Her mind was on fire, scarred and fragmented memories remerging with the synthetic ones. The woods, the snow, catching fish, a wolf named Tom. She was crying at what felt like a lifetime of memories resurfacing at once on the library floor. A warm stream trickled down over the top of her lips, droplets of crimson meshing with the puddle of blood and shattered glass in her hands. The strength of her grip, tight and constraining against the keepsake, had been too much for the tiny globe to take though the release brought by its destruction had been exhilarating.
Loki eyed her from above as one emotion after another took control of the broken mind in front of him. Tears became laughter, fear became anger, there was even a bout of boredom clear to see as memories played like dreams behind her glazed eyes. His face was taunt, his expression made of hard lines and his skin paler than usual. What exactly had he just done? A broken mind cracked further? Just how much more could a midgardian psyche take beyond this?
Silence, crazed laughter had fallen deaf leaving behind only ragged breathing and a motionless stare at the ground beneath her. He bent low to reach the strands of curly hair hiding her face from him, tucking the majority behind her ears before he felt the need to lower himself onto knees in order to administer aid of some kind. Clicking his fingers gave no reaction, clapping his hand not so much as a flinch.
"Motter?" He spoke slow and deliberately. "Do you hear me?" He received no answer, his fingers instead searching out a concealed handkerchief to at least wipe away the ugliness of her bloody nose.
"Loki?" Her voice was tired, shaky as it slipped past her lips as little more than a whisper.
"Yes?" Though relieved he continued to clean her face despite her eyes remaining lacklustre and distant.
"You did it."
"Yes, I did." The confession though long awaited held little of the consequence from its past.
"You let them do that to me because you're to much of a coward to admit it."
"I tried to stop it." He finished his cleaning work, moving down to her hands to pick shards of glass and place into the dirtied cloth for safekeeping. "The all father was determined. He would have concluded his undertaking no matter that I may have admitted to on the occasion."
"I hate you."
"I know."
"I wasn't sick?" Loki shook his head affirming in the negative. "I knew it. I knew it wasn't real. It was so… wrong. He took everything out and jammed all that junk in?"
"That is not exclusively the truth of it." He looked away; painfully aware her eyes were now glued to the side of his face with an extra strong adhesive. "My father tried to rid you of all your unwanted memories but his delicacy in the matter was as I feared. You began fitting, frothing at the mouth before he was half concluded. Healers attended to you next, a fever spiked, there was internal bleeding ordinarily indicative of head trauma. They worked to stabilise your body and I attended to your mind. I rebuilt your memories of the year, salvaged what I could left behind by the all father and stored them in the keep sake I found about your neck."
"You…" She paused, shaking her head with a hiss as the trickster plucked impaling glass out of her injured flesh. "How do I know these 'salvaged' memories are mine? You made up the rest. How… how do I know you didn't make these up?"
"There is no manner in which to create the perfect memory. Memories are specific to the person's views and traits. It is too circumstantial a thing to recreate with any accuracy." Loki steadied his gaze over her hands, lifted by his own, to make sure no more foreign objects remained within. "Your false memories feel unreal do they not?"
"Like banana milkshake." She exhaled despondently; exhausted and unable to rid herself of the spinning nature her sensory was in.
"And the memories you have now?"
"Like warmth."
"I believe that is just a new fever spiking." The blue glow between their hands halted, her wounds healed but a new concern etched across his features as he felt the heat coming off her skin. "Come, sit in a chair and I shall send for tea."
"And cinnamon rolls?" She enquired like a child might, as stronger arms pulled her up to standing and walked her over to a sturdy chair.
"If you must."
Assured of her seating and safety from falling, Loki turned with a steady purpose and marched the length of the library in search of servants outside. It was not such a difficult affair to discover one of many when servants came in abundance around the palace but, as always, it was a difficult matter to keep Motter out of trouble. Not more than a few minutes out of his sight and already the miscreant had vanished from where he left her. Without the need for a second or confirming thought on the subject, he knew exactly where the newly emerged amnesiac would head because it was exactly the last thing he would think of doing.
It certainly had been many years since the god of mischief had been found running through the corridors like a badly behaved child; he half expected to hear his mother scolding him from one end or the other but her chastisement never came. He had to reach her, stop her before more bad seeds were sown out of season. Perhaps that second thought had been necessary; the throne room was very much empty, Loki's brow creasing to accommodate his folly before a remembrance of his own resurfaced. Of course, the new years hunt.
Back peddling, the prince turned knocking down a cluster of pretty ladies of the court; receiving an unresponded selection of screams and shouts in reply. He had no time to care, not that he could care – most had been beneath him before and by now knew the rules of the game. Before his feet brought him to the palace stables, the unmistakable shrill tones of an upset midgardian were loud enough to hear from so far away.
"You just thought you could go into my head like some old laptop with a virus and delete files? I am not a machine! You have no right! You are not a god, you are certainly not my god! You should have left me on Jotunheim, I was happy there!"
"Jotun's are monsters, they would kill you in the end." Odin was doing his best to reason with the hysterical woman despite his obvious fury at being so harangued in front of his hunting party.
"The only monster I see is standing in front of me!"
"In the name of your king-"
"You are not my king, I already have a queen and her name is Elizabeth the second and she's a better ruler than you'll ever be! Did you really think, just because you kidnap me, keep me prisoner in another realm and tell me to behave when everyone else around me, including yourself, acts like a villain that I would somehow, magically, accept you than anything other than an overbearing old man?" Kari took an unstable step backwards, forehead doused in beads of sweat at the mixture of fever and exertion. "You're so deluded they should name a disorder after you! Call it the Odin-complex."
"Kari-" Balder, forgetting his horse besides him moved towards his previous nights lover only to be cut off and halted by livid attention now on him.
"Get your hands off of me!" She shook her shoulders, slapping the well-meaning warriors arm clumsily away as he spun in her vision. "Don't you damn well touch me again! Don't you get it? I remember everything! I remember your part in it too!"
"It was to prot-"
"To protect gods from a small mortal child?" Loki sounded inquisitive as he came forward, revealing himself to the group, though his meaning was meant more for insult.
"Loki, what have you done?" Thor waded in on the war of words, walking his steed over to stand next to his father.
"I am hardly the guilty party here, brother."
"Enough! All of you!" Odin commanded, having had enough of all the squabbling now taking place. "Ah!" He lifted his palm, silencing Kari's words with fear of retaliation before she could begin their shouting match once more. "I had thought this matter concluded, never to be brought to the open again. I see now even ghosts may not rest in peace. Have your memories, but accept also the consequences of them. That which I took, after your year of exile in Jotunheim, I now return in full. You have failed your penance, your tasks lay incomplete and I hereby condemn you to serve your remaining days within the dwarven mines-"
"Father!" Thor dismounted his steed in great hurry – somewhere in the back of his mind the knowledge the unpresent Fandral's already unhappy countenance may become overwhelming violent towards his person. "This is madness!"
"I agree with Thor, a midgardian as weak as-"
Loki's questionable words drifted out of earshot as Kari broke out into a run. Fever or not, hanging around for sentencing to mine labour was an insane action to take part in. She might be a little frayed around the edges but completely loco was not yet an optional choice in her framework. No, better to get the hell out of there, run for the hills or in this case the library. Asgard was hardly a safe place for her anymore, if it had ever been. She needed to get back to Jotunheim, back to the giantesses and whatever magic Loki used on her the first time was her best chance. It had to be in the books, somewhere, a section on teleportation or something.
Hastily, Kari worked her way through the bookshelves searching for something of use. Sweat ran down the sides of her face, her sleeves beginning to cling and offer little help against wiping the droplets out of her unsteady vision. There was no time to be good and proper, tomes falling to the floor around her as unwanted books were picked up then released to gravity.
The door to the library creaked open spooking her from her task. Footsteps quick paced but alone came ever closer. He slowed at the signs of vandalism left in his prey's wake, eyebrow raised in unfathomable judgment but eager to continue his task. Green eyes bore into blue, his shoulders relaxing minutely as he paused at the mouth of mysticism.
"Motter." He strolled towards her, book still in hand as she stared him down. "I-"
A flicker and she was gone. Loki stood stunned, a smile creeping the length of his face as he laughed at his own idiocy. How had he fallen for one of his own tricks? An illusion, nothing more and poorly constructed at that. His head was not in the game today.
Walking back through the row of book shaped destruction, the prince kept his senses aware following what little traces of her remained. Deeper into the library, silence apart from the wind blowing in through an open window. He paused at the sight, the air chilly and unwelcome amongst the internal warmth of the structure. He crossed the pathways, a hand reaching out to pull the window shut but something made him halt. A familiar scent on the breeze or perhaps just wishful thinking.
"Meet me outside the weapons vault in the lower levels." He spoke to seemingly the air, as there was none else to see either in the room or outside it from the vantage of the window.
Replacing the lock, he stared out at the scenery ahead of him for a moment longer. The view of the water below was magnificent from this vantage but there were still tasks to take care of.
On the outside peering in, Kari released the breath she had been holding now that the trickster was away somewhere within the library. Her form shimmered into life once more; feet precariously perched on the window ledge as she tried not to contemplate the distressingly long drop down ahead of her. A book was clasped firmly under an arm, the other gripping in the cracks in the brickwork to maintain a sense of balance. The wind was not her friend today, howling and pushing against her sides as if wishing her to fall. Not today.
Carefully, one foot at a time, she began the arduous task of sliding across the ledge trying to reach the safety of a balcony that seemed to be miles off yet was most likely less than a hundred feet in distance away. Why had the architect never thought to build a fire escape or something else more useful? A flimsy bit of brickwork barely wide enough for a small woman's feet was really out of order.
She froze as another round of wind blowing whistled past tossing her hair into her eyes and tried to loosen the book in her arm. This was ridiculous, why did he have to close the window behind her? She could have just jumped back in after he left. What was that mischief-maker up to? Meet him outside the weapons vault? Why? Was he going to stab her with something?
Concentration no longer on the task in front of her, she pressed her weight too soon on the next run of ledge finding the stone loose and shaky as she thought for balance. She needed her other hand to grip the wall, but the book, she needed the book too. Before either debate could be voted on, however, a heart wrenching 'crack' fluttered up through the base of her spine to her ears. The ledge below her shifted then slid out from under her. Kari screamed dropping down but managing to catch the remaining next section of stone - at a price. Dangling by her fingers, she stared down at the fluttering tome spinning its way ever downward towards the water far below.
"No… come on." She whined unthankful in the least for her life at the price of paper and ink. "Wait… come on… up you stupid book! Up!"
Bellowing down at the object made little difference to it's predicament, or her own, though the fierceness of concentration across her features soon repelled back the sweaty fevered nature of her forehead. She had done this before, not quite so precisely or by directly trying but it had happened; she could do it again. All she had to do was persuade the wind to stop battling against her and-
The book paused, shooting back upwards in an erratic spiral. Just as her thoughts were now trying to turn away from delighted achievement onto the difficult task of what to do now the book was airborne, the carrying gust shot past with book in tow only to snatch her along with it. Kari squealed as she was catapulted up into the air the wrong way round. Asgard looked scary from the ledge but now it was terrifying piss your pants sort of high and far away. Wait, did she just pass a cloud?
"Shit balls! Fucking shit balls!"
There was a moment of weightlessness; her eyes bulging at the realisation all upwards motion had just ceased before her stomach lurched at the sensation of falling. She really did not have time for screaming, thought the passing geese certainly had time to make freaked out sounds of surprise. The wind had a lot to answer for right now, but first it needed to listen to her and get her down without dying.
"Comeoncomeoncomeon…"
Kari focused once more; she just needed a stream, like when she caused the whiteout in the training yard. A steady stream underneath her, with just enough force to keep her up but not pushing higher then cutting diagonally across to tilt her away from the pointy bits on the roof and-
"Ahahahaha! I am so superwoman right now." She chuckled at the awkward, jolting hovering she was sort of doing above the palace.
As if some kind of reward for her kind of flying, the lost book bounced against the side of her head momentarily making her lose concentration enough to fall several feet. Whatever, she had this down, back to hovering and a bit closer to the ground with her book. How did you steer yourself properly?
"To the left wind?" She enquired of the air finding herself thrown a great deal less gently than she would have liked, leftwards through a cloud then down again narrowly missing a very high forges exhaust. "I get the feeling you don't like me very much." She sighed, as another gust of diagonal wind blew her unrequested leftwards again.
This time she narrowly missed not a thing. The tree that blocked her path had been quite large and thorough in hitting her with its branches. Groaning, she swore several times under her breath thankful not to be hovering any longer but quite bruised and stuck at odd angles in a tree's grasps. There were leaves in her face and an angry squirrel bouncing up and down on the branch her head was currently resting upon, chittering loudly his anger at her trespass. At least she still had the book.
Untangling herself from branches, Kari shoved the book under her shirt, tucking her top into the waist of her jeans to stop it from falling out. It was a long climb down but at least there was hardly anyone around in the fields to see her clumsy half falling and twig infused hair. Somewhere in the distance she could hear children playing; most likely Garthar and Dagur among their number. If only things were different, maybe if Garthar had been a bit older. No point in thinking about that now, she needed to get down and escape asgard before Odin sent her to a mine.
Reaching the ground, with her rear, Kari hissed as she stood rubbing her backside as if touching the forming bruises was going to help matters. She needed somewhere to draw the teleporting pattern she had seen Loki use from the book and also something to draw it with. The river was not too far, just over the hill with plenty of rocks and sticks. Rocks and sticks might work right? Whatever, she needed to try with what was at hand.
Hobbling at a jog across the fields, she made her way up over the hill and down again towards the riverbank. It was indeed littered with all number of washed up debris fit for use. She started first by clearing a space of stones and driftwood large enough to accommodate her needs then opened the book riffling through the pages until she found a great big picture with the word for Jotunheim above it. This had to be it, just follow the diagram and instant teleport right?
Taking a hand full of debris she had piled to the sides she began mapping out the pattern on the ground. It was wonky, hardly as elegant as Loki's interpretation with chalk on marble but what was she going to do when lacking all three of those components. It looked close enough; hopefully her footprints would not have an effect on the end product but now what? Oh right, a word of power. Oh how magic liked its words of power.
"Uh… Charreth?" She held the book up, standing in the centre of her handiwork trying not to kick anything out of place. "Oh come on… Charref? Carreth? Oh wait… that's an 'N'… Channeth?"
The debris around her glowed a mixture of red and gold around her for a second before growing dim. She was sure it had glowed blue last time and for a lot longer. Why was this not working?
"Channe-"
A loud 'pop' distracted her, a sudden burst of heat filling her lungs and making her attempt to choke but there was no air. Actually there was no anything around her other than a weird sort of gooey blackness. This definitely was not right.