(Sigyn)
"No, let go of me!" I pulled against the women but was too weak. My cries meant nothing to them—they didn't cringe or flinch at my growing volume. Before we disappeared into one of the shelters, the five or six men surrounding Loki carried him to the building on the opposite side of the bonfire.
Grid spoke in a steady tone, petting my head while I was placed on a long table. "Shush, child."
I snapped my face toward her. "Where are they taking him? What will they do?"
"Whatever they can." She didn't stop her stroking, hypnotizing me with the caring touch I'd been so hungry for. "Sigyn, yes? That's what he said?"
"Yes. Ah—" I pulled back my right leg when one of the women touched the fresh scratches on my shins.
"Where did these come from?" Grid asked, glancing over the scabs on my legs before focusing on my face again. "You have cuts all over. Your lips are split."
"It, they, I...oh, does it matter?"
"Trust in us. We mean neither of you any harm." Grid didn't back down despite how I protested, both with my words and how I curled into myself to avoid her. "You're doing decently well. If whatever hurt him did the same to you, it can tell us what he needs."
"That's just it—he's plagued with something else. My role was as a bystander. I was with Loki when Odin put him under that...that thing that spit poison onto his face. The Orm. A giant snake. I tried to help him. I tried to save him. I killed the creature, then Loki led us here, and..." The more I spoke, the less I held my composure. My words ran in circles around the graphic details I didn't want to recount until I bawled into my dirty hands.
Another woman pulled the cape off my lap, so quickly I didn't have a chance to hold on.
I gasped. "Don't take that!"
She tipped her head and looked at the fabric—muddy, frayed, and covered in whatever debris it picked up on our journey since arriving in Vanaheim, it surely appeared worthless to her eyes.
"Please. You don't understand...if he's doomed, that might very well be the last shred I have of him." I held out my shaking arms for her to return it. "Please."
Yet she received a nod from Grid and pressed her lips together. "I'm taking it to wash. Fear not; it will come back to you." She left before I could protest.
"But wait—"
"Sigyn," Grid said, holding me still with her firm touch on my left shoulder. "When did all this happen with the Orm? Weeks ago?"
I wanted to chase the other woman out of the tent, but the crone at my side was stronger than she looked. After a few deep breaths, my mind cleared enough to answer her. "No...it's not even been two days. I killed the beast in the early morning yesterday before we escaped Asgard. Loki knew how to get here with his magic, but I've never left the palace for so long in my whole life." Suddenly a wash of sinking homesickness pulled my stomach down. "My family's legacy, my friends, even my sweet pet. They're all lost to me now." I wept for Tiwaz now, concerned he wouldn't have a warm bed to snuggle into since he was alone before I brought him in. He could be trawling through the palace halls, calling out for supper and scraps that no one knew to spare.
"Don't despair yet. It's too soon to tell if we can reverse whatever damage was done." She wiped a tear from my cheek. Grid's confidence should've spilled over to me, but it felt like pity instead of real hope.
"And if you can't?" I saw a lonely future ahead, filled with doubt and endless questions of how things might've turned out differently if only a few small things had changed. What if I hadn't intruded on Loki's mourning? What if I hadn't welcomed his touch? What if I hadn't told the truth to Odin and let him suffer forever alone, wailing beneath an endless supply of torment? I pulled my arms into myself and curled over—so hungry, I was nauseated. "This has all happened so fast. He was mine, I was his, then he was caught, and...now we're here. I'm not ready for him to die," I said, bursting into heavy sobs.
The women around me didn't talk with one another, which almost frightened me for how well-organized they were. Whatever they used to communicate, it wasn't audible to me. Grid stood next to me, stroking and tapping my back and shoulders so I wouldn't complain about their methods. She adopted me, in a way.
A yellow-tinged goo was applied to all my leg scratches and a small bit for my lower lip, which was cut in a few places from dehydration and one from my own teeth, having bitten it in my climb to the second cave on the cliffside without Loki. When I nearly fell, my jaw reflexively tightened and I chomped down without thinking. The healers slathered more on my wrists and ankles where I'd worn through the ties on Odin's skiff glider. Before long, the medicine had its desired effect and numbed wherever it was placed—though I didn't favor the flavor at all. It was overly sweet and made my tongue numb.
Another old woman produced a small purple bottle, instantly recognizable to me.
"I've seen that before," I said, pointing and signaling for her to move closer so I could get a better look. "Queen Frigga had some of this. It's another anesthetic, right?"
"In a way," she said, eyeing Grid, who didn't reply. "It's quite potent. Have you any deeper wounds we cannot see?"
I shook my head. "I'm nearly naked as it is."
Grid squeezed my hand. "Do you keep counts for your bleed?"
"Bleed?" It took me more than a moment to understand what she was asking, since numbering every one of my wounds was a pointless exercise. But her code made more sense when all the women glanced my way with arched brows. "Oh—keep count, as in track the phases? Somewhat. I admit, I hadn't needed to for several months because I..."—before divulging more about my history with Theo than was needed, I cleared my throat—"...Never mind. I haven't bled in almost three weeks, if that's what you wish to know."
She nodded. "Then that is not for you." Grid shooed away the woman with the purple bottle. "Go fetch her supper."
Her shift in attitude after what I'd said made me go numb. Whatever was in the bottle wasn't safe if...
Gods. Two and a half weeks...and how many days since we were...?
My carelessness swirled before me in the thick, obvious trouble I was in. It was far too early to know for sure, but the possibility lingered. Perhaps the cape wasn't the last shred of Loki I'd have left after all.
Grid didn't let me leave the tent where the women healed me, insisting that I stay put to rest and repair faster. In reality, it was a ploy to keep me from interrupting the men with Loki on the other side of the bonfire.
"Can you give me an update at least?" I asked after changing into one of their brown tunics. "I'm grateful for all you've done for me, but I won't be able to sleep without knowing his status."
"I don't have anything for you," she said, settling into a chair by the exit and rocking slowly while weaving some fabric together. A chaperone if I'd ever seen one.
Defeated, I rested on the cot they brought for me and closed my eyes. The eerie silence of the camp made me uneasy. My heart pulsed through the back of my throat, refusing to settle in my chest where it belonged. Every loud snap from the fire outside startled my nerves and kept me awake. I wanted exhaustion to take over.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Stretch right side, then left. Again. I rested my right arm over my belly and resisted the urge to tap my fingertips and wonder if something was already brewing. It was neither a blessing nor a curse, yet filling my mind with visions of a happy family was a tease and torment I couldn't bear. As far as I knew, Loki had already succumbed to his wounds—sure, Odin wanted him to torture forever, but it was difficult to comprehend anyone surviving the nightmarish status of his face the last time I looked upon him.
No sooner had the thought crossed my mind when it was dashed away in an unwelcome refutation. Like the night before, Loki bellowed in a chilling, pained tone, clear and unmistakable despite the distance between us.
I shot up from the cot, scrambling to find the new shoes brought for me.
"Don't disturb them," Grid said, standing in front of her chair with her arms folded. "In his condition, you won't be able to help anyway."
"You don't know that. I should at least be allowed to try." I towered over her by at least a full foot. "Let me pass."
"For what purpose, Sigyn? So you can see what little skin of his is still exposed to air? His body's been ravaged. You're better off not giving yourself nightmares over what it's done to him."
I scoffed. "Far too late for that. He did this for hours last night. I'm not afraid of seeing his pain—only of sitting still and doing nothing."
She pulled me down by my fingers so I would have no choice but to look her in the eye. "Child, you cannot control his fate. This is Loki's challenge. If he chooses to let it overtake him, there's not much anyone can do."
Out of arguments, I panted in frustration. It was out of my hands and theirs. She was right—only Loki had the power to know what was really happening to him. Was he preparing for death? Is that why he insisted on making sure I was safe before publicly faltering?
Loki screamed again, coughing through it with sobs. The list of possible reasons why he wept was far too long to speculate.
"He'll give up if he doesn't have something to live for," I whispered, crumbling by the minute while he screamed again. "I'm all he has."
Grid hummed, nodding through her thoughts. "And can you fill your life with something else when he is gone?"
Gone? The thought of moving on was preposterous. No one could ever compare to him. He'd made me believe in the impossible.
"Please let me pass, Grid. I...I have to tell him something." I sniffled and stood up straight. "It might be my only chance."
She cocked a brow. "Don't expect to receive any answers."
"No, I know that." A new ache of urgency took over, like flutters in my belly that were stronger than I'd ever felt. "Some things don't need answers to be true."
With my intent made known, she let me by, and every person I passed along the way to his tent bowed their head. The mind-speak traveled fast. Pity poured from all of them in a somber attitude. It was evident how little faith they had that he would survive.
Loki's yells grew louder, but I blocked them out. I didn't let his despair cloud what I wanted to say, even if it meant he wouldn't hear me. Regret for action not taken would be a greater guilt than anything I'd ever known. To free myself, I had to tell him what was in my heart.