Sitaan stood in the centre of his ruby palace and faced the outside, where the shadows were amassing and forming into single beings. Sign was tied down to the ruby throne and Morgana watched horrified from a mirror that stood on a tripod across from Sigyn.
Sitaan had trapped her in one of the mirrors-it was important that she not interfere with his plans. She was too attached to the little brown girl for her to allow everything to progress smoothly. Sitaan never understood attachment to fickle things like other beings, things that could so easily break and shatter your trust. Perhaps he had been so in times past, but he had decided, long ago, that never again would he trust. Not even own blood. He would not trust entirely, at the very lest.
The only one that he afforded any regard to was Morgana-she was…she was constant-but entirely not eternal. Yet she would be the one to govern beside him. Only the beautiful violet-eyed Morgana, as soon as he would be rid of the small creature that held Morgana…the creature that held Morgana's love.
He faced Sigyn now, "Little girl," he said, "This will not hurt enough to kill you."
"This will not hurt enough to kill you." He repeated that, and the first time he did she thought he was a liar-because it hurt, so much so that she really did think she would die. So much so that for a second in the midst of the agony that she felt right through to her bones, she had actually wanted to die.
But only for an instant, because I'm still here, I'm still alive.
She reasoned to herself that death simply could not hurt that much. Death was supposed to be peaceful.
The first time that he did whatever it was-with her still tied to the ruby throne, she screamed and screamed until her throat simply gave to the pressure, and her pain, she noted through the haze, made him smile in contorted, twisted pleasure.
I'll be damned if I give him that pleasure again.
So the second time he did it-tied her down on a stone slab, engraved with ancient writing, with the lights coming from above blaring in her eyes, and tore at her insides with whatever he was forcing outside of her body-she laid there, silent, unmoving and in complete and utter pain.
She noted with a small flame of satisfaction that this time his face was contorted not in pleasure but instead in irritation, if not rage. It did not occur to her that she should fear the change. She was too occupied trying to remember how to breathe and how in the past breathing did not actually hurt.
"Fighting, are we little girl?" he sneered the words. He was angry.
Little girl-I hate that name…
"Fighting will only make it worse-embrace the pain I give you. It will not kill you; it will only remind you that you are still alive."
She wanted, very badly to lash out at him, and she wished so very vehemently that Loki would just hurry up and save her, but only after he was done saving the Asgardians from Sitaan's shadows, of course.
But, until then she would just have to grit her teeth and take whatever blows he landed at her. She would just have to grit her teeth and simply tolerate whatever force he tore out of her skin.
"Are you really so frail? Tell me, Sigyn do you really break that easily? Are you really that weak, Sigyn? Is there really no fight in you?" she wanted, very badly to be able to simply end him, right there and then, because in her life, she had never hated anything or anyone more so than she hated him at that instant.
"Sigyn, my dear little girl...it is alright. Prove me wrong. We'll test your resistance, won't we, Sigyn? Show me how much of a warrior you really are and in time we will unlock all of your potential and you will make a magnificent weapon." It was only then that she began to actually realise that she was feeling fear, and that he realised and enjoyed the fact. "Just think, Sigyn how terrible and beautiful you will be. You'll be the bringer of death."
Thor and Loki were thrown out of the green flames and landed inside of a great hall, which ceiling and floors were obsidian black and which walls were covered in mirrors.
"What is this place?" Thor asked, dusting himself off and offering a hand to Loki, which Loki refused.
"This is the origin of the cloak's enchantment. I believe we are in Muspelheim."
Thor did a double take as soon as his eyes adjusted to the darkness around him-his eyes landed on Loki's now icy-blue face and blood-red eyes.
"What happened to you?" the words escaped Thor's mouth before he could control them-an action reminiscent of Sigyn.
"This is my actual appearance-something in the light of Asgardia impedes me from showing my true form whilst there. Forgive me," he spoke the last words dripping with a viper's venom-he could not help himself for Thor irritated him, "Forgive me if it displeases you."
"It does not matter to me your appearance," Thor puffed up sensing said venom, "all I care of is the safety of my people."
"Then we should take action Odinson" Loki marched along the length of the hall, noting that each mirror showed a different reflection.
"These are no mirrors!" he cried, "These are windows-gateways if you will." Thor stood in front of one in particular; it swirled with shadows and blackness.
"Perhaps this is the one we look for." Loki was next to Thor in an instant. Muttering a swift spell, he inserted a hand into the inky blackness of the mirror, feeling heat and cold at the same time.
"Although it does pain me immensely, I will have to ask you to take my hand once more."
In Asgardia, as soon as Volstagg and Fandral reached the Odin great golden hall, a great the ground shook and the sky darkened. Before any had a chance to speak, shadows attacked from the ground and a great gust of winter attacked from above.
The All-father's armies were not ready for battle.
So. Kudos to me for the early update? Yes? No? You know you wanna :-)