(SIGYN)
I got tired of walking, tired of not knowing where we were going, tired of wondering if he would talk to me. My mind ran at a frantic pace, searching in all directions for anyone or anything that could give us a clue where we were. Asgard was so crowded and reliant on technology, I'd spent my life taking it for granted. Here in the wilderness, surviving on little more than errant stone fruit—which was sometimes too sour to swallow—and the odd trickle of a creek, I would've given anything for a tall tower to cut through the forest and give us an aim.
Loki preserved his strength by staying silent—at least, that's what I told myself. He never reached for my hand in affection. He never asked how I was holding up. His hot and cold nature was back in full force, confusing me as much as it ever did.
But it's selfish to want anything from him at all. I couldn't let my worry cloud the need to find refuge. It was better to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.
"Sigyn, do you see that?" he whispered, pointing toward the edge of another clearing.
I squinted, having to shield my eyes from the sun directly before us as it settled into another night. "I don't see anything."
"It's there. Look again."
If Loki could find something from behind the blindfold on his face, I either needed to try harder, or he was hallucinating. Unwilling to accept the latter, I scanned the next hillside again.
The trees were spikes of green, misleadingly short from so far away. A few larger birds weaved in and out of them. But wisping into the sky, backlit by the sunset, was a column of gray smoke. It was fortune alone that made it visible—a few minutes before or after, and it would've remained undetected.
"I see it. It's light...maybe campfire smoke. That has to be people, doesn't it?"
"Yes. We must pray it's more than a solitary traveler. Come on." Loki trudged forward again, grunting with every step. He didn't need to tell me how much pain lingered when his body spoke for him.
I was proud of the shoes I'd fashioned for him from my skirt, but even they were wearing thin like mine. Both of us were bloodied and bruised. As exiles from our home, there was no guarantee anyone would take us in; even worse, they might send us back to Asgard for an even more grotesque reprimand. The risks were daunting but unavoidable. We'd either find salvation alongside the smoke, or devastation.
We raced against the sunset, limping all the way. I prayed most for water. The open field felt like it expanded after every step, and we'd never make it to the edge. Yet the trees grew over us again, reaching into the sky with their spindles and finger-like needles to beckon us onward.
Orange, pink, and blue clouds descended on the top of the mountain, creeping closer to us like a blanket of moisture. Without warning, when the sun hit just right once again through a break in the trees, a new shadow formed across the fluffy bottom edge of vapor.
"Loki...is it a castle?" I whispered, suddenly aware how small I felt under the hidden stone wall ahead of us. We weren't far now—maybe ten minutes away at most.
"I'm not sure." He paused to try and catch his breath, panting at a pace much faster than my own.
"Could it be the Don City?"
"No, it's much bigger than this. Would be impossible to miss."
"Now I'm wondering if we passed many places like this and just didn't see them." I gaped in awe at the height alone, still trying to understand how something so massive could be so camouflaged. It had a presence and soul of its own, old and wise, like it burst from the ground like the greenery. Vines crawled up the sides with red blossoms, tracing the edges of each stone, which fit next to each other with such precision I wondered if any mortar had been used at all. Runes that meant nothing to me were etched into the rock, perfect in their worn imperfection. With no roof and such vast sides, it was too big to be a single building.
Loki and I both put a hand on it when we were close enough, as if it would speak to us in vibrations or give way under pressure. He winced at the cold just like I did. "Must be a key encampment," he said.
"I hope we won't have to circle the whole thing to find a way in."
He tipped his head in dejected agreement. "Come on. Before the sun fades."
The hillside was far from flat, so we walked with our feet turned sideways, trying not to trip on the large roots interrupting the path. Moons were already cresting in the opposite direction, and I worried we wouldn't last another night if Loki screamed the same way he did the night before.
His guttural, heartbroken, hopeless yells and tears ripped me apart, just like his words on the cliffside. I still shuddered at the thought of him begging for my help—not my comfort, but for a different kind of relief. Thankfully, that madness was behind us.
Mercy smiled upon us on the right flank of the wall in the form of a grand wooden door, intricately carved in vines that mimicked the fortress's natural decoration. It was shut tight; no light escaped from any of its seams. If not for the smoke we saw from the field, I would've feared no one was home.
We stared at it, frozen with trepidation until I let out a harsh breath. "Alright. We haven't any more time to waste." I balled my fist and raised my arm for a heavy knock.
"Wait—" Loki put his right hand on my shoulder, still not able to meet my gaze. "Like this, we'll surely frighten them."
"We don't have much of a choice," I said.
He released me and handed me the cape. "Yes, we do. Close your eyes."
"Now's not the time for tricks."
"Trust me," he said, keeping his fingers wrapped on the fabric until I took all the weight.
I did as he asked and shut my eyes, but I folded my arms just as tight. My temper's fuse had been exhausted. Help is just beyond the door—why are you stalling?
Yet as soon as I thought we were wasting time, a wash of chill came over me, smelling fresh and clean and of the rain. Not just Loki's scent, but his magic. The itchy edges of the rags I wore no longer bothered me, and I felt for the skirt to find it reached the ground again.
His hand found my shoulder once more. "Now you may knock."
I raised my face slowly, already aware that he wouldn't appear as his true self. Perhaps he chose an Asgardian soldier, or a complete stranger whom I'd never seen. As for my disguise, how would he hide me? Did he know enough about the Vanir to fool them so easily?
Yet he surprised me even further when I did open my eyes. I gasped as flutters bounded through my stomach. "Loki...you—"
"If we have any hope for allies here, it is through our ties to Frigga." He arched his brows, which were black and full, as they once were before we'd been caught. His hair wasn't sliced at his ears anymore, and there were no signs of all he'd endured on the stone. Loki wore the simple green tunic and brown trousers he'd worn the night I found him in the tower, simple and unarmed, showing me the tiniest bit of his remaining innocence. His left arm remained in a sling, though it was made of tan leather like his boots. Even in this form, he couldn't appear weak.
It was as if I was looking upon him for the first time again, astounded by his beauty and grace, painfully aware how unworthy I was to see it.
I looked over myself next—instead of my black robe, an iridescent purple and bright pink chemise flowed over me under a silver breastplate that hugged my form. Never in my life had I ever worn something so grand, whether in reality or illusion.
"It's...tangible?" I asked, no less in awe now at his power than the first time he wielded it before me.
"Not for long. It's the last of my strength."
I took his unspoken word without anything more. Time to hurry. I knocked as I'd intended to before he interrupted me and startled when a small window in the door opened almost as soon as I touched the wood.
An old woman looked back at us, only visible by her eyes and forehead, though the gray and white frizz of her hair gave her age away. She didn't speak. Her sight alone gathered everything she needed to know. If she had powers like Heimdall and saw through our souls, it wouldn't have been a surprise.
Loki, ever the model prince, bowed with his hand behind my back, presenting us together. "Good lady, we are in search of The Don City."
She squinted at him. "It's two days' ride from 'ere. If on foot, four at the very least. You're going the wrong way."
He nodded. "Thank you. We had no idea we were so far off course."
"Somehow I doubt that," she said.
Loki didn't hesitate. "Perhaps if you would let us come into this fortress, we could gather supplies for our journey and be on our way by the next sunset."
The woman at the door wasn't as quick to act. She kept us waiting for an agonizing few minutes, pondering while staring at us both. Yet Loki's docile attitude was a spell in and of itself, and it softened her enough to close her window and pull against the heavy door to grant us passage.
Even more than I could've imagined from outside, the grounds beyond the fortress wall were filled with structured tents, campfires, and people. Soft dust made the ground instead of the hard gravel and tree needles outside the gate. Everyone around us was clad in the same simple brown tunic, give or take a few personalizations, and I saw why Loki chose his own attire. Maybe in his youth he learned the style from Frigga, who brought it with her from her own family traditions and culture.
"Thank you," Loki said, bowing before the woman once more when we were inside. "What shall we call you?"
"Grid," she said. Her ragged voice and short stature was more severe without the barrier between us. "I'll lead you where you want to go." Without anything more, she cut a path through the center of the encampment, not so much as slowing down or pausing to ensure we were behind her.
People in all directions stopped whatever they were doing to stare at us, even children. No one spoke, either to each other or to us. While I doubted Grid was terribly formidable, the sheer number of them made me uneasy.
Loki, for the first time since we went through the portal in Asgard, reached for my left hand and squeezed hard. He didn't look at me or say a word, but I chose to take it as a signal to be brave and not waver. I clutched him just as strongly to say the same.
While we passed through, a delicious assortment of smells filled the air—thick, savory essence of meat roasting to perfection; something else sweet and warm; even a citrus tang that made me shiver when I breathed it in. My mouth watered all the while but didn't dare ask to stop. Just a little while longer. Just a bit more patience.
Grid took us to a large bonfire at the center of three large shelters, which were too large to be called tents and too small to be called homes. Each round structure had a chimney spout in the center, coughing out light whisps of smoke. It wasn't a throne room, but the area had an atmosphere of influence about it, as if any grand announcement would be made from the spot where we stood. The audience of citizens who followed us verified my theory.
Loki searched in all directions, refusing to let go of my hand. He cleared his throat and shouted so all could hear, "Good people of Vanaheim, I am Loki, son of Frigga, the great sorceress and Queen of Asgard."
A few quiet rumbles bounced through the crowd. I avoided as many eyes as I could and focused on his face.
"The woman at my side is Sigyn." He looked me squarely in the face this time. The quiver of his lower lip made my heart race. "Her innocence doomed her to this fate...to a life with no home. Odin Allfather left her behind in hopes that she would face eternal suffering at my side."
My jaw dropped. Why are you being so open about this?
He sniffed, releasing my hand to tuck hair behind my ear instead. "Please take care of her."
I furrowed my brow while panic made my body numb. "What?"
Without warning, Loki pulled me in, driving his lips against mine. Yet this was nothing like the kisses we'd shared in the past. His skin was like ice—dry, cracked, and tight. For all I'd hoped for tenderness again, this wasn't what I dreamed of. It was a nightmare of our lost potential.
I ignored the many people openly murmuring around us when he pulled back. There was nothing I could say.
Loki mixed our breath and didn't let me move away. "R-remember me like this," he whispered.
"Like what?"
"As you p-prefer me."
I sighed. That's your concern? Now? "Loki, you are not tarnished to my eyes."
"Ginny..."—he wheezed in another breath before destroying me all over again—"...h-help me." His body wilted and he fell to his knees. A bright green shine peeled back his magic and revealed the horror beneath both of our intact facades.
Gods, no. "Loki?" I knelt with him, shocked by how much worse he looked since I'd last seen his face in the flesh. A bright red wound starting at his upper lip wept with foul ooze down his cheeks. Looking at it was painful—what anguish was he in? "Please don't leave me now!"
"You're s-safe," he muttered, collapsing in a heap.
I shrieked for him, overflowing with anger, despair, hopelessness and heartache. Before I could pound his chest and force him to wake up, four Vanir women took my arms and pulled me away from my unconscious prince.