"Are you certain?" Volstagg asked, drawing Sif's attention to the other cell and her friends.
"Aye," Hogun confirmed from where he sat, still dressed in his old clothes. "I will not eat it."
Now she had some more context, Sif saw Volstagg held a slop bowl even as a second lay on the floor beside him. She could not imagine wanting to eatmoreof it, but, if one were hungry, she supposed it may start to look more appealing.
"Very well," Volstagg replied, raising the bowl to his lips.
"Oi, what is going on here?" one of the guards demanded. "You, stop!"
Sif could only watch in dismay and no little horror as Volstagg's arm froze, the bowl just short of his lips. Though she had known it likely the guards would be able to force them to do little things while within the confines of Iðavöllr, 'twas still a horrible shock to witness. It also brought all of her horror and terror from two days ago flooding right back to her. Not only from when she had been forced to do things against her will, but also from when Loki had been locking the collar around her throat and whispering his arcane words. She had been certain she had felt his seiðr all around her before it had begun to sinkintoher, slithering insidiously into her body and mind, seeping into her blood and weaving itself around her bones.
"Is that your meal?" the guard demanded.
Say aye, say aye! Sif silently urged her friend.
"Nay," Volstagg replied.
"Then why do you have it?"
"I..."
"Answer truthfully," the guard snapped.
He was enjoying this, Sif could tell. No doubt it made him feel mighty and powerful, not only being able to command a prisoner at will, but being able to lord it over them in particular. For not only had they made it to the elite Einherjar where this guard had failed to do so, but they were close friends and companions of Prince Thor, crown prince and rightful heir to Hliðskjálf!
This guard and his brethren were never going to get closer to the royal family than this.
"Hogun does not want it and I am still hungry," Volstagg answered.
"Hogun, eat your meal," the guard ordered. "And get changed."
Sif clenched her fists as she watched Hogun rise, every movement stiff and economical, without a single wasted effort. That alone would have told her he was fighting the collar every step of the way and she felt both proud of, and humiliated for, him as he was forced to comply with the guard's orders. It did also raise the worrying thought of whether she could be forced to strip as part of a command to get changed. Up to now, the barrier had always been made opaque, but what if 'twas not? Could the safeguards be bypassed in that manner? She was afraid to test it, just in case, as it would be so like Loki to leave that kind of gap to make it seem like he had made an effort while still leaving her vulnerable.
Then they were ready and could only wait for someone to come collect them for their first day of forced labor. Even now, the mere thought was enough to make Sif sneer. Only Loki could debase such accomplished and renowned warriors as them by performing manual labor. They were not common peasants!
"You will attempt to escape," Heimdallr stated, looking directly at her.
"Of course," Sif replied, for how could they not? "We would take you with us if we could."
"Do not concern yourself with me. I shall be restored as soon as Óðinn awakens, and Loki seems to have nothing more planned for me than mere incarceration here."
"Are we certain of that?" Fandral asked.
"You suspect more?" Sif questioned.
"It seems far too simple for Loki."
"He took Heimdallr's sight!" Volstagg protested.
"Aye, but 'twas for practical purposes," Fandral argued. "And we all know what Loki is like when someone angers him."
As he said it, Fandral looked over at her and Sif had to resist the urge to reach up and touch her hair. Even now, three centuries later, the condition of her hair still smarted. It had become marginally better since it had grown out from the impromptu hair cut Loki had given it, but its awful coal black color still never failed to make her wince every time she looked in the mirror. She had possessed such beautiful golden hair once and been then envy of all the ladies at court. She should have known 'twas only a matter of time before Loki did something, as the jealous coward could never bear it if someone was more liked than him.
"Fandral makes a good point," Hogun spoke up.
From the way Heimdallr reacted, Sif could tell they were correct. There was another component to the gatekeeper's punishment.
"You know what else he means to do," Sif said. "Did he tell you of it ere we arrived?"
"Nay, he did not have to be quite so direct," Heimdallr replied. "And it matters not what it is, I can endure it until Óðinn awakens."
"If you are certain, Heimdallr," Fandral replied.
"I am."
"Very well," Sif said. "Good luck."
"And you, though I fear you will need more than mere luck to succeed."
The words made Sif frown and she wished to question them, but Hogun raised his hand for silence, so she did not. After Loki, Hogun had always been the one in their group to hear the enemy coming first. It had grated, this ability of Thor's little brother, but now she liked to think of it as like being able to sense like. Loki had always been able to sense the enemyfarbetter than anyone else, too much so to merely have slightly better hearing. He had probably used seiðr and simply refused to tell them.
Then one of the prison guard supervisors was there with four of his men.
"Ready for your first act of penance, traitors?" the man whose name Sif had never bothered to learn asked.
Sif considered responding, but she did not wish to know what he might do in retaliation. Nay, the best revenge would be to escape while his men were meant to guard them, then he would be at fault for their incompetence.
"Nothing to say? Well, mayhap you can be taught," the man continued, and she had to grit her teeth not to respond, seeing Fandral place a placating hand on Volstagg's arm. "Good. Now, when we lower the barriers, you will step out of your cells and calmly follow my men to the main courtyard, where you will get into the waiting cart for transport to your first assignment. You will not attempt to either escape or cause any disruptions while doing so. Understood?"
"Aye," Sif found herself responding along with the Warriors Three.
The smiles the guards shared made her want to bash their heads in. Instead, Sif carefully memorized their faces so she would be able to recognize them again later and obtain her revenge. No one treated her like this! No one, not even Loki - spoiled royal highness that he was - had come away unscratched from treating her thus before. Aye,shehad not been the one to punish him, but Thor had been more than willing to do so on her behalf when Loki had turned her hair black. It had hardly been fair, but at least she had obtained some measure of vengeance and achieved at least some blood price.
Then the barrier keeping her confined to her cell dropped and Sif stepped forwards, electing to move under her own volition for now, rather than be forced to by Loki's seiðr. She hated the feel of it under her skin, forcing her body to obey the guards' commands. It made her feel dirty and she wondered how long it would take after the working was broken before she would feel clean once more. She feared it might be never.
Was it too much to hope for Óðinn to take his son's head for this? Lokihadusurped Hliðskjálf after all, a crime which was punishable by death and normally was.
A quick glance at her companions showed only Fandral had elected to do as she and move of their own volition. Both Volstagg and Hogun had the stiffer, mechanical motions of robots and she felt ill at the comparison. 'Twas what Loki had reduced them down to; machines.
Even as she watched, though, Sif could see Volstagg's movements evening out and she was glad. She could understand his anger, she too hated being obedient and doing what any of her captors wished, but they had little choice here and now. Thus, 'twas better to conserve their energy for a later escape attempt. Besides, some good behavior here could lull the guards into a false sense of security for when they did act. No doubt Loki had bragged of his power and accomplishments to them, so they would believe they had nothing to be concerned with, the fools. They must have failed to become Einherjar for some reason, after all.
'Twas amazing how good it felt to simply leave the dungeons, something she had always taken for granted before. The thought she would never do so again was too horrible to contemplate, so she did not. She did not deserve to be here and 'twas only so because Loki had done the unthinkable and betrayed not only his own family, but all of Ásgarðr as well.
Thinking of it now, Sif could not believe she had not seen this coming. She, who had always known who and what he was, not to mention precisely how envious Loki had always been of Thor. But then, mayhap, 'twas a good thing as it meant she did not think like a usurper and blood traitor, but how did the good defend against the actions of those if their crimes were so unthinkable?
The first jeers and calls brought Sif back to the present and she tried to school her expression, to not show how much the looks and whispers of the other members of court they had just come across on their way affected her. Though she did not know their names, she recognized them as newer and lowlier members of court, so of course they were taking the time to gloat at them now. It probably made them feel self-important and powerful to do so; to sneer at ones like them who were so highly placed in comparison.
Then they were past the main corridor and down one Sif did not immediately recognize. It took her a moment to realize 'twas a servants' corridor and one for the palace guards to move about more effectively. She had never used them before. It meant she was not entirely certain where they were until they joined up with a main corridor once more, through a marble wall panel. Before she could think any more on it, they were out in the main courtyard and Sif could see the cart waiting for them. As before, 'twas one of the bare basic ones she had used a hundred times to transport prisoners in, and, exactly like the dungeons, 'twas not something she had ever thought she would see the other side of.
The trickster would pay for all that he had done to them! And, if Óðinn did not execute him, she would ensure she still obtained her own blood price. This time she would also see if she could not exact it herself, instead of needing Thor to do it. Loki should not still have his protections as a prince of Ásgarðr after all of this, at the very least. In her opinion, 'twas why the trickster had become so bad. Since he had never been sufficiently punished for all of his crimes, he kept on committing them.
"I hate seiðr," Fandral declared as he climbed onto the cart beside Sif.
"I hate seiðmenn," she shot back.
"Sif!" Fandral hissed, eyes darting about. "The guards."
"I do not ca-"
"Well you should!"
"It hardly matters, once we are far away enough from Iðavöllr, the seiðr should fail."
"What?"
"You heard Heimdallr, this is dökkálfarian seiðr," Sif said.
"Aye, and?"
"And how oft have we heard Loki complaining of how unwilling the dökkálfar are to share their seiðr?"
"I have lost count."
"Precisely."
"You believe he will not have done it right?" Volstagg questioned.
"But then why does it work even now?" Hogun asked, motioning towards the back of the cart. "I cannot leap out and fight as I otherwise would."
"We are still within the palace grounds and thus close to Loki," Sif explained. "With distance it should weaken, at which point we can escape."
"'Tis what you were having words with Heimdallr about," Fandral realized. "I thought you might have a true plan."
"'Tis a true plan!"
"One which relies on Loki performing poor seiðr, and how often have we witnessed that?"
"I can think of a few instances," Volstagg replied.
"Precisely, a few," Fandral retorted. "We may not like it, but Loki is a good seiðmadr and renowned for it."
"So you think we should not even try?" Sif demanded hotly, her hand shooting out to grasp hold of the side of the cart as it lurched into movement unexpectedly.
The arrogance of the guards to not even make a show of restraining them grated. They were not a group of harmless individuals, but the renowned Warriors Four, feared in all the Realms!
"Nay, of course not!" Fandral protested. "But we should not assume it will be so easy. This is Loki we are contending with."
"A dishonorable coward," Hogun uttered. "Who moved against his own brother."
"But a talented seiðmadr and we are dealing with seiðr," Fandral countered, reaching up to touch his collar. "We have already all tried to fight it and been defeated."
"Within the dungeons and near Loki!" Sif retorted.
"Aye, but you felt the seiðr as he performed it, sinking into your very flesh, did any of that feel weak to you?"
Sif hated to admit that nay, it did not, so she merely shook her head, shuddering as she could still clearly recall the cold sickly feel of it as it sunk its way into her. If she concentrated hard even now, she could almost imagine she could feel it right now, polluting her very essence with the liesmith's disgusting presence and influence.
"I can feel it in every part of me," Hogun admitted, looking down at his hands. "Even now 'tis there, lurking just under the skin, merely waiting to burst to life and control me."
The admission made Sif swallow thickly and she tried not to think of it. Having been raised on Vanaheimr, Hogun had been taught far more seiðr than he had ever wished to learn. She herself had been luckier, being able to evade all of her mother's lessons thereof. She had known from a very young age that she didnotwish to be a healer like her mother, but rather a warrior like her father, even if he had always been against the very idea.
"Here we go," Volstagg warned, and Sif looked up to see they were approaching the main gates of Iðavöllr.
Of course, after being taken out of Iðavöllr via the servants' corridors, Loki was now having them taken out the biggest and most public entrance to the palace grounds. The venomed traitor!
Then they were through the gates and Sif's eyes were darting everywhere, attempting to do a proper threat assessment. She could almost still feel where the rotten tomato had hit her the last time. At least now, she was not chained to the cart and thus able to defend herself as she had not been ordered not to.
It took a few moments before they were properly spotted, but once they were, a cry went up amongst the people and soon they were the center of attention once more. The cries of disapproval began immediately and Sif scowled at anyone who would meet her eyes. How dare they whom had been defended by herself and her companions either judge or condemn them? They did not realize the peril they were currently in with that pretender on Hliðskjálf! She was certain they would learn, but she dreaded to think what would need to happen in order for them to do so.
Luckily, this time there were less people in the streets as 'twas still quite early, so they moved far more rapidly than before. They rode swiftly past the passage of kings and over bridges leading to the lower levels. They soon left the more architecturally grand heart of the city behind, moving faster and further out, the buildings becoming more and more plain. Loki had not been wrong when he had said the eastern edge of the city.
"I do not believe I have been out this way before," Fandral said.
"Nor I," Volstagg agreed.
Why would they, Sif wondered as she wrinkled her nose. Did these people have no shame? Who would allow their homes to descend into such a state of disrepair? No wonder they required assistance with their road maintenance if they kept their homes thus! Rather than pandering to them, Loki should allow them to wallow in their filth until they actually did something about it themselves.
"Norns," Fandral muttered suddenly.
"What?" Sif asked, glancing at him.
"I think I caught sight of some of the road we will be working on," Fandral replied, gesturing towards the left. "The next road over."
They had to wait for the next gap in the houses, but, when it came, Sif caught sight of another, larger road and it did indeed look to be in bad shape.
"I had wondered why we took so convoluted a route over such small roads," Volstagg commented. "Now I see why."
"'Tis their own fault for allowing it to fall into such a state of disrepair," Sif stated aloud. "They should have to fix it themselves!"
"And deprive Loki of the chance to have us do it?" Volstagg riposted.
"At least 'tis something which actually needs doing," Fandral replied. "And not some vanity project like erecting a statue in Loki's image."
"Do not say that in his presence!" Sif exclaimed. "Or he will wish to do it."
"I only hope my wife was able to learn of where we will be, so I can see my children again," Volstagg said.
If there was a silver lining to the punishment, then 'twas that, Sif knew. Either Loki or the guards had forbidden Volstagg's wife from bringing the children to see their father, so the last her friend had seen of them was when they had first been dragged back to the Iðavöllr from Himinbjörg. It had not been a good last sighting.
When the cart slowed and turned left down a very narrow passage, Sif craned her neck to peer ahead. That they were heading for the road Fandral had spotted earlier was clear, though it looked to be in better repair here. When they came out from between the two buildings onto the larger road, she saw a large stack of cobblestones off to their left, along with an assortment of tools, most of which she did not know the names of, merely that they were things used by the commoners. Speaking of which, two men who were clearly but common laborers stood waiting beside the tools, deep in discussion with an older woman in the deep purple robes of a city councilor. Almost as one, the three turned to look at them.
"Ah, excellent," the lady said, glancing at them before looking over to the head of the guard. "Thank you for bring them out here, Captain."
"Councillor Vör?"
"Aye."
"Were you informed of how the collars work?"
"Prince Vé sent instructions regarding the working, aye," Councillor Vör replied.
"Good, then I shall be off. A few of my men will remain, but if all goes well, there will be but one or two tomorrow."
"I understand, thank you for bringing them, Captain."
"Councillor."
With that, the lead prison guard motioned, and half of his men turned their horses around and left with him, leaving but a handful behind.
"Do not test the seiðr right away," Sif hissed, quietly. "It would be too obvious at present."
"Very well," Fandral sighed, before he leapt down off the back of the cart.
Sif quickly joined him, followed somewhat more reluctantly by both Volstagg and Hogun.
"Have you been told what you will be doing here?" Councillor Vör demanded, a frown crossing her face as she looked at them.
"My Lady," Fandral began, turning on his charm. "I do not believe we have been properly introduced. I am-"
"One of the traitors, aye, I am well aware," Councillor Vör cut him off. "All you need to know about me, is that I am the one who has been placed in command of this particular task of yours."
The cold words left Sif torn. On the one hand, she always loved it when another woman did not fall for Fandral's charm, but her words were harsh and chilling, killing most of her amusement.
"Now, so we are clear, you have been brought here to work, but we are not heartless. You will have access to however much water you desire, and food will be provided at noon," Councillor Vör stated. "There will also be respite breaks and you may use the toilets when necessary. However, you are here to work, and I expect you to do so. If you refuse, I have been instructed in how to make you do so. 'Tis your choice whether I utilize the seiðr to compel your actions."
"We will work," Sif replied, not quite able to believe their good fortune.
Clearly, Councillor Vör had never been in charge of prisoners before. So much the better for them. She felt a little guilt at the trouble Vör would no doubt be in, but it would all be made well once Óðinn awoke and rectified the situation.
"Good," Councillor Vör replied, before she motioned to the two men she had been speaking with. "These are the experts who will be working beside you and informing you on what needs to be done."
Ah, Sif had wondered how they were expected to repair the road, given none of them had ever performed such a menial task before in their lives.
"This will be hard work," the elder of the two men stated. "Harder work than you will ever have done before in your lives."
"Ha!" Volstagg laughed. "You have clearly never been in battle before, if you think such a repetitive task with rest and time for food and toilet breaks is hard work."
"That is oft frantic activity for a short, defined time," the younger said. "This will be sustained work over the course of several days. There is a reason 'tis called backbreaking labor, and why you never see a fat laborer."
While he said it, the man looked down at Volstagg's waist with a sneer. As if he had anything to feel superior about! Sif was certain they were father and son, sharing enough features including an overly large nose which dominated their faces and made their pale, gray eyes almost negligible in comparison. It had been a recurring nightmare of hers as a child; to be stuck for most of her working life with her mother, doing what all of the women in her family had done. Healing. Nay, she had wanted to escape, break free of the cycle and make a true difference and a name for herself.
"I am not fat!" Volstagg protested. "I am well built."
The two men shared a look and Sif could tell they were trying hard not to laugh outright.
"We shall see then, shall we not?" the father asked. "Now, we will commence with this section of the road over here," he indicated to the right. "'Tis not as bad as some sections we will have to work on, but it will provide a good start for you to learn the necessary skills."
With an effort, Sif followed them so she could observe as they explained their first task of the day. They needed to lull both them and their guards into a false sense of security before they could affect their escape. One of the promised breaks would be a good time, if the men would be as lax as Councillor Vör. She merely wished she could easily test the seiðr of the collar, but short of attempting to injure one of the guards or disobeying a direct order, she could not think of a good way to do so, and both of those would alert the guards to the fact the seiðr had failed. Which would defeat the point.
The next two hours were spent either on her knees laying cobblestones just so, or ferrying them from where they had been stacked over to Volstagg, who was laying them along with Hogun.
"Can you think of a way to test the collars?" Sif asked Fandral as they leaned down to collect more cobblestones.
"Discretely? Nay," Fandral replied. "Though..."
"Though what?"
"I suppose you could attempt to deliberately drop a stone on one of the guard's feet," Fandral mussed. "If it works, you can claim 'twas accidental, and thus not a violation of the rules."
"But we will know 'twas deliberate," Sif realized, before she pulled a face. "We are thinking like Loki, are we not?"
"I believe so."
For that alone Sif wished to reject the idea, but she did have a better one and, if there was one thing Loki the slippery snake was good at, 'twas being sneaky.
"Think of it as utilizing his own tactics against him," Fandral offered.
"I like that," Sif replied, rising to her feet once more. "I truly like that."
"Good, now, do you wish to do it, or should I?"
"I will, the guard by Volstagg is closer, thus it will be more believable."
"Very well."
As she walked back with her heavy burden, Sif examined the guard ahead of her. The advantage to what they were here to do was that it meant the road was quite uneven, which would aid them in their ruse. It truly was quite clever of Fandral, even if 'twas no doubt something Loki would have come up with himself or approved of. Still, it did feel good to turn such a tactic against him. Let him see how it felt, though she would always hate him for making her stoop to such depths.
There, that was a conveniently placed raised stone and if she were to stumble over it, she would convincingly drop her burden on the guard's foot. The thought made her want to smile and Sif had to fight to keep the expression from her face. It would not do to give away her plan now, but it felt good, oh so very good, to be able to take control of her fate once more. It had only been a little over a week, but it felt like forever since she had been knocked from her feet in Himinbjörg and first felt the bite of cold steel around her wrists. Thus, to be so close to freedom, and her vengeance, was exhilarating! The first thing she would do once they were safe would be to eat something savory or sweet. She did not truly care what 'twas, so long as 'twas not that horrible, tasteless slop she had been subsiding on lately. It-
With a cool and calm efficiency, Sif found her foot shifting to the left and missing the cobblestone she had intended to stumble over. The sudden unexpectedness of it made her stumble and she did drop her load as she fought for her balance, but right onto her own feet.
