Chapter Two - The Death
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There was no body to place in a ship and send over the falls to the ancestors. There was nothing.
There was only Thor's blue eyes, devastated and confused, and all he could say was, "He fell."
Loki had fallen off the Bifrost, off the edge of the world, into the abyss beyond. He was gone. And Sif still understood none of it- not Jotunheim, Thor's banishment, the Odinsleep, Loki taking the throne, the Destroyer, Frost Giants in Asgard… none of it.
The only part she understood was that all of it was for nothing. She would never understand what had happened, because Loki was dead.
She stood on the balcony, wrapped in her own pain and guilt, worse than any shroud. Because she might have averted it all.
Soft footsteps behind her were the queen's and Sif bit her lip, to keep her anguish to herself. Frigga had her own grief, far greater than anything Sif could claim.
Sif glanced at her; Frigga always looked wise and beautiful, and this was no exception. Only her eyes showed her grief, otherwise she held to her calm here among the dregs of the memorial feast. She read Sif's own turmoil and put a gentle hand on Sif's shoulder.
The comforting gesture from someone who surely needed it more, broke something in Sif, and her eyes suddenly pricked with wet heat and she could only draw a single ragged breath. "I didn't tell him," she confessed her guilt. "I could've changed everything… If I'd just told him…"
Frigga drew nearer and asked with a curious frown. "Told him what, Sif?"
Sif's hand dropped to lay over her lower abdomen. Frigga's eyes followed the gesture and then widened with sudden understanding as Sif whispered, "Only days ago, I found out I'm with child. His child."
"Sif-"
But now that she'd started to speak, Sif couldn't stop. "I didn't know what to tell him, it was only one night, I never thought anything would come of it. I didn't know what I was going to do. I was trying to figure it out, and then… I don't know what happened. I don't understand. How did everything go so wrong?" Her voice shook on the words and she blinked furiously, trying not to cry, as she huddled against the balustrade.
Frigga's hand smoothed the hair at the side of her face gently. She didn't speak for a moment, letting Sif gather herself back together. "There is something you should know, that might help you understand. And you must not blame yourself, my dear. The fault for all these days… for this loss… is mine alone."
"Yours?" Sif repeated blankly. That seemed impossible.
"On Jotunheim, during your battle there," Frigga murmured. "Loki discovered a truth that we had hidden from him, that he was not our son by blood, but instead a child of Jotunheim, transformed long ago into an Aesir appearance."
Sif knew she was staring, but this… this was too much. A Frost Giant?
"The infant had been cast aside, too small and weak for their kind," Frigga murmured. "And Odin brought him here. We thought - we believed - that shift was permanent, and he would never have to know his true ancestry. It seemed kinder." Her single laugh broke on a sob, and she had to pause to steady herself. "But that proved an ill decision when discovering the truth in such a way…" she shook her head and her fingers rubbed each other, "it… unsettled him. Made him doubt himself, and us. Everything. He was angry and hurt, and I helped him too little when he needed me…" She closed her eyes, brows knitting together in pain and her voice fell to something barely pushed from her throat, "Thor could have pulled him up, but Loki… let go. He chose to let go. To leave us."
Sif's heart felt too heavy, too large in her chest, and she couldn't breathe under this weight. Everything was worse. The truth was worse. The truth had broken Loki and now it was going to break her, too.
He hadn't fallen by accident. He'd killed himself. Hopeless and despairing and alone, he'd let go, choosing a slow and terrible death in the void between Realms, rather than stay.
"I should have told him. He didn't know." Her lower lip trembled even after she bit it, trying to make it stop. "He didn't know that he had something to live for."
Frigga's hand closed on her shoulder and tugged. Sif turned gratefully into her embrace and together, their tears flowed of loss and regret.
Sif sniffed and drew a deeper breath. "I'm going to keep the baby," she said. It was not until the words came out that she knew she had decided, but once spoken, she felt they were right. Their relationship had lasted one night, but it had also lasted most of their lives, and it had held the potential of more if she had opened her eyes earlier. He had left her, but he hadn't left her alone, and she could never destroy his final gift to her. It felt like his greatest trick, to give her this that would change her life so profoundly and then leave them all behind.
"We know now the shift was not complete. Your child will be half-Jotunn by blood," Frigga reminded her, voice kept neutral, but it still struck Sif's ears wrongly as a warning and a suggestion that perhaps, Sif should reconsider her decision.
She squared her shoulders and returned, "The child will be half Loki's. And that is not a bad thing to be."
But Frigga's caution seemed to be only a test, as she smiled. "No, it is not," Frigga agreed. "And I am glad something of him will survive, Sif. Thank you."
Sif managed a short nod and walked away to find someplace she could think and mourn, alone.