Chapter 13

It was dark by the time Imogen was stumbling through the streets of Asgard, lights from the lining houses and buildings guiding her path with a yellow glow. The light reflected gloriously off the already golden surface of the bridge, illuminating her steps.

It should have been beautiful, but she didn't care. Her eyes were dull and lowered, shimmering with light tears that she wasn't willing to let run over her cheeks yet. Distant images of Thor perched between Linda's legs flashed in her mind, driving the numbing stake even deeper into her heart. Thor and Linda. Thor and Linda..

What if he got her pregnant?, she thought with a ghastly horror. If they had a baby.. would it be treated as equally to Shelby? That would be sick. Their royal princess next to that whore's offspring.

It was one thing to disgrace her, but her daughter too...

She didn't notice where she was walking, knowing only that it was moving away from the palace. Away from Thor.

She didn't want to think about him. Her mind tried to steer away from anything to do with the unfaithful prince, focusing on anything but. But it couldn't even focus. She couldn't even look up. Vaguely, she knew that there were other people around her, making their way home as the night began to set in and darkness engulfed the kingdom but she couldn't look up to see any of them. Not even when her shoulder nudged one of them harshly out of her way – she was already staggered away by the time the protesting shout hit her ears, not even blinking.

They didn't recognize her, she thought dimly in her mind. Well, who would? Who would recognize this staggering mess of a woman as the queen of the kingdom? It was unthinkable….

Her hand rose shakily to her head and she felt the tangled mess of her hair. Vaguely, she remembered raking her hands though it, tangling it in the process, as she'd wondered past the tavern of happy, laughing people. She hated them. It made her feel sick - what right did they have to be so happy when her life was falling apart? A part of her would have liked to get raging drunk but her desire to be alone overwhelmed that easily. She didn't want to be around joyous people.

Her body felt heavy. The effort just to drag her legs forward one after the other… it felt like hours that she just lugged on, one step after another. Bit by bit, the streets emptied completely and darkened.

Every step echoed around her, the light from the windows put out now. She couldn't look up, but she was pretty sure the moon and stars would be shining above her. It was late. Stupidly late…

Was Thor done yet? Would he be sleeping in her arms by now, satisfied? Or would they pleasure one another deep into the night, still consumed with passion?

Her foot caught on a loose paving stone and she stumbled, hand shooting out to steady herself against the wall of the house she fell against. The air gasped into her lungs, mind running blank with shock. Bending over slightly, she stared down at the black cobbled floor beneath her.

Cobbled… the inner city wasn't cobbled. Numbly, she lifted her head and looked around her. She blinked in surprise; trees. The house she fell against wasn't really a house, but the ruins of one. The foundations of the small building were still embedded in the ground, but the wooden planks that had made it's walls had decayed and been knocked out. It wasn't hard to see the back of the house through the front, as well as the wrecked boxes inside. Imogen's eyes moved to where her hands lay: one corner of the house still stood, one strong pillar standing vertical, supporting the fallen scaffolding of a roof that had caved in long ago.

And beyond the house were trees; tall and leafy, though in the darkness it looked foreboding and dangerous. The forest wasn't dense, plenty of space between the trees -but it was still ominous.

Imogen just blinked. She was pretty sure she couldn't have made it to the wilderness on foot this quickly… that was impossible. But the trees were here…

Her lips parted as the sound of distant trickling water hit her ears.

Water… there was a stream close. Imogen tried to think of where she was, trying to visualize when she scanned the kingdom from the palace and remember where she might have seen this place. Not the water that was for sure, not in a river anyway. Her best guess was that she was near the coast, where a small cluster of trees cut off the civilization a little, guiding it further inland.

She must be on those outskirts. Near the edge...well, she'd wanted peace. She'd found it. Nobody lived here. The only people that passed here were the fishermen when they went to the coast for a catch. The buildings weren't homes – they were storage shacks, full of boating and fishing equipment...although the worst of a storm looked like it had weathered most of them.

Imogen's mind flew back to their son's death and the week of storms that had followed. That must have raised quite a flood from the sea. Had Thor's grief nearly leveled this fishing port?

Slowly Imogen straightened up and her eyes lingered on the trees, eyes squinting through the darkness. She couldn't shake the feeling that something between the trees was watching her.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she straightened up completely, letting her hand fall from the shack's ruined – and damp, she now noticed – remains. Shivers tingled up her spine. Her mind fought for reason; there were no bears or lions this close to the city. Anything dangerous was way out in the mountains. But something was watching her. Or someone.

Her eyes hardened. "Who's there?" she called out, refusing to bow to fear and run away. She was Queen of this realm…well, she was supposed to be. Even without her king.

Her cold orbs scoured the trees, but nothing stared back. Still, she could feel it; she wasn't alone.

Then the sharp cry of a baby made her jump.

Her pride cowered in a heartbeat- startled, her hands braced out, her eyes wide and her lips parted in a sharp gasp as the infant's wail cut through the night. It echoed - Imogen spun around, scanning the shacks, the trees - everything! - around her in fright. A baby... her baby?

"No." she breathed, fingers starting to tremble. The cries didn't stop. "No." She darted around as the baby seemed to scream from the forest. "It can't be..."

Her heart ached as she remembered her baby - her dead baby. What was this? Something beyond the grave? Another wail of a baby from the shadows of the trees - Imogen's hands rose to cover her ears. She didn't want to hear this. Whatever it was, it was cruel. Her heart bled for her poor, lost baby.

What was this? There was nobody here for miles so how could she be hearing a baby crying? There was nobody… unless it wasn't someone living. The image of her dead son solidified in her mind and her knees buckled. Was she cursed even now? She could hear him… crying.. she'd never heard him cry. He'd never been alive. Now he was, cursing her, torturing her. Why? Because he had died, while she had lived? Because she was the reason he hadn't had a chance to live? Her poor baby…

Her head snapped around trying to pinpoint the source of the cries, trying not to lose it. Breaths rasped from her lungs, throat dry as sandpaper. The sound seemed everywhere. Perhaps it wasn't real. Maybe it was all in her head.

That didn't make it any less terrifying though. Didn't make her feel any less guilty. Was he punishing her? The only was he could…

Her eyes settled on the shadows columns of the trees of the forest, round and glistening, searching… then her vision blurred with tears and she bowed her head, ramming the heel of her hands up to her eyes. Gods, she sniffed, chest tight as she struggled to breathe, please stop…

It didn't.

It got louder.

It wasn't my fault, she told herself, the tears streaming down her cheeks, head shaking. Her vision swam – gods, was she going to pass out? Yes, she willed, please.

"It wasn't my fault." Her voice broke on the last note as her feet backed away from the forest. Everything inside her wanted to run but she was rooted to the spot. The sound was wrenching but she couldn't leave it. It hurt like hell..but it was an experience she'd been denied before, hearing her baby cry. It made her remember him, feel close to him, even though he was gone. The hole the cries were carving in her heart was also the most comforting thing she'd felt since his death. The most painful thing too.

She wasn't sure how much she could take. Her heart was beating so fast, happy, but in agony at the same time. How could it cope with these feelings? It hurt so much…

"Shhh, baby."

Imogen froze.

Her eyes snapped open and hovered, staring at the patch of grass in front of the forest before the trees began, not even daring to breathe. Someone had spoken. Someone not her; she wasn't alone.

Then this wasn't a hallucination.. this wasn't in her head. It was real. A real baby was crying, and a real person was comforting it. Imogen's heart balked – so it wasn't her baby. He was still gone. She straightened up stiffly, hands falling back to her sides. The loss seemed to bleed afresh into her soul, heart chilling. Her eyes were duller as they stared ahead to the trees.

She listened, just staring at nothing. The woman hushed again, and Imogen could just imagine arms rocking the infant, the baby's face as it started to whimper and settle, and then finally fall silent…then all Imogen could hear was the faint trickle of the stream as it ran to the sea.

The tears welled in her eyes again, but she wouldn't let them fall. She felt broken enough to weep for years, so crushed with disappointment…but someone was here. She couldn't.

The idea of turning back twitched at her knees; she'd come seeking solitude, but would quite obviously not find it here. Perhaps she should go back to the tavern and get drunk after all. Perhaps she should find a man to lie with while Thor lay with another, getting even. As soon as the idea cropped in her mind she knew it wasn't an option, knew it wasn't a right. Thor was the king. He could do whatever he wanted.

She was his wife.

She couldn't.

She had to leave. Find somewhere else to sit and cry and lose herself in sorrow, the images of Thor thrusting between Linda's thighs and the ghost of her dead son burning into her soul. She turned to go.

"I never thought I'd see you here." A voice called out behind Imogen, calm and clear. The Queen froze instantly. "Outside your perfect little world."

Imogen's eyes were wide as she recognized the voice – one she hadn't heard for a long time. One she'd thought she'd forgotten. One she'd last heard screaming as guards dragged her from the justice room away to the prisons, three years ago...

She turned around and faced Elga's dark, venomous eyes, her thin frame stood leaning back against one of the forest trees. A baby, squirming against the dirty ragged blanket it lay in, was cradled in her arms. The dress she wore was old and dirty – but not as filthy as the clothes Imogen had seen her leave the prison with a year ago. Her cheeks hadn't filled out since then, still sunken, body thin. She looked on the brink of life.

"You..." Imogen breathed, shocked. She never expected to see Elga here – gods, she never thought she'd see Elga again, let alone here! And with a baby…

Her eyes honed in on the child in Elga's arms, orbs darkening. A baby. Her heart raced, feeling the instinct to reach out and snatch it from her enemy's arms twitching strongly through her limbs. She resisted…just.

A part of her knew she ought to be afraid. The last time she'd seen Elga, and the hatred she'd held for her, she'd been afraid. Scared of Elga's revenge, of her fury. She'd been willing to have Imogen sent to prison just for knowing her fiancé. For putting her in jail for two years…what would her wrath entail then? It sent chills down her spine.

But the baby.. her eyes were still on the baby.

What had happened to Elga in the last year?

"You.." Imogen started, but her voice croaked. She wet her lips and tried again. "You have a child?" Her eyes lifted from the infant to Elga's narrowed orbs. "You married?"

Who? She couldn't help but wonder. Elga was thrown in disgrace for what she'd done. Yet, she'd married and had child. Had Koli married her in the end after all, even without her good reputation? She couldn't think of anyone else shameless enough to marry Elga.

Elga's lip curled in a humourless, sickening smile. "Not married." She snarled sweetly. Her tone quickly dropped into bitterness. "You remember Koli."

Yes, Imogen answered in her head. She didn't dare say it aloud.

A flicker of life sparked back in Elga's orbs. A wicked cruel glint. "We were to be married…. but then when I got pregnant, he changed his mind. Father couldn't bear the shame either and cast me out."

Imogen drank it in silently. So her father had taken her back, despite her disgrace, but the baby was the last straw? The Queen's eyes grazed over Elga's form again. She looked like a woman that slept on the ground every night. How had her baby survived in the wilderness? Where did Elga sleep, get food? Imogen knew she didn't like the woman, but Elga looked barely alive. Imogen had never wanted to do that to her…

"I'm sorry." She breathed, heart heavy with guilt – something she wasn't accustomed to. Still, she felt it this time. This was her fault.

Elga's lip curled even more. "I don't want your pity." It was unnerving how she could say such things with such a sweet smile, while her eyes gleamed with malice. "But I know what you want."

The moment those words left her lips, Imogens' blood chilled – even more so as Elga shifted her arms, angling them so Imogen had a clear view of her baby. Gods, he was beautiful. Tiny and fragile, but precious and perfect. His eyes were closed as he squirmed sleepily in his mothers arms. Her eyes were drawn to him.

"You lost your son. I heard about it. Word crawled through every inch of the city." Elga said mockingly. "And now I have one instead." She laughed cruelly as Imogen's eyes snapped up defensively. The Queen's eyes narrowed, mouth thinning. She wouldn't let Elga see the way she was chipping her heart apart – though she was pretty sure she knew it anyway from the look in her eye. "How ironic." She went on softly. "The very thing you want and it happens to be mine."

Imogen's fists curled at her side, gritting her jaw. She could feel her eyes shimmering, glistening as the tears build alongside her pain. Using her child… that was a cruel blow, even for Elga.

"Where is your husband?"

Imogen tried not to wince, fighting down the heartbreaking thoughts flashing through her mind. "He's busy." she said in a deadly whisper. Fucking your sister, something cold added in her mind.

Elga's grin just widened. "Busy… but not busy with you. How does it feel to be like the rest of us for a change, hm? Not nice, when the prince isn't in your favour, is it-"

"Shut up!" Imogen snapped, will breaking. It took everything she had to hold back from striding forward and striking Elga. "Don't compare us! You are cast in shame, alone, disgraced." Her chin tipped up proudly. "I am your Queen."

"Without Thor, you're nothing." Elga countered flawlessly, grin not faltering. "Without him, you're just a maid like the rest of us."

Imogen's face fell in a heartbeat.

Looking at Elga, she saw herself – herself if Thor really did choose Linda over her. Nothing. A child at her hip. Disgraced. Exactly as Elga was now. It was harrowing..

"You couldn't give him a son and now he doesn't want you anymore." Elga hissed quietly.

Everything inside Imogen wanted to argue…but she couldn't. Elga was right. Imogen had failed him and – as much as it killed her inside – he was finding someone else who wouldn't. She understood. She hated it, but understood. Elga was right.

"You're right." She muttered numbly, eyes falling to the ground beside Elga's feet but not seeing anything. They were lost in thought.

She was Elga. There was nothing different about the two women now. Both were in love, trusting their men. Both had bore their children…and both had been discarded when their purpose was done. They were the same.

Numb steps guided Imogen forward more than any conscious effort but she didn't fight it once she realized. She noted Elga tense. Her head lifted as she trudged level with Elga…but lowered again as she stepped past. Reaching out to the tree beside Elga's, Imogen leant her shoulder against it, letting herself slide to the ground down its trunk. Her eyes lingered lifelessly.

"There are all sorts in that forest." Elga said quietly, voice soft – softer than Imogen had ever heard it before, almost sounding vulnerable. She was scared, Imogen realized. "Not just me. All sorts of men…"

It must have been terrifying, Imogen thought. To have been sheltered and fed by her father, loved by Koli… and then finding herself on the streets, with no one but herself to look after her. And a baby on the way too… how did Elga survive? Scavenge for food? How did she brave the winter? But somehow she had, and Imogen commended her for that. Would Imogen survive if she were in Elga's place?

"Can I stay here?" Imogen asked.

Elga scoffed lightly. "It's your kingdom."

Imogen's lips lifted in a smile, and her eyes followed, finding Elga's gaze. Sad… not hostile. Just sad, and weary. Like Imogen. They really were the same.

She didn't know what to say anymore, but stayed silent as Elga slid down her own tree, joining Imogen on the ground. Both of them had nowhere to else to go. Imogen couldn't face the palace yet, and her parents' house… no, she couldn't go there. She'd rather stay with Elga, in this peaceful place.

The distant trickle of the stream was like a lullaby and Imogen could feel it lulling her eyelids heavier. As the stars pricked brighter in the sky as the night wore on, it became harder to keep her head up to see them. Finally, when the moon was hovering over the forest, gleaming in a crescent shape, her head lolled to the side; Elga was slumped asleep against the tree, her baby strapped to her front.

This really was a peaceful place, Imogen thought – her last thought before her eyelids drooped and she too slipped into a blissful slumber.