(LOKI)
Their elixirs did little to ease my suffering, and the viscous jelly they poured over my skin did even less. It was hopeless.
"H-help me. Help me," I whispered, fading in and out of consciousness.
The many voices around me were deep and quiet. Gentle men whose only concern was making me comfortable. "Has anyone notified the senator?"
"Sending word to The Don City as soon as I can."
"Pray he has some answer to this. Not sure what to do about the face, so focus on what's fixable." The same man who spoke pressed down on my left shoulder.
A sharp, digging pain shot through my arm and down my back. I screamed and slammed my head backward into the flat table beneath me.
"It was reset improperly." He put a thick strap between my teeth. "Bite this to get through it."
Gods, don't...
Without further warning, he and two other men held me down while pulling my left arm straight beyond my head until the joint clicked into place. The unfair torture of help.
"There we go," he said, proud of his work but not removing the strap from my lips. "You're safe in our hands. We'll do whatever we can. Don't give up on us, alright?"
I wanted to nod, but I wanted to fade even more. Wished for peace and something cold. Wished for water and comfort and anything that wasn't the burn lingering all over me. The venom's footprint was restricted to my face, but it coursed through me in fast waves beneath the surface. Given how I woke with Sigyn last night, the prospect of more nightmares terrified me.
The choices were bleak. Suffer sleep, or suffer healing. Either way, suffering was my future.
"Next thing is to cover the open wounds. His back's been shredded. Feet, ankles and wrists..."
"Might be best to keep him still. Put a line in his arm. Pipe in the belly. See if a river tincture can be approved for him."
"Mm. I agree." The same man who'd been comforting me let out a heavy sigh. "Trust that we know best. Should you struggle too much with the confinement, I'll slip you something to make the time pass faster. Might be several weeks."
Weeks of confinement? My heart raced until it was numb in my chest. Will time do anything for me?
It wasn't torture at first—they wrapped me in gauzy fabric, taking care to re-apply all sorts of textures on my many lesions. Altogether, it smelled like lemons, earthen salt, and spice. Something familiar. But the man's warning was warranted: I couldn't move. They covered my eyes and placed another scrap of leather between my teeth to keep me from biting myself. Affixed to the table, I was left to their mercy and knowledge alone. It meant I couldn't speak. I couldn't see. Couldn't escape. The only thing free was my left hand, which could signal a simple yes or no with a nod of my fist.
They did as they said and pricked my arm, serving me fluids and whatever medicines they could administer in such a way. It reminded me of the basic tools of Midgard, weakening me further to know other people had all the control. Still—it was better than the idea of being force fed through the mouth.
I stayed calm at first. It comforted me like a tight embrace or heavy blanket. Over the following hours, the balms on my skin took effect and eased the sting. But by the time insects signaled for nightfall, I was restless. The tight casing suffocated me. Walls closed in. Ceiling dropped. I felt squeezed in a box, unable to tell anyone how badly I needed to feel fresh air to remember that I wasn't already buried.
Despite my discomfort, the poison of my mind would be much worse. Don't sleep. Stay alert. Maintain control.
The same man from earlier came close to my ear. "One of our senators will be here in the morning. He says you're being granted a single drop of The Don, which he's bringing with him. If that can't help you, nothing can." He patted my left hand. "I trust you know of it?"
[Yes,] I signed with a slow nod of my fist. It was an honor I'd never imagined—such great magic flowed through The Don River in the great city that Mother spoke of it as if it were a fabrication.
"Good." While he stayed near, my left arm ran warm.
What's that?
Something clicked and tugged where the needle was placed earlier. "This will help you sleep. We'll rouse you in the morning."
No! I groaned to get his attention, but he didn't stay, and I couldn't move well enough to signal him. Please reverse it! Don't let me burn! No amount of preparation could arm me against the nightmares. With no voice and no advocate, would they stop my heart with grief?
The drug raced fiercely to my toes, weighing me down even more. I clenched my jaw against the strap and tried to yell, but my tongue was already paralyzed. As the warmth in my veins transformed to the same boiling heat of last night, I realized how incredibly alone I was.
She wasn't at my side. Wasn't asking frantic questions. Wasn't touching me, talking to me, encouraging me to take another breath. With all her strength and fortitude, she couldn't be kept away on purpose.
Of course. Flames licked my feet and reality faded away. I have no worth. No family. No future. Sigyn's abandoned me, too.
Vanir magic couldn't douse what waited to ignite the second I was vulnerable. With whatever sedative they'd given me, I was sapped of power and let myself drown in the river of fire, over and over again.
This was Odin's real punishment. To rob me of my hope and make me experience death for eternity. After all, a single death would be mercy—repeated, there was no relief.
Some visions had Mother, disappointed in me, tapping her foot from above. "You brought this on yourself," she growled, spitting as she spoke. Her twisted and evil caricature was far from my true memories, but every time she reappeared, I lost a little bit more of her reality.
"I know," I said, conceding to my fate again.
In others, Odin silently stood with his arms folded. He didn't need words. His mere presence was enough.
"I'm not your son," I said, bowing with a prayer for acceptance. "But I could do it." As I'd stay kneeling, he'd cut off my head.
As he'd done before, Thor teased. "You're not as smooth as you think you are."
I had no choice but to surrender so he'd help me. "Perhaps not. Please, Thor..."
"No, no, this is fascinating." He knelt closer to me, nearly meeting my eyeline while I sank into a growing sea of grasping souls which pulled me down with them. "The great master of sorcery, without his tricks, must now admit he needs my help."
"I do. I need it."
"And for what? So you can kill my father like you killed my mother?"
"It wasn't supposed to...I didn't..."
"You did, Loki," he screamed in my face. "I needed you once, and you made me suffer on purpose. It's your turn to do the same now."
His words suffocated me like the bandages keeping me still. I reached for him, but he didn't take it.
"You brought this on yourself," he said, blending his words and Mother's with the fury of Odin.
In a twisted cycle of reprisals, the nightmares continued. Had I been left alone on the rock, I would've been seared into the cliffside by the venom. It would've reached back through my centuries of life and wiped clean slates where tenderness once was. Any joy from success and even mischief would cease to exist. Even if I'd escaped on my own, I would have no self-worth left.
Thor's abandonment struck a nerve that the other visions didn't. I cried for him. "Forgive me, Thor. Forgive me for everything!"
"Starting with what?"
"With...with stealing your throne. By bringing the Jotuns. If I'd just let you ascend—"
"You think you wouldn't be here?" He shook his head. "You're one of them. A monster."
The words he said now were my own, and they cut deeper than any sword. Arrows to my heart. "I...I am."
"Right. You're Jotun. A Frost Giant. Thief. Unworthy of the throne. Unworthy of being Odinson. Unworthy of love. Your birthright—"
"Please don't say you regret my existence." I descended quickly, begging through sobs, "Thor, help me!"
"Why?" He lifted me enough to keep me still. "Can you think of any reason that isn't selfish?"
No. Self-preservation was all that remained.
"You can't. This is another trick, one that ends when you recover and do this all over again. You can't help yourself." Thor released me and turned away, showing me nothing but his bright red cape—the blood we'd never be.
He's right. I'm beyond help. Blackness all around meant a new vision was imminent, but my psyche was wrapped around itself, hugging my knees against my chest, rocking back and forth as I tried to shrink.
Familiar voices echoed off invisible walls, never settling or saying anything but my name. I covered my ears and screamed to drown them out.
My name is nothing, because I am nothing. To all gods who are listening, relieve Yggdrasil of my presence.
The chanting grew louder. Closer. Consuming me.
Almost here. I can feel it. I welcomed the end.
Yet the end didn't greet me. Tenderness did. Someone peeled my fingers open and enveloped my left hand in soft fabric. "Here. You're hurting yourself."
What? I took a few deep breaths, but the air didn't burn. My chest wasn't tight. Still surrounded by black, the flames were extinguished. Light poured in from above.
"Loki, can you hear me?" she said, sniffling through her words.
Only her voice remained, repeating my name sweetly, not shouting it like a curse. Sigyn?
Her sobs and sincere worry fetched me from the nightmares. "Gods, what have I done?"
I was back in the tent on Vanaheim, unable to see or speak. Their medicines did well with numbing my injuries to a widespread dull ache, but sharp sores in my left hand told me I'd clenched my fist so hard, my nails did damage to my palm. The cloth she gave me protected the skin while Sigyn pecked at my knuckles.
You're...you're still here?
"I don't know if I helped or not, but I'm so sorry I couldn't do more." Her tears rained on me—had they been currency, it would've amounted to more treasure than Odin ever dreamed of. She wept without speaking for a number of minutes until we were interrupted by the male healer from earlier.
"Whole village noticed he stopped bellowing. Is he awake?"
Sigyn sniffed and released my hand, clearly wiping her face. "I don't know. Please...I need more time with him."
"After you sang to a screaming man all night? Lady Sigyn, it's been hours. Grid says you need your rest."
Is that true? I wanted to search her eyes for comfort, but my memory of her deep blues would have to suffice. They were oceans of possibility that the snake's venom drained from me.
"And I will rest when I'm ready to. Leave me."
He cleared his throat loudly.
Her tone commanded respect and obedience. "Either leave me or take me. I'm not moving on my own."
He grumbled. "Fine. But I'm not responsible for your welfare as well as his, understand?"
"Yes. Thank you."
Shuffling sheets of the fabric door meant we were alone again. I tried to shift my tongue, but it still wouldn't budge, not that I could really speak with the strap in my mouth anyway.
Sigyn remained stout for a moment, but the tears returned in earnest. "I can't imagine what you're feeling. The way you screamed last night, and then again...your throat must be so sore. Not to mention your hand." She kissed it again, lingering with her soft lips. "This beautiful hand."
Something in her inflection wasn't sympathy. What are you thinking?
"I'm sorry I couldn't do what you asked. I wasn't strong enough." She massaged my exposed wrist as she continued, hypnotizing me with contact. "Grid—the woman who met us at the door—she said it's too soon to tell if they can do anything for you. I wish I knew how long was too long to let you go on like this. If Tee had wailed for more than a day, I would've found a way to end his misery. So I promise you, Loki. I..."—she sniffed hard again, almost squeaking through her pained declaration—"...if you're still in this much pain after a week, I promise to help you not feel pain ever again."
Beneath the bandages, I also shed tears, for her merciful offer and the answered prayer it was to hear it. I wept for all of her efforts—the scraps of her dress protecting my feet. The sacrifice of her life and her future. Sigyn's tender hand upon my cheek. And a fading memory of her body against mine, dancing in the starlight above the golden city. Sure, my suffering would end, but all our private joy would be lost, too.
"If the greatest gift my love can give is to let you go, I promise I'll do that." Sigyn gripped my hand steadily now, cautious enough not to give my sores grief. "I can't pretend that I'm not frightened or put on a brave face for this heartache. But here and now, in the dark, while I'm still at your side, I can tell you that I love you, Loki," she said, kissing my knuckle. "I do. I love your intellect. Your humor. The way you looked at me before falling asleep on my chest. I love all of you, so much. I'll get you peace somehow."
Love?
She wasn't trying to comfort me. She was giving me a peaceful goodbye.
With all my might, I commanded my hand to move, if only to let her know I was listening. It wasn't enough.
"They say someone is coming today with a gift...I'll see if anyone can tell me when they'll be here." Sigyn stood with a hiss, likely still suffering herself with whatever injuries she'd sustained the past few days.
Come on— I bit down on the strap and reached for her, praying all the while that my alertness meant the sedative would dissipate faster. Don't leave yet! With no other options, I tried to speak, only able to let out a meager whine.
But her ears were ready. "Loki?"
I reached again, and my fingertips tingled. Renewed sensation. It wasn't much, but I wasn't limp anymore.
"Gods, Loki!" She was at my side again, pecking all over my hand. "It's me. It's Ginny."
That's right. My Ginny. I wasn't well enough to think of her by only her sweet nickname, but her use of it said she still thought of me tenderly, unlike what my infected psyche insisted.
"Is there something you need? Anything I can do?" She was quiet for a moment, finally releasing my hand. "Your fingers splayed a bit...can you do it again? Or try to speak for me?"
Slowly, but with enough control to be clear, I nodded my fist.
"That's a...a yes? Looks like a yes."
[Yes.]
She sighed with melodic relief and joy—something absent from the past few days. "And what would no be?"
I shook it side to side this time, still at a glacial pace, yet understandable.
"I've got it. Yes and no. It's better than no answers at all. You need something? Anything?"
[Yes.] I spread my hand after, contemplating how I'd let her know precisely what I wanted. If only you could open your mind to me.
"Okay. I'm patient. Signal for me...I-I'll do my best."
What to do? It had to be simple. A few words at most to answer hers. Imagining the visuals, I pinched all my fingertips against my thumb twice, then traced a circle in the air with the forefinger.
She hummed. "It almost looks like...I don't know, maybe a mouth? Speaking?"
[Yes, yes.] Almost there. I waved my hand for her to keep going.
"So, talk? Speak? Say?"
I put my palm straight out for her to stop.
"Say?"
[Yes.] I did the whole motion over again, repeating the circle at the end for the last part.
"Say...round? Clock? Time? That can't be it. Have you said this to me before?"
[Yes.]
"Alright." Sigyn muttered, "Say...could be turn...like turn over? Say it's over?"
[No.]
"Not over. Repeat? Again? Say it again?"
[Yes. Say it again.] I signed it three times, then opened my hand for her to take it. Please understand.
She didn't take my offer and coughed a light snicker instead. "Say it again? Why would you want your name at a time like this?"
[No, no, no.] I opened and closed my fist in frustration.
"Not your name? Something else I said?"
What other way could I signal my wish? I ached to hear it and know it for certain. Longed for a new hope to propel my life. I waved her closer—once her hair brushed against me, I splayed my fingers until I met her warm cheek.
She was soft, as I remembered, though a slight clammy dampness was appropriate for how she'd cried before. I caressed her as best I could, letting my heart beat faster and higher. It sent rushes through my belly that bounced to my toes and the top of my head.
Sigyn cooed. "I miss you, Loki."
Just a little more. I found her earlobe and squeezed three times.
"You miss me?" She pulled away, clearly expecting a joyful answer.
[No.]
Her confusion was laced with disappointment. "No?"
I opened my hand for her again and waited patiently to be received. Once she brushed against me, I grasped her as quickly as I could, gaining more control by the moment. Again, with slow beats so she couldn't be mistaken, I squeezed three times.
"Oh, Loki..."—she slowed her words, but her breath quickened—"...you love me?"
I gripped hard, not letting go, then pulsed three times again. Yes. I love you. I let go to sign a final time, [Say it again.]
Sigyn cried, but this time, they were tears of joy. "I love you, Loki. I love you. I'll say it however many times you need. I love you." She covered my hand with more and more kisses and let me touch her face in our quiet but powerful conversation.
I had no family. I had no home. My power was sapped, and I was a shell of the man I once was. But with Sigyn, the woman who rescued and loved me, I had a new reason to fight off the fire and live until I could see her face again.