Son of No One II
The first thing she realized was that the cold no longer stung at her skin and bones, and secondly, when she was able to pry her eyes open, that she was surrounded by ice and green.
Sigyn tried to turn her head and barely managed to do so without throwing up… more ice and green, and a man-person, someone who blended in so with the ice behind him that was it not for his blood-red eyes she would not have seen him.
She fought the urge to let out a whimper, or a scream, or any sound that willed itself from her person.
"Who…you?" may her weak voice be damned to the fiery pits of Muspelheim! She burned with embarrassment; she was sure that he now thought her simple and weak.
"I should ask you that question, little girl-you are the one in my home, the one in my bed." She burned even more-in his bed?
She was silent; mute as a fish…she wished that the green sheets around her would swallow her whole.
How could this…whatever in Hel of death he was, have just brought her here? She didn't even remember how or why she was in this ice fortress in the first place. In all truth it was he who was making her so uncomfortable. The way his blood-red gaze sat upon her made her feel as if he wanted something from her…he eyed her as he paced around the bed that she lay upon.
"Tell me, little girl, what is your name?" surely she couldn't divulge such information! A thing named is a thing tamed, Mistress always said, "Nothing, I see…well you'll have to settle for 'little girl', then…by the burning in your eyes I'd say you hate it…so go on…what is your name?"
"S-Sigyn…I am Sigyn." His stare settled on her heavily making her squirm and almost-but only almost, turn her face away.
"Just Sigyn you say? What is your father's name, Sigyn?" He was making her dislike him, he truly was.
"I don't know. I was a foundling." Damn the man! Or person…or whatever he was,
"Well Sigyn, I am Loki. I am most enchanted to make your delightful acquaintance," He leaned down, kissed her hand, making her burn now more than ever.
"Just Loki you say," She tried to counter his previous words, "Who is your father?"
"I am Loki son of no one…my dear Lady Sigyn…I was…never found." With those final words, he left the room.
Hemidall was aware that he was no longer in Asgard, and also that the room he was in was cold.
Hemidall was also aware that his eyes were open, but still all he gazed upon was darkness.
Loki paced around in his enormous study. He was confounded-a sensation he cared little for. The broken casket lay strewn on his desk, a book depicting the casket itself and describing just what the casket was.
'The Casket of Ancient Winters,' it read, 'the ancient power of the ice-folk, the very essence of the ice, with the power of a thousand ages of winter, taken by the All-Father after terrible war, forsaking the giants to desolation…'
He saw the very artefact right in front of him, with his very eyes, it could be no other casket…yet it was broken, the terrible power that resided within it apparently gone, disappeared from being.
He needed more knowledge. He craved it like the greenery of Asgard craved the warmth of the sun.
He appeared out of the nothingness, and Sigyn was afraid once more. His gaze was still heavy, in fact heavier than before. He wondered why she had not yet made an attempt to escape before he noticed that there was still a deathly pallor to her face. It was like she was fighting to even remain awake.
"Lady Sigyn, forgive my intrusion-albeit this being my house." She was still without reaction, interpreting it as consent he continued, "Well…I must learn what business had you with the Casket of Ancient Winters?
"I know nothing." The weakness in her voice would have worried had he cared for her.
"Liar, tell me what you know about it-or back to the frozen tundra for you." He loomed over her, fully leaning against her, his hands grasping the headboard and his sharp nose touching hers while she gripped the silken green sheets in her hands.
It was frightening how his demeanour could change from charming to completely intimidating in such a small of an instant. Her stomach was upset, her vision blurring-she needed to breathe; she needed to be rid of the hollow aching cold that throbbed within her.
"I did not ask for your hospitality, Son of No one."
"You would have died without me." She countered his gaze defiantly-the heat of anger brimming behind her pale golden eyes.
"You should have left me."
"Tell me what you know. Tell me what you know about the casket." He was adamant, incredibly adamant-and the cold emanating from his blue skin only served to make the ache in her bones even hollower.
"I know nothing!" she let the words out with a wail. A long crack formed in the wall behind her, as if her voice had shattered the ice.
"Well…quite a find you are, Lady Sigyn." She hated him, she was certain.
"I will leave here, you know. Mistress will not lose me. She loves me like a daughter. She won't leave me.
"You tell yourself that, Lady Sigyn. Whatever permits you restful sleep, I say." His voice was like smooth silk, it caressed her ears and yet it made fanned the flames of her displeasure.
"She will come. I know she will."
"If she ever does," his voice was lower this time, smoother, and to Sigyn all the more poisonous, "she will come for the casket, not you. Thank you, Lady Sigyn. I have learned much from our conversation."
He finally leaned back and allowed her room to breathe, at least somewhat in the stifling cold.
"What could you possibly have learned? I have said nothing." She was indignant.
"Oh but my lady…you have said much…much indeed."
He disappeared back to his study.
He had learned much; most prevalent was the fact that Sigyn was not acting of her own accord…it was in her eyes. From what he saw he knew that she was not capable of…not capable of evil, and certainly not capable of the advanced magic that was woven into the cloak that he found her in-now draped across his chair.
The Lady Sigyn must have been working for someone, someone strong and vengeful, and someone capable of extraordinary magic and thus able to wield the power of the casket.
Mysteries rung in his head-who could this person be? Why employ the likes of Sigyn? Why the power of the frost giants? How had Sigyn gotten into Asgard in the first place? Who was Sigyn? Why did she seem like the answer to every one of his question?
There was only one thing to it. He would have to know her. He would have to gain her trust with whatever means necessary.
A loud clank of metal rung through the open door, he suddenly remembered Hemidall. How had the guardian end up in Joutunheim? It was perhaps time to pay him a visit.