Sorrow didn't know what to think anymore. She hardly ever saw Loki, and he seemed to be avoiding her lately. She wasn't quite sure what that meant, especially since there were women chasing after the last available Prince of Asgard like dogs after meat.
She couldn't stop thinking about him. Not once since she had first met him had she been able to stop thinking about the God of Mischief. She realized that he had been her life for ten years now. They had kissed twice, but both had been during harsh circumstances. Once as a slave, once after she had come back to life after having bled to death.
Now, Loki had a good relationship with his family, some friends around the palace once more, and was gone for weeks at a time on hunting trips and peace negotiations. He talked to Thor and Sif regularly, the Goddess of War actually laughing at a few of his jests.
But when Sorrow even thought about approaching him, he would see her and leave the room. The last time she had talked to him had been a month ago. It was a short, choppy conversation that left the air feeling heavy and awkward. He had muttered something about needing to go somewhere and then quickly left.
Now, as she sat on the bed in a palace guest chamber, just minutes away from Loki's own chambers, she couldn't help but sigh. The skies outside were dark and angry, rain threatening to pour any moment, thunder growling at the lightning, wind whipping trees back and forth, driving away any and all warmth from the air. The clouds hid away the beauty of the sun, turning the world a bleak, sad grey. She felt as though she could relate to those sad clouds, being pushed where the wind wishes, pushed until they shed their fat tears.
There was a knock at her door.
She got up quickly, her heart skipping a beat, excitement in her chest as she thought how it might be Loki. But when she opened the door, she tried to banish the disappointment that wrenched at her stomach.
The serving maid told Sorrow the Queen had invited her to tea with Loki, Thor, and Jane, and that she needed to be ready within the hour. Sorrow accepted the invitation, her mind already filling with thoughts of Loki. He wouldn't be able to leave, not without his mother forcing him to sit through at least an hour of idle chat and more tea.
Sorrow called Janine, the maid bouncing excitedly on her heels as Sorrow told her about the invitation. Janine had become her best friend… well, next to Loki. But he wasn't talking to her. She had told Janine about her troubles with Loki months ago, the maid comforting her or distracting her to help ease her thoughts.
Janine helped fit Sorrow into a deep blue, silk dress that flowed over her body, complimenting her form. It was simple, with a silver band around her waist and silver slippers that matched. Janine did her hair up into a loose, stylish bun, and dusted her face with the tiniest bit of makeup. She looked nice enough to have tea with the Queen of Asgard and most of her family, but simple enough to not overdo it.
She wrung her hands in anticipation, not realizing how much she had missed Loki, missed his quick remarks and sharp sense of humor. She missed being able to talk with him, laugh with him, play chess, dance, stroll. Spend time with him.
The sickening thought that her slave years had been a lie shot through her head. She glanced, unsure, at Janine, not wanting to step into the Queen's chambers just yet. She felt lightheaded at the thought that Loki had merely used her to gain favor in the eyes of both his family and the people of Asgard, who were thrilled about her and Loki as she had a story of endurance and strength and courage. Things she really hated to hear, things she thought made her seem like a grand heroic woman, when she was just a nervous ex-slave who couldn't seem to talk to her "other half" any longer than a few awkward moments.
She finally entered the chambers, being greeted warmly by Frigga, Jane, and Thor. But Loki avoided her gaze, looking somewhat bored. There were two seats left, one by Loki and one at the head of the table. It was obvious she was supposed to sit by Loki, so she hesitantly did so. Loki's posture stiffened, as if in discomfort. Sorrow felt the lump in her throat at his cold greeting, a ridged hello, and then looking through her as if she was nothing more than a slat of wood. He began talking to Thor, and Sorrow talked to Jane.
Loki tried to focus on his conversation with Thor, but from the moment Sorrow walked in the room, he couldn't help but drink in her natural beauty. The way she shone with elegance, the light in her eyes that showed kindness and patience and trust.
And then, he remembered how pure, how amazing, she was. And how undeserving he was. She was… she was the most beautiful, kind-hearted, loving person he had known his entire life, save for Frigga. She deserved better than him, deserved a man noble and brave and equally loving as she. He could not bear to think of her in the arms of another man, but he couldn't let himself see her in his own.
He was the hurt on her face when he shunned her, walking by without even a glance, without even acknowledging her presence. It was so hard to do so, to keep his eyes cold, his spine ridged, his conversation lacking interest around her. Hard to stop the pounding of his heart whenever she neared him.
Her fragrance was warm and welcoming, her blue, blue eyes glittering like sapphires, like stars in the night sky. She was perfectly imperfect.
After the tea was gone, the conversation picked up. Sorrow smiled and laughed at Thor's loud stories of recent escapades into the Alfheim forests, and Loki tipping in to correct Thor's brash exaggerations.
"I took Jane to Alfheim just a month or so ago. Not even the elven women could compare to her beauty on the night of the departing feast." Thor smiled at Jane, putting his hand on her knee as she blushed, telling him that he was the most handsome man of all the elves.
Thor looked at Sorrow, then to Loki. "Why did you not bring the Lady Sorrow? I am certain she would have loved to see the beauty of Alfheim. In fact, I am most certain Alfheim would have loved to see the beauty of Sorrow!"
Loki pursed his lips. "It did not occur to me at the time… to bring a Lady with me."
Sorrow twisted her hands, rubbing her sweaty palms.
Thor laughed. "Brother, if there is anything I have learned growing up with you, is that everything occurs to you at all times. That is why you are the… how does that saying go, Jane? The one with the, uh, mind and muscles?"
Jane rolled her eyes. "Loki is the brains, Thor is the brawns."
Thor's eyes lit up as if he had just unlocked the answer to the universe. "That is the one!"
Loki sighed, clicking his tongue. "Perhaps the Lady Sorrow has not been on my mind. Did you think that maybe I would not want to bring her? I do not need an arm trophy."
Sorrow felt as if she had been slapped thrice over, her cheeks turning the lightest tint of a rose. The air was thick for a moment, quiet at the moment those words left Loki's mouth. Sorrow felt that same dull ache as those lonely months after Brandt. She kept her expression the same as before, not willing to let others see her pain, locking her emotions up, all but what she needed at the moment. Happiness, indifference, humor.
She felt eyes shifting from Loki to her, Frigga scowling at Loki in the corner of Sorrow's eye. Thor began a different conversation, telling a story of how he slayed a hundred monsters in battle. Sorrow tuned out the Thunderer's voice after the first minute, the need to cry building. But she had mastered the art of locking herself up. So she waited until Thor and Jane excused themselves.
Sorrow stood before Loki himself could leave, the Queen embracing her warmly, telling her how regal she looked, before asking if they could have tea tomorrow. Sorrow cleared the lump in her throat. "I apologize, but I must decline the invitation. I am feeling ill suddenly… I would not want to get you sick."
Frigga's brows drew together. "Do you need to see the healers?"
Sorrow shook her head slightly. "No… I merely feel a little warm."
Frigga nodded. "I understand. Get some rest. But if it gets worse, call for me."
Sorrow smiled, somewhat bitterly, before she walked out of the room, Loki's eyes on the back of her head. She walked so fast she was nearly running, holding back the tears that were already filling her eyes. Her heart wrenched painfully as she realized the rumors had been true, that Loki had only used her to gain favor in the eyes of Asgard.
The hallway was dark, a torch lit every so often. The tears in her eyes finally started to fall as she realized she was alone. She stopped walking so fast, walking slow enough to think.
"Sorrow."
Sorrow whipped around at the sound of Loki's voice, her heart racing, hope building in her thoughts. "Loki."
Loki frowned in the torchlight, shaking his head. "You need to stop, Sorrow."
Sorrow's blood rushed to her head. "What do you mean by that?" She almost whispered.
"Stop coming back to the palace. Leave within the week. You have no need to be here, and your presence annoys me."
Sorrow choked on the air in her lungs. "W-what?" She sputtered, her eyes wide like a dumbfounded child.
Loki glared hard at her. "You do not belong here. Go back home. You are not a slave, and you hold no political standing. You have no business here."
Sorrow blinked rapidly, feeling a massive headache start to creep into her mind. She met his cold, indifferent gaze, the crushing feeling of two hands wrenching her heart apart. She felt that hollow place in her mind, wanting to retreat into it, where she could feel no pain. "Loki… what happened to… you and I?"
Loki chuckled softly, Sorrow flinching at the mockery. "Do not be naïve. That was one thing I took you for, but I can stand it no more, for it no longer amuses me. There never was a 'you and I'. There was only I. Please, refrain from fooling yourself any longer. I do not love you. Go find someone who will."
And in that moment, Sorrow's gaze became that of broken glass. The feeling of her heart being torn in two was so intense that she suddenly went numb. And without another word, she turned and left, not bothering to see the pained look on Loki's face, his façade falling.
She hadn't been lying to the Queen. She was sweating, panting by the time she got back to her chambers. Her cheeks were flushed, her head pounding with a searing headache that seemed to rock her skull back and forth until she felt it would crack open. Her hands shook, and she felt so tired. She knew she was making herself sick, but what was the point? It seemed Loki had burnt her after all. And she was more than willing to let it consume her.
Her thoughts were a bit sluggish, and she could only think of Loki. Loki as she dressed. Loki as she washed the makeup from her face. Loki as she undid her hair, one pin at a time. Loki as she scrawled a tiny note to Loki, leaving it on her dresser. Loki as she slid under her covers, feeling freezing by the time she reached the bed. Loki as she sank into the sheets, willing them to warm her.
Loki as she fell asleep.
Janine had found Sorrow, almost dead under her covers. She had been running a fever of 109, she was sure. Janine had alerted the Healers immediately, but they couldn't find out what had caused the sickness. Not natural, not poison, not allergies. Nothing. But Sorrow was sick. Very sick. She laid there limp on the bed, a cold rag on her forehead, dead to the world.
Janine had seen Sorrow like this before. And it was always because of the Prince. The Prince would shatter Sorrow's heart, time and time again, and Sorrow would blame herself, eventually hitting rock bottom and collapsing, her heart broken into a million glass pieces. Janine hated the youngest Prince sometimes, seeing what he did to Sorrow.
Janine took the now warm rag off of Sorrow's forehead, the Healers having instructed her to keep the rag cold, try and break the fever. But Sorrow was too hot, the rag warming within seconds of being put on her forehead.
Janine brushed the sweaty strands of hair out of Sorrow's face, tears falling down her cheeks as she thought about how sick Sorrow made herself. And that's how Janine knew that Sorrow truly did love Prince Loki. So when Janine found the note Sorrow had written for the Prince, she fought the urge to pry, and walked to the Prince's chambers, knocking on the door.
The Prince opened it a minute later. Janine averted her eyes as was respectful, holding out the note. The Prince eyed it nonchalantly before asking who it was from.
"The Lady Sorrow, my Lord." Janine said.
Loki rolled his eyes, making Janine shiver in anger. "I do not want it. Take it back to her. Tell her that whatever she has written she can tell a scribe later."
Janine felt like shoving the note down the Prince's throat. "I am afraid, my Lord, that I will not be able to do that."
"And why not, maid?" Loki snapped.
Janine dared to meet his gaze. "Because my Lady Sorrow is on her death bed and will not be able to tell a scribe later."
Loki's eyes widened, his breath freezing. "What?" He breathed.
Janine glared at him. "I must tend to the Lady Sorrow. Good evening, my Lord." Janine dropped the letter at the Prince's feet, curtsied, and left, not giving the prince a chance to blink before she was gone.
Loki snatched the envelope off the ground as soon as the maid was out of sight. He scrambled to open it, finding it was just a small piece of paper folded in half. His hands were shaking, hoping this wasn't some sort of sick form of revenge Sorrow was playing.
He knew he had hurt her. He had done so on purpose. She deserved a far better man than he. He forgot how much he could hurt those closest to him, as his strongest weapon was words. He remembered seeing her tear stained eyes in the torch light, those beautiful blue eyes. The broken look on her face, the numbness that overtook her.
The handwriting was small and neat, a mix between cursive and print. But there were smeared words. Words that had been smeared with tears.
Loki,
I believe this is my final farewell. As you wish, I shall leave. You will never see me again as I know you find my sight unbearable. But because I am to never see you again… (The words were too smeared to read) Why? Was this truly all a game? I know you would scoff at this, but you will always be my dearest friend. Whether it was fake or not, you are the kindest, most loving man I could ever know.
Now, burn this letter. Rip it up, throw it out, perhaps you may even leave it unopened. To you, I may be but a slave, an illegitimate daughter with disgraceful blood that runs through her, an outcast of society with no purpose. But to me, you will always be my…
Sorrow
Loki panicked. What had he done?
He threw the envelope back into his chambers before dashing out the door, to Sorrow's chambers.
Frigga hurried to the room as quickly as she could, hearing of Sorrow's illness. She had not thought the woman so sick. She had been almost perfectly healthy the previous night, and now she was burning, dying.
She rushed into the room, seeing a maid weeping over Sorrow's body. Frigga pushed past the maid, checking her forehead, eyes widening at how hot she was. Frigga glanced at the maid, who was staring at the Queen with astonished eyes.
"We must take off her dress. She is much too hot."
The maid nodded, peeling back the covers and trying to gently turn the small woman onto her stomach. Frigga helped hold Sorrow to the side as Janine undid the laces to Sorrow's dress. Frigga set Sorrow on her back, the ex-slave not even responding in the slightest. Janine stripped off Sorrow's dress, Frigga's breath catching at the scars that littered her body.
Frigga settled the covers on Sorrow's chest, the woman not completely naked as she was still wearing undergarments, but was starting to shiver hard. Frigga placed a hand on Sorrow's forehead again, roughly aware of someone entering the room, panting from running hard.
Frigga muttered a spell for fevers, nothing. A spell for sickness, nothing. A spell which soothed the mind, nothing. A spell that drove away sickness, nothing.
Nothing worked.
In all the millennia Frigga had lived, she had mastered every healing art there was in all the nine realms. Yet she had also mastered those of death as well. Sorrow's life seemed to be fading, as though she was returning to Helheim, her soul slowly, reluctantly making the journey back to that dark abyss. Frigga remembered the deal Sorrow had made with Death, the deal to bring Death life.
Frigga's eyes snapped to the person who had entered the room. Loki. Her youngest son. Master of deception and trickery, weaver of lies. "What did you tell her?"
Loki glanced at the maid, who folded her arms, refusing to leave. He sighed. "I told her to leave… that she had no purpose here."
Frigga raised a defined eyebrow. "And?"
A shadow fell over Loki's face. "That I did not love her, to go find some else who would."
Frigga could feel the anger radiating from the maid. Frigga stood walked over to Loki, seeing the pain in his eyes. "You forget that I know you, my son. I had anticipated something like this. But you cannot punish her with your insecurities."
Shame fell on Loki's face.
"I am not for certain what is wrong with her, but I do have a suspicion it might have something to do with her deal with the Goddess Hel. I will talk to the Dark Queen, but you must stay by her side. I will return within a day's time." Frigga's dress swirled after her as she left the room, the door closing quickly.
Loki glanced at Janine, seeing the pure rage in her green eyes. She motioned at Sorrow, inviting him to stay by her side.
Loki sat by Sorrow, Janine sitting on the other side. The warm glow of a candle lit the room, but besides that, it was dark. The wavering light illuminated Sorrow's face just enough for him to see her long lashes, her flushed cheeks, her red lips, her soft brown hair.
It was silent for a long time, Loki gazing at her form, wishing he could take those words from her mind. He felt Janine's fiery gaze on him. The silence was shattered when she finally spoke.
"I've never seen her this sick before. I mean, she made herself pretty sick the last time you broke her heart, but she was still able to walk and talk and eat, even though she rarely did so."
Loki's icy eyes settled on the maid.
"For a few months after she was first brought home, I could barely get her to eat bread."
Loki realized her had never seen Sorrow's bare shoulders. He tried to think about only her shoulders, but Janine's voice pierced his mind like a sword.
"She forgives you as you hurt her, you know…"
"Believe me, I know." Loki snapped. "I have known her for far longer than you have, mind you."
Janine stood up. "I need to go get her some more cold water." And then, she stormed out of the room, sweeping the water bucket into her arms as she went.
It was just Loki and Sorrow. Loki groaned, shaking his head, pressing his palms into his forehead. "What have I done?" Loki whispered.
He buried his face in bed, smelling Sorrow's sweet fragrance. He took a deep breath, the scent soothing his confused mind. He stayed like that for a moment before sitting back up, looking at her. He remembered her beautiful laugh, her vibrant blue eyes, her sweet spirit. He leaned over and kissed her shoulder, the taste of her skin divine. He pressed his forehead to her shoulder, whispering her name over and over again, wishing she would respond.
Frigga was surprised, as she was just halfway to the Bifrost when the Goddess Hel herself appeared, not in her true form, but that of her Aesir form. "You need not travel all the way to my realm, Frigga Fjörgynsdóttir."
Frigga sighed heavily. "What has happened to Sorrow?"
"Sorrow Tarbensdottir?"
Frigga frowned. "Sorrow has no surname, no real father."
Hel chuckled. "Ah, but Tarben has been in my kingdom for nearly twenty years, Queen of Asgard. I know all."
"Then tell me what has become of Sorrow Tarbensdottir."
Hel sighed. "It's not that I don't like the ex-slave… but now that Loki Laufeyson has broken his ties with her, their future has been severed. I am reclaiming her soul."
Frigga's hands balled into fists. "You know as well as I that those were just words."
"Not to Sorrow. Her heart was broken, her will to live no longer remaining. Do not worry, Queen Frigga. I will send her to Valhalla."
Frigga shook her head. "If you take her soul, you will be breaking your half of the bargain. She is more than willing to be with my son."
Hel smirked. "You truly are the Trickster's mother. Always finding ways around." Hel folded her arms. "Fine then. If I release her soul, there must be a True Love's kiss. For True Love conquers all, even death. Then, I will consider our terms even once more."
Frigga felt relief flood her heart, but the Dark Queen was gone before she could thank her. Frigga hurried back to the palace, navigating the dark corridors by heart, entering Sorrow's chambers. Loki was at Sorrow's side, the maid gone. Frigga told Loki of what the Dark Queen had said.
Loki pinched the bridge of his nose. "True Love is shared between two. I am certain she loves me no longer after what I have said."
Frigga glared softly at Loki. "You have created this mess, and you shall fix it. And she could never stop loving you. I see the way your auras glow around each other. Anyone can see it. Your love is true, as is hers. Prove that you love her." Frigga left the room, locking the door behind her.
Loki stood, pacing at the foot of Sorrow's bed, watching as the pallor of her face returned to normal, how she stopped shivering. Now, it was as if she were simply sleeping. Loki couldn't help but remember the Midgardian tale of the Sleeping Beauty, who could only be woken by True Love's kiss. Except that princess hadn't had her heart shattered by her prince. And she was only a princess. Sorrow was a Queen.
Loki slowly approached the bed, thinking of how intimate a situation this might have been if Sorrow was awake. With a single candle, the room was dark, warm. Sorrow's beauty was accentuated, her lips red as the rose, her hair soft brown, her neck and bare shoulder perfectly smooth in the candlelight. Loki leaned over her, his heart thundering in his chest. He had only kissed her twice before, neither of them so… intense.
True Love. As he leaned over her, his fingers cradling her chin, he thought of how much he loved her. And then, he found he didn't have to think. His entire being was entwined with hers, their hearts beating as one, his whole soul yearning to be with her. She was valiant, divine of nature, worthy, intelligent, her heart good and pure, virtuous, beautiful. Loki brushed his lips against hers, whispering her name, before he fully pressed his lips into her lips, kissing her, feeling her soft lips against his.
Sorrow felt her mind clear, the weights of heartache dropping off her chest one brick at a time. She felt energy run through her body, numb no longer. And then, she felt something soft on her lips, something warm. She slowly opened her eyes, seeing the face of someone she knew, someone she had wanted to forget about.
Loki.
She couldn't keep the light gasp from escaping her, Loki breaking away, brushing her hair behind her ear. Her mind froze, thinking of the last time she had seen Loki, how he had glared at her, told her to leave and never return, that all had been a lie, that she was a fool.
Sorrow blinked, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, falling down her face as she looked away, too ashamed to meet his gaze.
"I am sorry." Loki whispered.
Sorrow winced at his voice, yet it wasn't harsh or mocking. She looked back up at him. His eyes were earnest, sincere. He said it again, taking her hand, kissing it. Sorrow swallowed hard.
"I meant not a word of what I said, nor of what I did, shutting you out. I hurt you on purpose, for I thought you too good for the likes of me. I thought you deserved better, deserved a man who is loving and honorable without question, a man who is kind to you and treats you like the Queen that you are…"
Sorrow pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "I could never love another man, Loki." She whispered.
Loki's eyes fell away, ashamed. "I hurt you. I nearly killed you."
Sorrow felt more hot tears run down her face before she pushed herself up slightly, touching the side of his face. He leaned into the touch. "Stop that talk. I'll hear no more of it… I did it to myself." Sorrow said softly, her voice wavering.
The corner of Loki's mouth raised just a little. "I was worried your maid would gut me. Janine, is it?"
Sorrow laughed lightly. "Yes. Janine can be a bit… hot tempered. But she's one of my few true friends." There was a silence, and Sorrow noticed Loki's face redden a little bit, he glanced away, clearing his throat. Sorrow's brows drew together. "What?"
Loki cleared his throat, smiling at her, he said, "You are lacking a dress, love."
Sorrow blushed, finally noticing that Loki's hands were on her bare back, that the blanket was the only thing keeping him from seeing her in her undergarments. She let her arms slip from Loki's neck, though she noticed he was reluctant to let go of her. Sorrow gave him a sharp look and he chuckled, his hands sliding off her back, tracing her scars as they went. Sorrow shivered, her back tingling at the feeling of his fingers tracing her scars, his skin on hers, a feeling so sharp it sent tears to her eyes and a spike through her mind, causing her to flinch, her cheeks burning.
Loki stood quickly. "That was disrespectful of me. Forgive me."
"No… it actually felt… good." Sorrow's cheeks were tinted pink as she grabbed her robe from the side of the bed, holding the blanket to her chest. Loki turned away quickly as Sorrow slipped it on. He paced, hearing the rustle of fabric.
"Alright…" Loki said slowly, fighting the urge to catch a glimpse of her, shocked at his own lust.
Sorrow finished putting on her robe and she grabbed her hairbrush. "You can turn around now."
Loki turned around more quickly than Sorrow thought natural for him. His eyes met hers and he suddenly didn't know what to do. Sorrow motioned for him to sit next to her, patting the bed. Loki walked over to her, sitting down as Sorrow began brushing her hair, working the small tangles out. Loki couldn't help it. He put his hand over hers, Sorrow looking at him in question as he took the brush from her hands. He ran the brush through her hair, Sorrow getting what he was doing and turning away so that he could brush her hair better. Soon, they were both sitting cross-legged on the bed, Loki running the brush gently through her soft brown hair. He loved the feel of her hair, the way it had a slight shine to it, the smell of pomegranate and warm vanilla.
Neither of them spoke in the dimly lit room. Sorrow began to relax completely, her eyes closing as she felt Loki's skilled hands run the brush gently through her hair, becoming used to his touch