rolling weak jade eyes up to look at her like a begging puppy-dog.

"If you must know," Dagmar began, "A few herbs for your flu-like symptoms, fairy dust to help you regain your energy back faster and mushroom root... that'll make you a little hazy, a little groggy, but sleep is going to be the quickest way for your powers to be restored," the young healer elaborated.

"Thank you," he replied after guzzling the water down to the last drop. He limply passed the glass back to his silver eyed friend and smiled up at her gratefully he could already feel his splitting headache start to subside.

"Your welcome," she smiled once again allowing her hand to glide over his head smoothing his hair back. 'It was made with love," she whispered in his ear. His emerald eyes looked up at her with longing as a faint smile creased his thing lips. He started to say something but Dagmar started humming and all of a sudden he felt very drowsy. His eyelids felt so heavy. Maybe Dagmar was using her sleeping spell. It was strong and unlike with others he was susceptible to her magic because he trusted her. "It's a strong brew, but it should help you regain your powers. Your magic is stronger than most. I feel that if any other would have had to perform the feat you did they may have died on spot. You're very strong, very brave," she encouraged. "Loki?" the raven haired enchantress called softly noting how the youngest prince of the realm's eyes had slipped shut.

"Mmm Mar-Mar?" Loki asked tiredly his voice slurring perhaps this medicine was taking its effects faster than he would like. He didn't want to fall asleep he wanted to stay up and talk with her all night. "Yes," Dagmar replied back her voice gentle.

"Will you tell me a story?" He asked sweetly bring his cloudy emerald eyes to look up at her once more. She was so beautiful. Dagmar's lips stretched in a wide smile her heart crumpling, now he sounded like no more than the young child she had treated him as.

"You should sleep," the ebony coiffed Vanir noble woman instructed still running her slender fingers over Loki's hair and brow.

"Mmnotsleepy," Loki moaned allowing his head to lean heavily into her palm.

"If I tell you a story will you go to sleep?" Dagmar bargained.

The black-locked prince nodded drowsily in compliance with his friends deal. "Yes mummy," he muttered.

"What story would you like to hear?" Dagmar asked gently smiling down as she watched Loki's emerald eyes start to droop.

"Snow Queen," Loki replied eagerly despite the fact that he was becoming increasingly and increasingly fatigued. He lethargically managed to raise his hand and point toward one of his many book shelve. Dagmar nodded and gave his thin shoulder a squeeze before crossing over to the left side of the youngest prince's bedchamber and sifting through the books on the shelf. There she found a very old and very warn childhood book. She plucked it from the shelf and slowly walked back to Loki's bedside. She sat down next to him on the bed and began reading. She read for a long time until she noticed Loki's breathing even out.

"Loki are you a sleep?" Dagmar asked with a giggle as she started to clothes the dusty and warn old book.

"Mmmhmm," the dark-haired prince moaned as he rolled over and pressed his cheek against his pillow

"Did you like the story?" she asked as she brushed his long dark locks out of his face as he slept.

"Mmmhmm,".

"What did you like?" she inquired her pomegranate lips close to his ear while she curled one of the ebony strands around her finger before tucking it behind his ear.

"He saves 'em...with love," Loki breathed drifting into deep slumber.

"Feel better," Dagmar breathed against his cheek as she planted a pomegranate kiss there.

Longing for sleep after so many days and nights of being ravished with pain and being made to scream his voice away Loki readily took the contents of the container.

For a long time Lady Sigyn found herself huddled next to the door. Her back pressed against it and her legs tucked tight to her chest and chin. She sat there shaking and trembling, cowering like a child after hearing a scary tale. The ones where Frost Giants preyed upon innocent villages stealing children and damsels on full moon nights. She shuddered still looking around wide-eyed at her surroundings. She kept imagining Frost Giants banging at the gates of the Imperial City ready to overrun the palace. She pictured her cold blue clawing at the glass window pane. Then she'd picture the blood-red eyes staring back at her. They were gleaming hot crimson like a fire. And they glared at her with wicked pleasure like they would slit her honey hued throat without a second thought. She envisioned the sharp teeth dripping with venomous saliva. She let out a terrified squeak as the dreaded beast took full form in her mind. She pictured it bursting through her window, it towered over her seeming a big as a mountain. It lumbered toward her. It's hideous body bulging with chilly muscles and every step it took left icy foot prints on her cream-colored carpet. Finally it was right before her an ice dagger freshly formed in its grotesquely carved frost-bitten hands. Before she knew it the devilish creature was reaching its icicle, tar tinted fingers at her.

Sigyn shut her eyes and grabbed her cloak and threw it over her head. Just like she'd do when she was a girl. Sigyn felt terribly foolish. What if her young servant girl came in and found her cowering beneath her cape. It was shameful for a woman her age to be acting so, but she was helpless against it. There was a monster in the palace. Right underneath her. There was Jotun in Asgard. It was like something from a nightmare. She remembered hearing the rumors on the day of Thor's coronation that Frost Giants had broken into Asgard, but she hadn't believed that. It was too terrifying to believe. What she'd seen with her own eyes was too terrible to believe.

The golden-haired lady-in-waiting heard a slight bump. It was so small probably nothing but a stumble of some tired servant just off to bed after tidying the kitchen, but it startled Sigyn out of her wits. She bolted toward the bed, "Frost Giant!" she muttered in a dreadful panic as she flung the cape from over her head and jumped upon her mattress, just like a timid youngster. She buried herself in her pastel colored satin comforters and shook underneath the thick quilts. Her bottom sticking up in the air. She huffed and puffed trying to collect herself and get her wits about her. After a few moments she managed to calm her nerves enough for her to poke her finger out from under the sheets, making a hole for her gold eye to peak through. Once again Lady Sigyn was confronted with the gruesome image of a Frost Giant. She cringed and started to scream was she to be driven mad by the sight of the monstrous beings? But this image was didn't it wasn't a blue savage, it was Loki. His blue body was gaunt, nearly skeletal making the markings on his icy flesh even more pronounced. The horrible cuts were carved deep, but the didn't look as garish as she had recalled, they were intricate and almost elegant. His eyes, red and they were were covered with a cloudy film that made him appear like a blind bat in a cave. The way he looked around his eyes vermilion but still unseeing. His voice wasn't deep and harsh sounding like she expected the roar of a Frost Giant to be but rather his voice was weak, raspy, raw and pleading. His lips were dripping with foam and saliva like a rabid animal, he wasn't bearing his teeth and snarling at her rather his mouth and stretched in a grin when he'd made contact with her.

Sigyn felt her chest tighten as she thought of him. He was in so much agony down in the cell, the way he cried and screamed, they way he convulsed on the floor, rolling and wallowing in anguish. She felt her amber eyes start to mist. She couldn't bear to think of Loki being in pain. That's why during their courtship when ever he'd seem stressed or upset she'd always offered her body, she wasn't good with words, but she wanted him to be happy and if her body brought him pleasure than so be it. When Loki had called off their betrothal she had felt awful, she felt shame for herself of course and confusion for she had no idea how she was being accused of infidelity, but what was worse, what made her feel like the lowest of women was the thought that if she had betrayed him, she'd brought him pain. She had to go back!

A/N: Alright so decisions decisions. So when I started this story I planned on using it to flush out all my ideas for Thor: The Dark World before the movie came out, but now the movie is right around the corner YAYYY! AAAAHHHH! So I don't know if I'll be able to finish my story before the movie comes out and I'd prefer for my story to stay true to my imagination and not use the new movie... so my question becomes do I continue the story once the movie is released? Well either way I will write one more chapter that might be the end to this story ;((