A/N: The hunting expedition doesn't go quite as planned.
Warning: Lots of blood and gore in this chapter, including the slaughtering of bilgesnipe and trolls by the dozens. It ain't pretty.
Ollerus was up with the sun, packing his quiver with only the sharpest and sturdiest of arrows. Today he was going to kill his first bilgesnipe, possibly two if his mother and father permitted it. His heart pounded with excitement as he strapped his supplies to the back of Glimmer—the young Pegasus the Valkyries allowed him to ride on special occasions—and collected the bags of feed and water bladders from the stables. Sif had said it was okay to pack some extra weight on the steeds since they wouldn't be flying. Apparently none of the Pegasi would allow Loki on their backs—something about a spell and a butterfly—and they had to get Heimdall to beam over a regular horse for him. Ollerus shrugged it off. Sure it would slow their travel time but at least they were all still going. He wasn't about to complain, not when this long-anticipated hunting expedition just happened to occur at a time when his father could come along. It was going to be a great day and he wouldn't let some stupid picky Pegasi spoil his mood.
"Ollieeee," Sif called out as he walked the steeds up from the stables. She was fully armored and holding his most heavy duty set of leather gear. "You need to wear more than just that vest for protection. Bilgesnipe's antlers have been known to pierce even metal chest plates."
Ollerus groaned as she handed him the gear. "But I get too warm in those. And I can't move my arms as freely."
Sif only raised her eyebrow, in that argue-with-me-and-I'll-toss-you-in-the-Valkyrie's-practice-pit look.
"Fine," he sighed. Sif smiled and tousled his hair, planting a kiss on his cheek. She was in an obnoxiously good mood, rising earlier than Ollerus as usual and actually managing to get Loki up then too, which was odd since Ollerus knew they both went to sleep really late. He learned quickly that his father was not a morning person and preferred to sleep in, so the fact that Loki was up with Sif and he was laughing at her dorky jokes while they fed each other breakfast berries—wait a minute. Reality just dawned on the boy. Ew. He wished it hadn't.
He was glad that they were making each other happy though. They both deserved to be happy and Ollerus had always heard that was most important part of love, even if it did make people act like blubbering drunks.
The ride out of Glasir and into the lower wilds was slow on the ground but nice all the same. Ollerus didn't get to leave Glasir territory very often so the less familiar territory was fascinating and distracted from their wingless pace. Every now and then they would come upon a clearing that offered a distant view of Asgard's city district, shimmering, alien, and, as always, inviting.
"Won't be long now, right Mother?" Ollerus looked back over his shoulder. Sif was riding directly behind him while Loki had assumed the lead, claiming he knew some shortcuts. "I'll finally get to see the city up close. Walk through the streets, ride a skiff through the canals, stand at the feet of those giant statues."
Sif was about to respond but Loki spoke first. "Trust me, you'll quickly bore of the gaudy structures, especially the statues which are in desperate need of repair thanks to your uncle's poor piloting skills."
"Don't start," Sif warned Loki, trotting up to ride alongside Ollerus. "Once your father returns to Gladsheim and straightens out a few matters with the King will you be able to visit."
"Oh really," Loki stated without looking back. "And what sort of matters are so pressing to keep my son, a rightful Prince of Asgard, from entering his own city?"
Ollerus straightened his posture and shot Sif a proud smile, raising a single brow. "Yes Mother, do explain why royalty is being denied what it desires."
Sif rolled her eyes. "You're both insufferable." She then caught up to Loki's horse, as close as Fylla would allow her to get. "You know damned well which matters I speak of."
Ollerus sighed. "If you two aren't acting dopey around each other then you're fighting. Can't you just act normal?"
"My son," Loki began, slowing his pace until he rode at the boy's side. "You have much to learn about adult behavior."
"Much I don't want to learn," Ollerus remarked. "What matters are Mother talking about that keep me from visiting Asgard? I thought my blue skin wasn't an issue anymore now that the people know you're a frost giant."
"There will still be some intolerant nobles put off by your appearance," Loki paused, deliberating, "but they are not the issue at hand." Sif fell back to ride on the other side of Ollerus, giving Loki an encouraging nod. He continued. "Ollerus I...have many confessions I need to make to both you and the people of Asgard before I can bring you there. There are truths you must hear first hand that haven't been tainted by rumors and speculation, the first of which involve my crimes that are not yet documented in your history books."
"You committed more crimes, even after what you did to Jotunheim?" Ollerus asked.
"I did," Loki confirmed. "Upon Midgard. Plots that its people label Acts of Terrorism, genocide, and warmongering. It's nothing they haven't been guilty of themselves since the birth of their kind, but they like to paint me up as an even bigger threat than any of their own because I am technically an alien. And I also unleashed an alien army onto one of their most beloved cities."
"You say that as merely an afterthought," Sif said with a sadness in her voice. "It's as if you harbor no guilt."
"What's done is done, Sif," Loki said, looking straight ahead. "The lives lost to my actions would be much greater if the Chitauri invaded without my intervention. They might have just won."
"So," Ollerus said, trying to piece it all together. "You pretended to be a bad guy so the good guys would win?"
"Well, yes," Loki replied lightly.
"I'm afraid it's not that simple, Ollie," said Sif.
"It can be that simple," Loki argued. "I see no point in complicating the matter, not when the truth is so evident."
"What truth?" Ollerus asked.
"That my alleged offenses against Jotunheim, against Midgard, and against my brother, have only contributed to the betterment of those I have offended."
The boy turned to Sif, confused. "Is this true, Mother?"
Sif sighed in exasperation. "In a very convoluted way, there...might be some truth to that." She didn't seem totally convinced.
"That is not how Odin or Thor see it, of course," Loki added. "They will tell you I'd gone insane, allowed myself to be controlled by our common enemy, driven by a desperation for power. But they do not see the bigger picture. Too bound by simple laws and antiquated prophecies."
"Without simple laws in place," Sif stated, "the realms would be lost to chaos."
Loki smiled. "You say that as though it is a bad thing."
"It is."
"I disagree, my darling."
Ollerus was about to get whiplash from their argument.
"Without chaos," Loki explained, "our worlds will fall into a weakened complacency, growing stale and unchallenged, stunted in their evolution. Without chaos, we will not survive."
Ollerus nodded, attempting to grasp his father's...philosophy. He remembered reading something similar in a book about controversial theories. It was a topic very ripe for debate but certainly full of solid arguments, ones he hoped Loki would eventually elaborate on.
Sif, on the other hand, did not appear as open-minded. She beheld Loki with a pitying expression, shaking her head. "You truly see no wrong in your actions."
"No." Loki met her gaze confidently. "I know what I did was wrong, by all measures of the law. I just don't burden myself with guilt over it."
"Is there no wrongful action you will take responsibility for, if only for the sake of our son?"
"Um, Mother?" Ollerus spoke up. "I'm right here you know." He hated when she talked about him like he wasn't there.
"There is one," Loki said, his resolve starting to crack. "And when the time comes that I must take responsibility for it then I will. But until that time, I will deal with the matters at hand, such as Thor's insistence that I come clean to the people about my staged resurrection."
Ollerus blinked. Loki's last two words just painted the most amazing visuals in his head. He didn't even need to ask for an explanation before his father started telling the story, obviously spotting the intrigue on his face. Sif attempted to argue, pinching the bridge of her nose, saying that the whole scenario wasn't nearly as admirable as Loki was describing, but Ollerus preferred Loki's version of the story, which was full of magic, gore and gruesome creatures. He apparently put on quite the elaborate show to keep himself out if the dungeon, and to restore his reputation with Asgard.
Ollerus could understand the logic of resorting to deception in this case. Loki's list of sins were too great for anything but martyrdom to wash away, and had he done everything according to the rules, he would still be in the dungeon, which meant he wouldn't be here on this hunting expedition. Ollerus knew that his father's crimes were wrong, even if he didn't feel guilty about them, and he hoped to the Eternal that Loki wouldn't ever repeat such atrocities, but he also believed in second chances and letting criminals learn from their mistakes. Thor was guilty of war crimes against Jotunheim, and he was now the King. Why couldn't Loki be given the same treatment, especially if he intended to tell the people of Asgard the truth at this big banquet he kept hearing about that he wouldn't be allowed to go to. At no point since Loki had arrived in Glasir has he given Ollerus the impression that he wasn't deserving of a second chance. Sure he had his dark and weird moments, and yes, the Pegasi are scared crapless of him, but these are hardly reasons to ignore the good that Ollerus has plainly seen.
Everything Ollerus has read about Asgardian fathers and sons is how the fathers always want their sons to follow in their footsteps and do the things they do, and not because the fathers wanted their sons to be happy but because they want their attributes passed down to future generations, and that is what will make the fathers proud of their sons. That always sounded good on paper but it couldn't be farther from the truth in the case of Ollerus and his father. By those rules, Loki should be angry and disappointed that Ollerus couldn't learn magic, or that he preferred skiing and hunting over meditating and making rocks levitate. He wasn't. Loki was encouraging, even through all the cynical remarks about the barbarism of hunting and mindlessness of physical feats, Ollerus had seen the pride glisten in his father's eyes when he flawlessly landed a jump or when he nailed a bullseye. He felt loved for being exactly who he was, not for some preconceived standard of who he should be.
Loki was even the one to first point out the herd of bilgesnipe traversing the valley beneath them, setting aside his personal biases against the sport they were about to engage in in order to help make this an unforgettable day for his son. Ollerus felt like the luckiest son in all the nine realms.
"Oh wow, look at them all," Ollerus marveled at the sight, squinting to make out details through the herd's kicked up dust. "They appear to be stampeding. Could something have frightened them?"
Sif wasn't as infatuated with the sight and spoke with an unease. "They are the most frightful creatures in these plains. What would possibly have scared them?"
"Size and ferocity do not make up for wits," Loki said, gazing across the valley. "A scurrying rodent could send these beasts into a frenzy."
Ollerus pulled an arrow from his quiver and readied it in his bow, practicing his aim. The creatures were still too far away but they wouldn't be after long. They were running really fast.
"There's something odd about this," Loki noted, straining to see more details of the herd. "They are traveling in a very unnatural formation, almost as if—"
"Trolls," Sif blurted, instinctively inching closer to Ollerus. "They are being ridden by trolls. We need to back up slowly and quietly so as not to be detected."
"Um," Ollerus said, his heart suddenly pounding, "I think it's too late for that."
The herd had shifted its trajectory and was now heading straight for the bluff they were on. Each bilgesnipe had a troll rider and there were a dozen or more of them, equipping various weapons and kicking their beasts to go faster.
"Ollerus," Sif ordered, pulling her glaive from her back, "you fly up as high as Glimmer will let you and you stay there until I come for you. Do not, for any reason, come back down."
"Are you intending to fight them?" Loki asked, worry flashing across his face.
"You have a better plan?" She slid down off of Fylla.
"We could retreat," Loki suggested, turning his horse back toward the forest.
Sif slapped Glimmer on the rump and signaled her to fly upward, not even waiting for Ollerus's pitch of why he would be useful in this battle. The last thing he heard as his stomach dropped and the ground grew distant was Sif, assuming her battle stance and stating that she does not retreat. Loki then dismounted his horse, sent it running into the forest and assumed his battle stance next to Sif.
Glimmer continued to rocket upward and Ollerus growled in frustration. How dare his mother treat him like some helpless child, in front Loki no less. He could take on those stupid trolls. He could easily snipe them from above, so long as Glimmer didn't get spooked and jerk around too much. He tried to steer the beast off of its strictly vertical path but it was no use. Sif had given her an order and she was bound to follow it. Useless animal.
Fortunately, Fylla was a short distance behind him, no doubt also sent away by Sif to avoid getting hurt. Fylla was no stranger to battle though. She was a seasoned war Pegasus and from the stories Ollerus heard about her, she would be the perfect vehicle to snipe from. She just needed to get a little closer...a little closer, and now! Ollerus leapt from Glimmer's back, falling in the general direction of Fylla who he knew would catch him. Both steeds cried in disapproval at his stunt but Fylla did not fail him and he clung to her neck once their bodies connected. He righted himself upon her back and wasted no time in steering her back toward the ground.
As they approached the battle came into view, and it was spectacular! Ollerus never doubted his mother's prowess as a warrior and he had watched her countless times battle the Valkyries in the practice pit, but never had he seen her take on real enemies. She was a beast. Each swing, twirl and jab of her glaive, each block from her shield were masterful, as if she choreographed it ahead of time. For every troll she sliced, stabbed, maimed and flung off of their mount, there was a bilgesnipe she had to deal with too, and she did so effortlessly. Bilgesnipe weren't like horses that would run off in fear once stripped of their rider. They were out for blood and they didn't even care whose. Ollerus saw one attack a troll that Loki's ice blast had knocked off his mount, but that was only one. Sif still had plenty to contend with and she made it look so easy, a simple duck, roll and upward stab into the belly, the one spot where they lacked scaly armor.
Ollerus momentarily forgot about his sniping intentions because of the sheer awesomeness he was beholding below. Loki was a one man army, literally, what with his cloning spell, and every attack he did something different. First it was a sheet of blockading ice that a bilgesnipe slammed into, breaking its neck. Next he dismounted two trolls with two knives, thrown at the same time, then he proceeded to freeze their bilgesnipe in place with a dual ice blast. One of those trolls got up quickly though, hardly slowed by his wound and taking advantage of Loki's distraction. He yanked the knife from his hairy belly and made to attack Sif with it, who was too busy with her own set of trolls to see him coming. Ollerus gasped and readied his arrow, trying to line up his shot and command Fylla to hover at the same time. He was failing miserably. He needed to get closer but by then it would be too late. He was about shout out a warning when a large spear of ice pierced the back of the troll's head and came out of his face.
The monster fell to the ground, practically at Sif's feet. She didn't even notice how Loki just saved her but she did notice how Loki was being quickly overtaken by too many foes. She promptly mounted the riderless bilgesnipe which she was about to gut, and plowed it into the trolls bearing down on Loki, impaling one on the beast's lethal antlers. Loki looked impressed.
The pair were an unstoppable force. Sif slid down off the creature, gutting it in the process, and strutted up to Loki who appeared to thank her with a smirking remark. They both behaved like this was nothing, smiling and jabbing at each other while they stepped over the entrails of their conquered foes. By the Great Tree did Ollerus have the coolest parents.
That is until they kissed, not even caring that their faces were covered troll blood. Gross.
Ollerus was about to fly back up to where Sif had told him to stay, fearing the punishment she would dole out while in battle mode, but then he saw another herd in the distance, a bigger one, at least twice the size maybe three times, closing in fast. Sif and Loki had noticed them too and their smiles were long gone. They now exchanged worried glances, their chests heaving anxiously, but they still readied themselves for the next wave. Ollerus readied himself too, positioning Fylla in an ideal hover behind some tall trees, the perfect spot to snipe.
This next batch didn't stand a chance. He would just keep telling himself that. Their ugly tribal tattoos only served as targeting points. They didn't scare him.
Ollerus waited until his parents engaged in battle before taking his first shot. The chaos of battle cries and clashing weapons were the best audial cover for a whistling arrow and the skull it cracked through. No one would suspect him. He chose his targets strategically, taking out the ones who were closest to landing a blow on his parents. They never saw what hit them. It was almost too easy, surprisingly. The trolls had no strategy or no military training. They just charged in with some crudely crafted weapon and seemed to think the more noise they made, the better chance they had at winning. Boy were they wrong. And it was costing them their lives, one arrow at a time.
The trolls still had strength in numbers and Ollerus could see how that was taking its toll on Loki and Sif. They were starting to look tired and the few blows the trolls had got on them were slowing them down. Sif's attacks were less precise and it was taking multiple swings to take down a foe rather than just one. Loki's spells were weakening as well, some of his ice spears shattering upon impact instead of penetrating. The bilgesnipe he had frozen into place were now breaking out and he didn't have the magical energy to recast the spells.
The animals went berserk in their frost-bitten confusion, trampling anyone in their path and headed directly toward Sif and the three trolls surrounding her. Loki cast several projections of himself in an attempt to lure the rampaging beasts away but it was no use. Ollerus repeatedly shot arrows into the scaly bodies, but half of them bounced off the natural armor and the ones that stuck were hardly a hindrance. Loki then appeared to drain all his remaining magical energy into one large spell, planting an ice wall in front of the herd of three. The action left him open to attack from a troll's bludgeon and he was knocked to the ground. He scrambled to get up but it wouldn't be quick enough before the troll could land his finishing blow. Ollerus put an arrow right through the assaulter's nasty unibrow.
It was no mystery to Loki who his hero was in that moment, but he didn't have time to express his gratitude while Sif was still greatly outnumbered. Both Ollerus and Loki shot their glance in her direction, seeing a crumbled ice wall, a couple of trolls trying to fend off an angry bilgesnipe, and, to their horror, a circle of trolls all closing in on what could only be Sif.
Ollerus grabbed for an arrow but he had run out. Loki yanked a knife from a nearby body and sent it into the back of a single assaulting troll, but it was too little too late as the other two trolls were still causing serious damage, kicking, scratching and ripping away plates of familiar silver armor. In desperation, Loki kept grabbing any weapon he could find and throwing it at the trolls, charging limply as he did so. He was liable to get himself killed in his wounded state, so Ollerus, as a last resort, steered Fylla toward the fray and swooped down to do whatever he thought he could do.
Just as he was about to throw himself onto a troll, another Pegasus halted Fylla in her dive. Upon that Pegasus was Reginleif, captain of the Valkyrie Guard, fully clad in her battle armor and looking frightfully fierce. Ollerus was so glad she was on their side. She hollered a command and the battlefield sang out with death cries from the remaining trolls and bilgesnipe. The Captain then led Ollerus to the ground where a battalion of warrior women were scouring the bodies for any signs of life, eliminating all threats. There would be no escorts to an honored afterlife for the slain here, not by these Valkyries.
Ollerus nearly stumbled to where he had last seen his mother, finding her surrounded by Valkyries who stood where the trolls had been. He shoved between their metal clad bodies and gasped when he saw Loki kneeling next to Sif's battered body supporting her head on his lap and pushing blood drenched locks off her face. His stomach clenched into a painful knot and he felt sick. He had never seen his mother this gored before, the battlefield wounds she had returned home with in the past with only paling in comparison.
"Can she be moved or shall we call for a healer?" Said one of the Valkyries.
"I–I don't know," Loki said with shuddering voice, a tone that only compounded Ollerus's worry. Sif was slashed, bruised and broken from head to foot. The blood on her arms matched the red of her skirt. Half of her armor had been ripped off and the flesh beneath was scratched and torn. She writhed upon the ground, fighting waves of pain.
"Sif," Loki said, cradling her cheek.
"I'm fine," she finally spoke, her voice weak and choked. "Where is Ollie?" Sif opened her one eye that wasn't swollen shut and lifted her head to scan the area.
Ollerus fell to her side and gently took her hand in his, afraid of moving it too much and causing more injury. "I'm here, Mother. I'm okay."
She exhaled in relief and then smiled. Through all of her obvious pain she actually smiled, and lifted her hand to his cheek. "My darling boy," she whispered, wincing at the effort to hold her arm up. "I'm sorry I slaughtered all the bilgesnipe before you had a chance to. Maybe next time?"
Ollerus snorted and exchanged glances with Loki who was relieved to hear Sif talking like herself. They both wordlessly acknowledged that it would take more than flesh wounds from mindless monsters to break the Lady Sif.
"Well, actually," Ollerus confessed. "I did get a few shots in, and I lost count of how many trolls I took out."
"You what?" Sif said, ramping up to lecture about disobeying her until Loki cut her off.
"Will you please conserve your energy. The boy doesn't need a lecture, rather a medal of honor. He's a hero. If he hadn't disobeyed you, we'd both be dead."
Ollerus was rendered speechless by the honor just bestowed upon him. His father just called him a hero, to his mother, who was lying victoriously in a pool of her own blood, showing off her wounds like they were badges to the Valkyries that bandaged them. Ollerus wasn't the hero here, it was everyone else. He wanted to say something equally flattering to Loki, and to Sif, who were a million times the hero Ollerus was, but words alluded him, stolen by the exhaustion that was now sweeping over his body.
The intensity of everything was finally catching up to him. He now had a whole new appreciation for the toll a battle could take on the body and mind, and he wasn't even fighting on the ground. He hardly noticed when Heimdall's luminous spell transported them back to the temple, barely registered his father's embrace and instructions to wait outside the healing chamber, vaguely felt Svala's hand entwine with his and offer a supporting squeeze after Loki disappeared down the hall. He only knew everything was going to be alright. That Elder Eir would fix his mother up good as new, that he would have all new stories to tell the girls, and that his father was not only proud of him, but considered him a hero.
Everything was going to be alright. All the signs were pointing to that. Elder Eir was the best healer ever and he could still hear Sif giving her grief while she patched her up. From what he could hear of Eir's responses, she seemed to be acting a little odd, but she was probably just mad at Sif for getting so beat up. Sif was going to be okay. Never mind that Loki just ran across the courtyard and into greenhouse. He was probably just fetching one of those rare magical herbs for Eir that sped up the healing process. Eir only used those in special cases, like when a patient lost a lot of blood and she needed to replenish it faster. That's what was happening now. Nothing too unusual.
A terrifying scream echoed through the hall, shattering all of Ollerus's assurances. It was Sif's scream.
Loki burst out of the greenhouse and ran with a fury back into the healing room. Ollerus's heart leapt and he was about to follow him but Eir emerged from the greenhouse, shivering and brushing shards of ice from her arms. She was moving as quickly as her obviously weakened body would allow, using the wall as support. Ollerus was baffled. He intercepted Eir as she headed for the healing room.
"Elder what happened?" He helped support her. "I thought you were in there treating Mother."
"I-I was at-tacked," she said with a shiver and Ollerus felt a horrible sinking in his gut.
"You–you're freezing cold," his voice betrayed all of his worry. "Did...my father attack you?"
"No," Eir said, "he freed me from the ice. I was attacked by-"
A dreadful cackling erupted from the healing room, followed by an enraged growl from Loki and the crashing of thrown objects. A mysterious apparition then floated out of the room, carrying the cackle with it. Eir stepped in front of Ollerus and her hands began crackling with a vicious white magic, but the threat dissipated and vanished before it could be attacked.
Eir and Ollerus stood frozen, uncertain what to do, until Loki called for help, his voice desperate. "Go," Eir said and Ollerus ran ahead with a pounding heart, skidding around the corner gasping in horror when he found Loki on the floor with Sif, cradling her, trembling. Sif was still conscious, barely, speaking, trying to explain what happened.
"Poison. She...injected me with poison." Each word was a hurdle, but she kept going. "Disguised herself as Eir. She said it was a painkiller. I...I didn't see it coming."
"Who did?" Ollerus cried.
"Angrboda," Eir said upon entering, bracing herself on the doorway. "She was the one who attacked me in the greenhouse." She looked down and went pale the moment she saw Sif. "Oh no..."
"Eir," Loki said, tears now streaking his face. "She's been poisoned. If you don't help her, she will die."
"Poisoned..." Eir echoed, trying to comprehend it all. Ollerus has never seen her so frightened before.
"Eir!" Loki pleaded. "You are the only one who can save her now. You need to pull it together."
Eir took a deep breath, gathering her strength and kneeling down at Sif's side, immediately pulling up the magical image of Sif's anatomy. Sif jerked, startled by Eir's proximity, and the sparkling image faded.
"Keep her away from me keep her away!" Sif wrestled in Loki's hold, finding some impossible reserve of strength to do so.
"Sif, stop." Loki tried to calm her down. "The imposter is gone. This is the real Eir. She's going to help you but she can't if you keep struggling."
Sif wasn't convinced but she didn't have anymore strength to fight. She instead glared with a single, bloodshot eye in Eir's direction, wincing as waves of pain coursed through her body and a tears streaked through the blood on her cheek.
"How do you know?" Sif spat. "How do you know its not Angrboda?"
Ollerus was at a complete loss. He didn't understand what was happening. "Who's Angrboda?"
No one answered his question. Filling Ollerus in with details wasn't a priority. Loki was focused on Sif, holding her still, trying to calm her down. He was also apologizing, repeatedly, stricken with a strange kind of fear that Ollerus could tell was different from the kind he was feeling.
"The witch is gone," Loki assured. "She retreated like the coward she is. I tried to stop her, but I failed...Oh, Sif. I am so sorry."
"It's not your fault, Father," Ollerus offered. It was the least he could do.
Sif finally calmed down enough so Eir could examine her. The sparkling map of her body appeared overhead again, glowing red where her flesh was rend and pumping with a sickly green where the poison was. It was everywhere. Eir battled her own emotions as she isolated and magnified a cell of poison, breaking it down into an identifiable substance. This was the point where she usually figured out what it was and would then concoct an antidote, sometimes sending Ollerus outside to collect a specific plant.
"Can I help, Elder?" Ollerus said. "Fetch an herb or something from the greenhouse?" He wanted to help. Wanted to do anything but stand there and watch his mother writhe in agony, conquered and helpless. It was so wrong. She was never supposed to look like that.
Eir swiped the illusion away then bowed her head, defeated and ashamed.
"Well, what it is!?" Loki was frantic.
"There is nothing we can do for her here," Eir said. "My antidotes will not work on a body so badly injured. They will only kill her faster. The only power that can offer her a chance at this point is Odin's, and he is asleep."
Loki shook his head. "That can't be. You are supposed to be the greatest healer of our time. What do mean there's nothing–"
Loki was interrupted when Sif stopped writhing, her pain seeming to subside enough to allow her to reach for him. She crept her blood-crusted hand up his chest then upon his cheek, her split lip stretching into a smile.
"My darling," she whispered, shaky and weak. "Look after Ollerus."
Ollerus felt a sharp pang in chest. Sif was drifting away quickly, not even realizing he was in the room, talking as if she was about to die. He wanted to say something to her but he didn't know what. Words only tangled in his throat. Any expression of sentiment would equate to a goodbye, and he wasn't about to concede to that. He could only share a glance with his father, and allow his tears to fall as they would.
"Sif," Loki said with a cracking voice, "do not speak in this manne—" She shushed him then brushed her finger over his lips.
"Tell him how much I love him," Sif ordered, putting an intimidating weight to her words despite her weakened state. "And know that I love you."
She slipped into unconsciousness in those last words. Eir immediately checked her vitals, going though all of the motions Ollerus had seen her do to mortally wounded Valkyries, except this time her hands were shaking. She checked for life signs, readied magical bolts in her finger tips to spark into her heart if necessary, and she squeezed Sif's hand, alternating kisses between it and her forehead.
"Mother?" Ollerus finally spoke, fearing there was no hope left to cling to. This was it. It was time to say goodbye. He wasn't sure he could manage that.
"She's..." Eir said, sitting up, her face a picture of disbelief. "She's slipped into a coma."
Ollerus had to take a seat, dropping his head into his hands. He wasn't sure he could handle anymore of this.
"You said Odin's magic can heal her?" Loki spoke with a despaired whisper.
Eir gave him a questioning look. "There's a small chance it can."
"Then I will awaken him." Loki then looked up at the ceiling. "Heimdall, take us to Gladsheim!"