Chapter 16

Last redemption

NOTES:

Hi everyone and welcome back to Sing me one last song.

I don't really have much to tell you this time, so let's continue without further ado!

Hope you will enjoy,


'Is this truly all you can do?' the man said as he placed his hands behind his back, calmly staring at the panting trickster in front of him, 'Pathetic child…'

Loki glared at the man as he tried to catch his breath. He had tried to trick him, deceive him, slaughter him, but the stranger was fast and cunning. He saw through his play, through his lies and desperate attacks like it was all a child's game.

'Your Seiðr is weak, Your Highness,' the man smirked, 'but the Norns smile upon you in kindness, for there is another source, another core which could grand you strength.' He walked closer to the Liesmith, knowing he was at his limits, knowing that the Seiðr disguising his Jötunn form would not last much longer. 'Might I suggest you use it? I am quite curious of your form of origin.'

'I will never lower myself to use such vulgarity,' Loki hissed as he tried to conjure another dagger. 'I will not grand you that satisfaction!' he then charged towards the man, throwing a dagger aimed for his feet which the Vanir god swiftly evaded. This opening allowed the god to make his move, he clenched his hand into a fist, throwing all his strength into a one punch knock-out.

But his opponent was fast. He saw through the god's attack, grabbed his wrist and, in a smooth motion, threw him over his shoulder deep into the solid stone floor.

'Such a shame,' the man said as the dust settled. He leaned over the trickster, who was gasping for air after it got so forcefully knocked out of his lungs on impact. 'I know I will see such monstrosity the moment the last shimmer of light ebbs from those counterfeit emerald eyes of yours, for death always reveals one's true colors,' he said as he looked at Loki. Condemn, revulsion, coldness all showing in his dark brown eyes, 'but I would have loved to see it in a more… vivid state.'

Loki gritted his teeth as he tried to move his body, his eyes growing wide as he noticed that he could not move. Not his arms, nor legs. Not even the tip of his fingers. He was exhausted, his body had started to reach its limit. The imprisonment, the fact that the Allfather still held most of his Seiðr, sleep deprivation and lack of nourishments have started to gain its toll. He cursed under his breath as he stared at the ceiling.

'I will give you another chance, Liesmith,' The stranger stated as he grabbed the hilt of the dagger Loki had thrown at him mere seconds ago, 'Your brother, the prince of Asgard, I would have liked to keep him just a little longer in my,' he then looked at Loki, 'our hands.' His attention was then pulled back to the shimmering dagger, studying it with a keen eye. 'But then again, the damaged we were able to inflict on his body and mind should be enough to scar him for the rest of his life. It will haunt him, keep him from eating, from sleep, from ever daring to be close to another soul, another spirit. He will come to notice so soon enough, and, in his despair, will take his own life.' He walked back towards the raven, the leather boots softly tapping against the dusty floor. Light steps, slow steps, echoing through the empty void. 'I ask of you, monster, please, do not think ill of me, for I only want what is best for Frigga.' He whispered as he kneeled down next to the raven, placing the dagger in his motionless hands. 'Surely, you understand.'

The trickster glared at him, his jaws hurting from keeping them locked so tightly, his rage darkening what once were bright emerald eyes. Was this truly all he could do? The pitiful attempts to stop this man, the meaningless tricks he had played to end the stranger's life on the tip of his dagger?

Was this how he was going to retaliate his brother and captain? Was this all he could to purify the name of his mother? Was this enough to hush his conscience, to tell himself that he had done all he could? Was this how he would be an Avenger?

'I believe enough precious blood has been spilt and I would not want another light to vanish from any of your friends' eyes,' the man continued, his voice soft, his face hovering close to that of the trickster as Loki still lay on the ground, only a few inches of thin air separating the two. 'but I cannot stop, not unless you give my precious flower her freedom you once took,' he spoke in a voice which Loki could only interpret as hopeless, a call born from sorrow and misunderstanding, an anguished plead for this all to end.

The trickster looked the man in the eye. He did not know what angered, no, confused him more. The way the man spoke of his mother like he truly cared for her or the way his words sounded like he was a mere victim, chosen by the cruel hands of fate to carry the burden of torturing all who stand in his way.

'You have the power to end all of this, right here, right this moment,' The man whispered as he placed the dagger he was holding in the trickster's hand, 'free me, your mother, all your friends… Free yourself…' he added as he wrapped his lean fingers around those of the raven, making him close his hand and hold on to the weapon himself. His hand then moved from Loki's hand to his shoulder, his fingers scanning the trickster's skin as they trailed the blood vessels underneath, 'You know what to do, Loki…'

'… If I do this,' the god whispered after swallowing thickly, 'will you leave my friends be?' he then felt a tear trickling down his cheek as he stared at the ceiling, forcing himself to utter the words that made his brain spin like a carousel. 'If I would take my own life, would you grand peace to those I hold so dear?'

'I will leave the mortals be, yes,' the man nodded as his hands trailed from the raven's shoulder to his chest, 'just one simple cut, Jötunn, that will do. I grand it to you, it will… sting, mostly, but after that, it will be like falling asleep.' He whispered as he now carefully moved a strain of raven hair behind the trickster's ear. 'No fears, no pain, no endless suffering. It is merely eternal sleep that will befall on you.'

'And when I am gone, you will go and aid Thor, am I correct?' Loki said as he gulped, 'you will help him see the way to end his misery, just like you are so mercifully helping me at this moment?'

'Yes, and it will all be to free you mother,' the man said and although a smile appeared on his face, his eyes remained hollow, like staring straight into a soulless body, an empty husk. 'I am so glad you have come to understand so.'

'Oh, I understand,' Loki replied, followed by a scoffing chuckle, which must have struck the stranger as odd as a confused frown formed on his face, 'I understand so well.'

'Then, by all means,' the man whispered close to his ear, 'end this. For all of us, end this.'

A silence followed.

The sound of metal scraping against the stone floor echoed through the chamber as Loki moved his hand to raise his weapon. Cold metal against soft skin, cutting through in complete surrender, without any form of resistance.

Blood dripping to the floor. First, it was a ticking, like the passing hands of a clock, drops of perfect ruby slowly hitting the dark floor, one by one. After this, the flow of red liquid started to sound like the falling of spring rain, gentle but unmistakably present and increasing.

'It is as you said,' Loki whispered, 'a sting, followed by nothingness.' He pulled the weapon from the warm flesh, the blood now soaking deep into every fiber his tunic. 'How peaceful.'

The stranger, who was until now hovered over the trickster's body, sat up straight, his eyes growing wide as he looked at his own stomach and saw how Loki's dagger had pierced his flesh. His hand gliding over his clothes as his fingertips scanned for the wound. He then looked at the trickster, who, with a chuckle, laid his blood covered hand to rest on the floor again, his weapon dissolving in a green mist.

'I understand so well,' Loki continued, 'it is an illusion, an illness of the mind, to destroy each and everything which crosses your path in order to obtain that which you deem to be rightfully yours,' he then turned his head and looked at the man with tired eyes, an unmistakable grin on his face, 'we are so much alike, you and I.'

The Vanir god stared at Loki and then back at his wound, observing the blood that had now stained his hands bright red. His breathing became shallow, his expression, once again, filled with sorrow as he shook his head, 'I am so sorry,' he uttered at which Loki frowned, 'I truly hoped my words would reach you, but it seems like you still do not understand.' He looked at Loki, hurt and desperation written on his face, 'You leave me no choice, Jötunn,' he said as he stood up, not a hint of pain twitching his face. 'truly, you did not believe such a pitiful wound will relieve me from my burden? Would stop me from carrying out that what gives me purpose?'

For a second, Loki's world stopped in complete shock. His mind was blank. There were no clever words, no witty remarks on which he came to rely on so much throughout his life. His heart seemed to stop as it felt like his lungs had collapsed, denying his body from oxygen.

'I am so sorry that it must come to this,' the Vanir said as an emotionless smile formed on his face. He then used his Seiðr to disguise himself in a figure Loki had come to know so well through the captain's nightmares and memories.

Now clothed in a long black leather coat, the characteristic red skull and six tentacles sewn on its shoulders, the man turned around and headed for the stairs, 'I will make sure that the first life will be claimed tonight. By your choice, by your actions, or rather, the action which you wished to ignore, the blood that shall be spilt tonight, shall be on your hands and yours alone.'

'No…' Loki whispered as he managed to sit up straight, 'NO!' he screamed and reached out as the man took his first step up the stairs, his vision becoming blury, shadows dancing in his vision as his body could hardly keep him from collapsing.

'Until we meet again, Trickster of Asgard.' The Vanir said as he walked up the stairs.

Exhausted.

Cold.

Humiliated.

Defeated.

Guilt stirring the core of his soul to the point where his body writhed in agony. His conscience screaming at him, asking him what he was thinking to not pierce his own heart with the very dagger he thought he could defeat the Vanir with.

But he couldn't.

Even if he wanted to, he did not have the strength nor energy left to conjure another dagger and stop his breath. He managed to sit up straight, crawling towards a wall where his back could rest against the damp stone. Tears uncontrollably running down his face as he had come to realize what he had done.

Stand up, he had to stand up and chaise after the man. He had to make right what he had so foolishly done wrong.

But he couldn't.

His body would not move, anymore. The trickster sighed as he hanged his head in defeat and closed his eyes in shame.

At that very moment, when Loki thought all was lost, he heard feet moving across a stone flooring. Slowly, first one, then another. Someone was walking down the stairs. He then looked up, his ears pinned back as he listened for any other sounds. He heard another pair of feet slowly but firmly making their way down. There were two. Two people making their way down the stairs.

Could it be the archer and the widow?! Loki found himself wondering as his heart started beating loudly in his chest.

No, it could not be, for he had left them. He abandoned them when the Vanir had called for him, leaving his two Midgardian friends vulnerable to the poisonous fog. He then started to wonder why it was that the poison has not yet claimed his life, for he had walked straight through it when he descended the many stairs in search of the stranger. His mind did not grand him any time to think this over, for his attention got once again pulled towards the stairs at the end of the room.

His eyes went wide as he saw the exact same man who had just left this crypt coming down, his hands raised in defeat as he walked backwards. Loki then squinted as he saw the cause of the man's humble movements, for walking in front of him was a woman with eyes so stern it made the trickster shiver.

She walked down the stairs, her eyes on the Vanir, her body language so grave that it was enough to make the man move backwards without a single word spilt from her mouth.

'My dearest,' the man said as he lowered his hands, a desperate smile forming on his face.

'Kneel,' the woman commanded, her voice so profound that the man did as he was told, kneeling to both knees without any form of hesitation.

'Mother…' Loki managed to call out as he watched the gracious goddess.

But Frigga did not look up. Her eyes were locked on those of the man at her feet, who simply smiled at her in relief.

'I can explain,' the man tried again.

'I have no need for your words,' Frigga's voice was cold, emotionless, a side of her which the trickster had never seen before. 'Loki?' she called, though her eyes never strayed from the man.

'Yes, mother,' Loki said as he forced every muscle in his body to stand up and, without knowing how exactly, he got to at least lean against the wall as his legs tried to support his body.

'This man,' Frigga continued, her head slightly raised as she looked down on him, her peering eyes alone enough to keep him captive, 'is he the one we have been searching for?'

Loki stared at his mother for a second and nodded, 'Yes, he is,' he said as he forced his body to walk towards the two. 'We should take him back home, he will face Asgardian justice for what he did to my friend…! To Thor!' he hissed in a voice so dark it was hardly recognizable as his own. 'I will make him suffer,' he continued, 'in any form I know possible. Slowly, intimately, even if it will take me years, I will-!'

But as the Allmother raised her hand, the trickster stopped talking and looked at her in confusion. 'Mother?'

'Reveal yourself, fraud,' she commanded, causing the Vanir to drop his disguise, revealing his true identity.

'My dearest,' the man whispered, 'how I have longed for the day the Norns would let our paths cross again.'

'Then the Norns must have answered to both our pleads,' Frigga said as she let her Seiðr embrace her faultless body, creating a heavy armor of pure white.

'…Yes,' the man whispered breathlessly, his eyes shimmering as they filled with tears.

'State your name, stranger.'

'My Deity,' the Vanir begin with a desperate smile, 'do you not recognize me anymore?' he asked as he slightly moved forward. 'We have met before, do you not recall?' but as the woman stared at him with a questioning expression, the man explained, 'I got captured after the great war between the gods of Vanaheim and Asgard and it was you who spared my life, you who blessed me with mercy, you who asked that horrid vulture Odin to send me to everlasting confinement instead of instant death.'

'Everlasting confinement, yet here you are,' Frigga said as she held out her hand, calling forth a white sword with golden hilt. 'you managed to escape.'

'Indeed,' the Vanir smiled as he now crawled at the woman's feet, his hands eagerly clenched onto the divinity's golden cape. 'I heard you, my dearest. Your plead for help, your call for me to free you from all that bound you to the bloodline of Odin, to the throne. The moment you spared my life, I understood that you were merely calling out to me,' he smiled and whispered, 'I saw it in your eyes.'

'Mother would never call for such a thing!' Loki hissed as he fell to his knees again, 'you are deluding yourself, creature of Vanaheim, and I will make sure you will pay for your deeds!' the trickster clenched his teeth as he noticed that his words fell on death ears.

'Vanir,' Frigga continued, 'Do you plead guilty of torturing the first-born prince of Asgard, Thor Odinson?'

'Yes, my dearest,' the man nodded, his smile never fading, 'you will come to see th-'

'And do you plead guilty of torturing a mortal of Midgard to the cruelest extend?'

'…For you, my love, Yes,' he nodded again, 'I did.'

'Mother, this is all the confession we need,' Loki said as he softly panted. 'We can take him to the palace and…!' but the trickster stopped mid-sentence as he watched the queen raise her sword, placing it on the man's shoulder.

'The Norns have made us cross paths once more,' Frigga spoke, her voice cold and distant, denying herself to let her rage, her burning hatred to ring through her words, 'I made a grieve mistake, once, but fate has allowed me to redeem. For your crimes against Asgard, against Midgard, I shall now bestow upon you my judgment. May the goddess of death take your soul in greed, may the feeling of contentment and peace never more reach your tormented spirit.' She raised her sword, speaking the final words before lowering it with a swift movement, 'It is here that our paths will separate again. Farewell, cruel god of Vanaheim.'


NOTES:

and that's it for this chapter, thank you all for spending your precious free time on my story!
please let me know your thoughts in the comments.

Lots of Love,
The Netherlands!