Son of No One VIII
Hemidall was gone from his room and nowhere to be found. Loki felt a sickening jolt in his gut when he saw, through the green flames just where the guardian had gone.
Asgard...Hemidall had gone back to Asgard.
The sickly feeling increased as he observed through the green flames. He dimmed the flames-suddenly, irrationally fearful that Hemidall might see him; even though he was certain that the ice fortress was completely untraceable and shrouded.
He had to act...but for now all he had were theories and ideas.
He took food and wine from the cellar underneath the kitchen table and went to Sigyn.
Sigyn had been locked inside her room for the past three days. It was only on the dawn of the fourth day that Loki had presented himself with food...and this time not just fruit, but much to Sigyn's inward delight also some dried meat, bread and rich, fragrant wine.
"I thought you might be hungry. You have not made a peep in days."
"You locked me in here." She spat the words accusingly...very unlike her usual quiet self. Loki thought that perhaps it might be the hunger...until he looked at her better. In the darkness of the room, illuminated by the one candle he had left there. Her skin was deathly pale...her eyes sunken...her face gaunt.
"Are you well? Are you feeling ill?" she cackled and her whole body shook with tremor. She lifted her body from the bed and limped towards him-the green shirt that she had taken from him days before hanging around her loosely and haggardly. She looked like a wraith.
"Save me your false concern, son of no one! What have you really come here for?" she curled her lip-she snarled like a rabid beast. He was forced to step back and place the tray of food on the nearby desk. She attacked it immediately, wolfing it all down without pausing to breathe.
"Sigyn...Sigyn stop...it will make you ill." He was afraid now...a genuine tremor of fear made its way down his spine. He seized her hands, "Sigyn!"
She struck him, after he recovered from the surprise, he struck her back-she screamed and shrieked and writhed in his grasp, "Let me go! Let me go!"
He struck her again before pushing her to the edge of the bed and pinning her down with his knees. She kept on struggling-scratching and biting and kicking.
Suddenly...Sigyn ceased and fell limp against him. He released her when he was sure she would not fight...and Sigyn shook against his chest.
Loki realised that she shook with laughter.
"I know why you're here," she wheezed wiping the blood that trickled down her lip from one of his strikes, "I know why you're here...son of no one..." she pounced-her lips clamping onto his, her hot mouth taking him completely by surprise-she pulled him on top of her, tearing at his shirt and biting and sucking.
He kissed back-pulling and tugging at her rich brown hair-his hands travelled the whole length of her body kneading and feeling...one hand explored underneath his shirt that she wore exposing one leg and roughly slinging it across his waist.
It was only when her hands fought his belt buckle that he froze and tore himself from her, flinging himself against the door and fled the room, leaving her empty and aching.
He stormed into his study-livid at himself and at the damned little girl. He had to do something. He had to move, act and get rid of her. He could only muster up one solution-he had to take her to Arnlaug. That was the only viable solution-and yet he could not. What if Arnlaug turned them away? Sigyn would not survive being strewn across dimensions-Sigyn might not even survive the three day journey across the ice-planes given her condition. Something was wrong.
It must be the power of the casket. It must be harming her because Sigyn was not a frost giant... she was not adequate to house a frost giant's power…but perhaps there would be a way…a way to transfer the power of the casket out of Sigyn and into another willing, more adequate host. He needed to go to Arnlaug. If she chased them away, then he'd persuade her into an allegiance…
He went back to Sigyn's room-cautiously pushing the door open and maintaining himself at a distance of more than arm's length from her.
"Back for more, are we?" she was right where he had left her-laid across the bed with her clothing dishevelled…her legs partly opened…
"Dress yourself. We are to travel back to the caves." He stood rigidly against the door, watching her slink up from the bed. He tensed as she approached him-hands on his almost exposed chest.
"I am ill Loki, am I? And Mistress…Mistress will not come for me…" her eyes-having been focused before were now glazed over and bright. She was confused-the power was taking away her sanity faster than he had assumed it would, such great power in such a feeble little host. Sweet misguided Sigyn-always at the mercy of something greater than herself.
"Yes, you are ill and no...Mistress will not come...but I am your new Master now."
"My new Master?" she asked, her voice weak and trembling and her eyes brimming with tears.
"Yes Sigyn...let me take care of you." He had to help her dress-in his clothing...he was not accustomed to female guests in his house. He was not accustomed to guests in general.
He wrapped her in the tickest fur he could find in-he did not know what she needed after all...after all he was made out of ice. He had no concept of warmth and heat. Loki led her by the hand to the ice-fortress' exit.
"Whatever you do, Lady Sigyn, you must not deviate from me. You must never let go of my hand, am I understood?"
"Yes Master."
Sigyn will eventually prove herself. Just not yet :-)