Chapter 4

Was her deliberate and abrupt departure a ruse to cause this disconcerting silence? Rubbing his brow he continues to ponder. I cannot possibly keep this up, this consistent concern over her meaning, playing this game; it will only leave me unfocused. Whether she had intended this or not, it would be unwise to ignore the reaction she elicits in me.

The days have been long since she had last left him. He spent those vacant weeks impatiently fretting about, mulling over the tomes that Frigga kept sending his way, and watching the other prisoners in hopes of learning anything from them, but nothing peaked his interest much.

On one such day, he paces in his cell, the boredom of confinement eating at his mind. Perhaps I shall go insane, and on such day, this city will certainly burn. With his thoughts brooding, he turns around to begin another anxious lap to find Frigga patiently standing in her motherly way. Sighing, he brusquely sits down and acknowledges her, "Do you plan on leaving me to rot here with nothing but these ceaseless piles of books?"

"You underestimate how difficult it is for me to allocate even that for you, my son. Even now, my presence here has been highly forbidden. I can only appear to you secretly in this form, and not for long."

"Why take such a risk?" He retorts, his sight turned away from her.

Frigga remains silent, watching Loki calmly with a sad smile adorning her expression.

He rolls his eyes impetuously, and turns his attentions over to witness shuffling captives being herded into a cell. With less edge to his words, he dismally remarks, "Odin continues to bring me new friends. How thoughtful."

"You are wounded, but it would be wise not to sulk, my son. After all, it was your own endeavors that placed you in confinement. I wish there were more I could do for you, but the decree is final."

"And, yet you are here despite Odin's orders."

"Your father…"

Loki rises swiftly, standing dominantly over Frigga. "He is not my father…this you know very well. Tell me, why are you so keen to ignore his demand now, and not when he instructed you to make sure the truth of my heritage remain unrevealed to me? Stop fretting over me as if you were my mother."

"Do you truly believe that I am not? Look at me again, and tell me directly that you do not feel the bond linking mother and son between you and I." She challenges.

His eyes meet hers as they have many times before. Whenever cast aside as a child, she was always there to soothe me, and here she stands once more with that same look. Immediately, his air changes. Lowering his gaze, shoulders relaxing, he steps forward to embrace her, but as his hands touch hers, her image slowly starts to fade. Just before the apparition disappeared entirely, he whispers solemnly, "Goodbye mother."

After a few moments of deafening silence, anger fiercely rises up in Loki. His movements frantic, he reaches for his hair and pulls while letting out a grieving roar. Collapsing into a standing crouch, he gradually regains his composure.'My whereabouts shall always be known to you if you search.' Her words suddenly filled his mind. Eira… Focusing his thoughts, he reaches out for her consciousness; I just need a distraction, a break to this unending boredom. After a short time, his eyes open to reveal question dancing within their gleam. She's here… She's in Asgard.

Accessing her presence once more he observes her walking alongside Fandral, smiling modestly as he stares down at her presumptuously. Looking through the viewpoint of her companion, Loki notices the mischievous upturn in the corner of her mouth. What are you doing? Intrigue befalls him quickly, his heart quickening as he forcefully keeps his veneer composed. He continues to examine the situation.

Fandral begins to reach out to pull her closer, but she slyly shies away. Turning to him in departure, she falters and peers deeper into his eyes. Loki laughed in his cell as he perceived recognition in them. Touching her hand to Fendral's cheek, she leans closer to whisper. "Well hello, there."

"Hello? My dear, I thought you to depart?" Fandral croons.

"Yes, you are quite right. My thoughts simply became distracted. You reminded me of someone else for a moment. That's all. Farewell and thank you for your conversation, you were very… helpful."

"It's not often a visitor comes to Asgard, especially one as exquisite as you. I was happy to educate you on its customs."

She smiles tightly, with pity strewn in, and a slight disgust ingrained throughout. Nodding slightly, she turns and saunters off.

Will you be coming to visit me, then? Loki projected playfully and almost endearingly. Now that you are done brooding.

You truly do keep your output constantly capricious, don't you?

Best to keep people guessing.

Even yourself?

Loki chuckling at her response moves to a chair, pulling out parchment in pretense of reading it. If not moping, I wonder where you have been, then.

I've been busy.

Apparently.

Remaining silent, she continues her walk down a golden cobblestone path following a rushing creek.

I can't help but to ask how you actually got here. I can't imagine your means were as easy as traveling the bridge.

No. They were not.

Keeping your output especially brusque today, are we? Perhaps you need more time to glower. Shall I leave you to continue your little tantrum?

It is her turn to laugh, which she does quite suddenly as bystanders eye her nervously. My mind is occupied already, Loki, with important thoughts. I have no time for your diversions.

Is that so. He merely states.

Things are changing in this universe of yours. Not only can I feel it, but certain places have less solidity. They appear to glimmer as if merely a mirage. I walked through a wood, following that energy, to find myself directly in the middle of a bustling city crowd. I continued to search, and I found that there are indeed some locations where not only the space between places are fragile, but the space between worlds has been weakened as well.

You found one such portal that led you to Asgard?

Correct. After delicate studies and extended searching. The effect seems to be strongest in Midgard. The very center. I believe the cause to come from the planetary alignment. The unique forces that surround each world being forced upon each other or rather perhaps lining up perfectly, opening doors that were previously shut.

I know what you speak of. Stories were told when I was a child. I haven't thought of it since, but I suppose the time for that indeed approaches again.

Something is coming, Loki. Prepare yourself. Her tone caught between apprehension and anticipation.

Suddenly, she appears in his room and sensing her immediately, he turns around to view her.

"Fandral is quite innovative with his flatteries, is he not? Known as the Golden Tongue amongst the people."

"I prefer a Silver Tongue for, though they revel in illusion, they can also reveal deep truths. A Golden Tongue may keep many a maiden damp, but it slides unpleasantly off me, like honey to the flesh. A steady silver flowing or a sticky golden slopping? I am certainly no buzzing fly wishing to be caught in sweet promise." She chanted poetically, her laugh chiming at the end. "Did you miss me?" She says raising her eyebrow.

"I certainly did not." He smirks.

"I told you I was busy."

"Then why are you here?"

"You were being intrusive and insistent. I really had no choice, did I?"

"I suppose then, if had the chance, you would very much dislike your own company."

Sitting down across from him, a serious air overcomes her. "Something is coming. I can feel it in the energy. Something isn't right, Loki. I both fear it and desire it. Surely, you have noticed."

"I have been tense these past few days, but that could very well be solely due to the fact that I've been imprisoned or it could be because the worlds are aligning, or most likely a mixture of both."

"Though, silver tongues can oft be a bit touchy when they don't get their way." She says offhandedly. Suddenly, her projection flickers as her attentions alter, her head turns quickly. "Loki… something has happened", she utters before vanishing.

He heard crashing in the halls above him and very dimly heard screaming, but still he sat patiently while his senses sharpened. He feels it suddenly, a dread and excitement. Asgard has been attacked. Looking over swiftly, he responds as one of the cells across the hall shattered open as a large, bestial creature steps forth. The absconder makes his way down the corridor, freeing all the prisoners, as chaotic battle breaks forth amongst them and the guards. But, the monster stops at Loki's cage and regards him heavily. Loki tilts his chin up properly, assuming the position of someone unafraid and nonthreatening, but the slightly crouched positioning in his shoulders give off a feral threat as he paces slowly side to side, staring steadily back at the escaped prisoner. They both inspect each other for a moment before the brute scoffs and walks off.

"You might want to take the stairs to the left" Loki yells out. The prisoner turns back briefly to view Loki smiling deviously after him before taking the stairs to the right.

"Idiot." Loki speaks aloud and turns away from the situation. Brother should be arriving soon to clean this mess up… how lazy and stupid of Odin… and his precious son… to have let this happen. If I were but free... With anger again on his brow; he veers off to the back of his room. With his hands shaking and his breath heavy, the desire of battle burns like fire in his eyes and the longing of freedom heavy in his step.

After some time, the scene calms and silence descends, but still no one comes to Loki's cell to provide information. Impatient, he continues his usual pace, stopping every now and then to look out into the hall. Finally, he seats himself, staring at the floor, his fingers writhing in worry. Why does no one come?

Another half hour passes before someone eventually addresses his cell. He speaks one sentence in a solemn, timid voice, pauses in respect until Loki displays a quiet nod releasing him to his other duties. Loki stands and walks back slowly and composed even as sorrow caves in his chest. Stopping, the grief filling him, he tenses up, pulling his energy inward, compressing it until no longer possible, and then he releases it. His furniture splays across the room, shattering from the force.

Standing there stolidly, he senses her enter his room, not her image, but her... in the flesh.

Turning to her, his eyes breaking like frozen ice, a angry snarl growing across his fair features as he turns away, flaring debris away from him. She stands there rigid… "Loki…" she whispers. He turns around and slaps her against the cheek, grabbing her with his other arm by the neck, strands of her hair twisted and knotted around his fingers. He raises her against the wall and screams, his lips pulled tight, her ears ringing. She keeps her face still, her eyes sharp. She does not yell, she does not cry. His face softens, his eyes large and vulnerable again, he looks at his hand holding her and notices the anger in them. Letting out a quick, quiet sob, he slowly sets her down, looking down to broken wood on the floor, the torn sheets, and pulls his hands away from her. He bends over, running his hands through his hair once more; they slowly began to grip and pull as his screaming continues, "No! No! You weak, arrogant fools." Standing up he paces, "Let me out! Let me out of here!" But no guards, were they paying attention, could see his tantrum. She hid his true self through a vision. All they would see was Loki sitting facing away, calm, still, deadly.

Finally, once she realizes he will not be recovering soon, she grips him. He is thrown against the wall as she stands with her hands behind her back. He kicks and flails, but he cannot escape her mental bonds. She stands directly in front of him, she lowers him down on his knees so he is eventually forced to look slightly up at her. He regains some composure as she gazes down on him sadly and kneels down, resting her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him. She whispers into the soft of his neck, "I am so sorry." Shaking still, his eyes glazed over, his face stolid. He wraps his arms around her numbly, setting his chin on her shoulder, collapsing from his knees against the wall. Situating herself to sit in between his splayed legs, she dares to voice her thoughts, "This is your chance Loki, you know this. He will come."

His voice slightly raspy and nasally, his face soggy and ragged, he drags his gaze up to meet hers, "I know. He comes now."

Tall and brooding, dark and golden Thor's presence drank in the scenery around him as he stood in front of the jail cell. Loki took full control of the mirage, "Brother! Why is it you have come to see me after all this time?"

Thor's voice booming like the cracking thunder, "No more illusions Loki."

His spirit shattered, and the image around him quickly vanished, there he sat, whiter than snow, eyes darkly socketed, his hair loosely hanging and wiry. Clothes torn, bruised and bloody. Still remaining unseen, she watched their interaction carefully. She saw his walls crumble, she saw pity for himself bloom in his eyes. At last she thought to herself humility. He shows his real emotions every now and then, those who see it ever more weary. They never know what is real and what is not… he uses truth when he knows it will suit him well. "Did she suffer?" He still had some play in his voice, some last attempt at retaining his prideful facade.

She watched Thor wearily as he spoke with his brother. She noted how time has hardened him, wizened him. But, he is not the only one who has grown. You come to him for help, you assume he is the same man with the same weaknesses, the same talents as before. He is no longer ashamed, he has been humiliated, but he never faltered from his desires. He never said he was wrong, he has his reason, he now has the conviction he hadn't before. You don't trust him, that is obvious, but you shouldn't trust your own strength to defeat him so readily either.

As Thor thumps out of the room, she peers over at Loki and smiles slightly. The corner of his lips rose into a quiet clever smile, some light returning to his eyes. Pushing the thoughts of his mother aside for another time, an ability he is the master of, he painfully stands up and stands next to her, his fingers gracing the bruises on her neck, brushing back the hair on her shoulder with his other hand as he did so. He looked up in a teasing meekness, "I am sorry about this."

"About what?" She looks down at where he touches her lightly, "This? A mere price to pay to have the privilege of watching a godly fit. Quite an entertaining show." She gleamed.

He pulled her close to him, his eyes burning, a smile spread tight across his face "Is that so? Well, don't pity me…"

"Fear you then?" She interrupted.

He laughed, "No…" He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "Yearn for me." He growls. His words cause her grip on his arms to tighten, her breath withdrawing back in. He steps back, "I am getting out. I'm truly getting out."

"And now you are better equipped, not so boisterously boastful." That ever present clever gleam in her eyes.

He lets out a quiet laugh, "I still don't trust you."

She smiles broadly, "Who said you should?"

"Oh?" He pulls her closer and adorns her lips with his entrenched kisses, pausing between his subtle tasting to utter "I suppose…no one ever really did say… that I should." His advance grows hungrier as his hands press harder, roughly ravishing her. "You may have some level of influence on me, woman" he purrs, "but, do not assume for a moment that I have no sway over you."

A guard walks by and stops at Loki's cell, seeing the torn furniture and the raggedy prince pressing a young woman against the back corner of his cell. He watches him kissing her heavily while his hands move enticingly up and down her form, and the sentry becomes slightly aroused as her fingers tighten their grip on his mid back, firmly pushing Loki inside of her. With her mouth opening, a long groan escapes her and her back arches as he begins to passionately move in rhythm, his long pale fingers entangled in the waves of her hair.

Jolting suddenly, the guard shakes his head and continues on, mumbling as he goes, "You sick, sad man", dismissing the scene as just another of Loki's twisted realities.

But, before getting too far, the guard overhears Loki cry out loud enough to make him turn to observe the scene once more. What he hears makes him second guess his previous conclusion, but the impossibility of the alternative overcomes his second of doubt. Yet, as he walks away from the cell, Loki's words replay in his thoughts, "Sigyn… I name you."