Chapter 6

I needed answers, and I needed them now.

I wanted to believe it had all just been a dream. That at least would have made sense. But as I looked in the mirror at the dark purple marks along my neck, even I knew a dream was not capable of that. Running my fingers along them, however, I couldn't help but feel a ghost of arousal wash over me.

Dressing to cover the marks, as I did not want or even know how I would explain them, I began to try to formulate a plan to get into the prison to confront Loki. Of course he would probably visit me at night again, but there had been days between the last two visits, and I was in no mood to wait. I carried Emma down to the healers, finding Lydia to watch her, and I made my way to the library in search of Frigga. If I had a chance of anyone assisting me, she was my best hope.

When I reached the library, I looked in only to discover she was not there. Cursing under my breath, I headed for the courtyard, hoping she was perhaps watching over Thor as he trained with the other soldiers of Asgard. But when I got there, she was nowhere to be found. Thor, however, was. I waved him over, and once he noticed he jogged up to me with a warm smile. "Good morning!" he greeted. "Is there something you need?"

"Yeah. Your mother. Where is she?" I asked.

"I have not seen her," he answered. "Perhaps I can assist you?"

"No, I need her," I said, trying my best not to sound impatient. My neck was becoming irritated under the scarf I wore around it, and I massaged the tender area, taking care not to move the scarf enough to reveal what I was hiding. "If you see her, can you let her know I'm looking for her?"

"Of course," he said with a nod, his eyes going to my neck. I stopped massaging it immediately and nodded in thanks before running off. After nearly an hour of searching, I gave up and returned to fetch my daughter, knowing she would be getting hungry soon.

I wasn't sure when exactly I had nodded off, but the gentle knocking at my door snapped me out of sleep, Emma laying on my chest with her thumb in her mouth as she slept soundly, and I called out gently, trying not to startle her, "Come in."

The door opened slowly, and Frigga poked her head in, smiling at the sight of Emma and I. "Forgive me if I woke you," she said apologetically.

"You didn't," I lied, carefully sitting up and crossing my legs so I could lay Emma in my lap.

"I'm sorry I was not there when you went in search of me. I had some things I had to attend to," she said as she walked over to me, sitting down on the bed.

"That's okay," I said, stroking Emma's head lovingly. "I needed to ask a favor and… I think you're probably the only one who can help me."

"What do you need from me?" she asked.

I paused, trying to ready myself for the response I was sure to have and said firmly, "I need to get into the prison to speak with Loki… face to face."

She raised her eyebrows and shook her head. "That's not possible."

"It has to be," I persisted. "You're the queen, surely you can-"

"The king has forbidden visitors of any sort to Loki's cell," she cut in. "Even I'm not allowed to see him."

I took a deep breath, knowing I needed to tread carefully. "But that doesn't stop you…" I said softly. Her expression became solemn, and I spoke quickly. "You bring books to him, I know you do. You must know a way to get in and out without Odin or the guards stopping you."

"Even if I did know of a way, why would you want this?" she asked. "Have the nightmares returned?"

Swiftly, I reached up to the scarf and tugged it off, revealing the bite marks along my neckline. "They aren't dreams," I said as she looked them over with wide eyes.

"What happened to you?" she gasped, and I threw the scarf back on, wrapping it almost too tightly.

"I just need a few minutes with him and that's all. I need answers."

"I'm afraid that's not possible," she said almost dismissively. "And frankly your nightmares are hardly a reason to confront my son." I stared at her in disbelief. How could she not believe me when the bruises were there clear as day?

"…you think I did this in my sleep?" I asked, pointing to my neck. Realizing this was not going to play out the way I needed it to, I tried a different angle. "Maybe I did do this in my sleep. Maybe it's all been a nightmare and it was too realistic for me to tell the difference. Maybe I'm just crazy… but what if I'm not?" She lowered her eyes and sighed with a frown. "Please…" I begged. "I just want to know what's happening to me."

The mattress tilted as she stood up and made her way to the door. "You need to let this go," she said.

"I-"

But before I could finish my objection, she turned with a look that made me shrink back. She may have been kind in taking me under her wing, but that didn't stop her from looking positively intimidating in that moment. "There are no answers for you there," she said in a firm voice. "For your own sake… please. Let this go." With that she left and I closed my eyes, sighing in frustration.

I was not ready to admit defeat. Later in the afternoon I summoned Lydia again to watch Emma, claiming I needed some fresh air, and I made my way outside, keeping an eye on the prison as I formed a new plan. I hated thinking about how much easier this would be if Frigga had simply helped me, but since that was no longer an option I was left up to my own devices.

As I approached the prison, I quickly took in the important details I needed, such as how many guards were placed to stand watch over the outside alone and which entrance the servants used. While I did my best to remain hidden, I couldn't shake the suspicion that I was being watched. I could only hope the fact no one had stopped me yet was a sign that I was simply paranoid.

Sever minutes went by before I spotted a servant girl make her way in through the side entrance, followed a few minutes later by another… and then later another. It must have been time to feed the prisoners or tend to their cells in some way, I realized. A plan entered my head, and while I figured out the details, I couldn't silence the little voice of reason inside me that was practically screaming I was being an idiot. I made my way to the palace door they were coming from and as soon as I was sure it was clear, I slipped in. The room I had stepped into appeared to be some sort of laundry room, clothing that clearly belonged to the servants littered about, and I picked up a dress that matched the ones the maids had been wearing as well as a change of shoes, then ducked out of sight, throwing the dress over my own clothes and changing out my shoes, placing my own so they were hidden from sight.

No one from the prisons knew what I looked like, so I didn't waste time looking for some sort of hood or bonnet to hide under before I made my way down, doing my best to act nonchalant as I approached the guards. I was barely looked over before they nodded their approval and allowed me to pass. Inside, I found the other maids in a smaller room that was off to the side, each of them picking up different supplies, and I made an attempt to follow suit before one of them barged in, tossing a comb and scissors to the floor in a flustered rage.

"I don't need this!" she cried. "That bastard can bathe himself! I don't care who's son he is!" I raised an eyebrow, watching as she stormed off, and one of the other maids sighed.

"Well that's just great…" she grumbled, then her eyes fell on me. "You there." I froze. "You're new aren't you?" I nodded silently. "Good. Then you can take him. He's in the corner cell to the left just down the row. You'll see him."

"What do I do?" I asked, picking up the comb and scissors, stuffing them in my dress pocket.

"You really are new, aren't you," she chuckled. "When you enter the cell, there will be a switch, the guard can show you where, and it'll open the bathing chamber behind his cell. You have to wash him, and collect any dirty clothing to be washed. Everything you'll need should be in there." I nodded and headed out, trying to ignore the looks on the other maids faces, almost as though I were a sheep headed to the slaughter.

The hall lead out into the prison, and I was amazed at how beautiful something as grim as a prison cell could look. The white stone, the, what looked like, glass walls with a golden design that seemed to appear and fade as it lightly traced itself from one edge to the other… it looked more like a fancy museum with criminals on display when compared to the prisons back home.

I came to the first spot where the aisle broke out into a left turn, and sitting in the corner cell with his nose in a book, was Loki. Keeping in mind he had just driven a maid away in tears, I approached with caution, glad that he seemed too absorbed in his book to notice me.

A guard was waiting outside his cell, and as I approached, he stepped up to the barrier, casting a spell on it to make an opening just large enough for me to step through. Once I was on the other side, I heard it close, sealing me inside. I paused, waiting to see if Loki would look up and notice, but he was still too involved with his book to see me. Looking to the back wall, I noticed a raised square panel, and I walked up to it, pressing my palm against it. The wall opened and I poked my head through, spotting the tub sitting in the middle of small chamber, and a light came on as I entered.

I kept my eyes on the entrance as I began to fill the tub with water. When I saw his shadow begin to stretch through the opening, I pulled back into a corner, turning my back to him while I busied myself selecting towels and washcloths, expecting to be caught at any second. Instead I heard the sounds of him removing his clothing and dropping it haphazardly in a pile off to the side before walking over to the tub and climbing in, his back to me as he reclined back and rested his head against the edge.

I watched him for several minutes, unable to look away as the trickster god seemed to slip into a state of pure tranquility in the water. I was convinced in the moment he truly had no idea I was there… let alone what I was planning.

Glancing to the side I spotted a pitcher and several bottles of soaps and oils, and I selected what I needed before moving behind him, daring to get a look at his face. His eyes were closed but I couldn't shake the feeling of suspicion that was beginning to creep over me. This was too easy.

After moving to the other end of the tub to turn off the water, I dipped the pitcher in the water to fill it, then made my way behind him again, kneeling down with the pitcher in hand. "Tilt forward a bit please," I said and he sighed, seeming irritated to have to move from his relaxed position, and he sat upright, his eyes open but fixated on the wall in front of him. Slowly, I poured the pitcher of water over his hair to soak it, and placed a hand on his shoulder to signal him to lean back, my free hand reaching into my dress pocket as I bit into my lip. My pulse was racing and I did the best I could to summon up the courage I'd had the night I made my escape with Emma. I could only hope this would go more smoothly.

"I thought I made it clear that I prefer to have my hair washed last," he grumbled, and I moved my hand from his shoulder to his hair, seizing a fistful and tugged his head back violently, his skull bouncing off the edge of the tub with a loud "thunk!" Before he could do anything, I whipped the scissors out of my pocket and pressing the tip into his throat.

His eyes opened and he simply stared up at me, a wide grin spreading across his face as he began to laugh.

"Hello, Anna."