Visitation

by kalimecat

Loki has returned to Asgard and is imprisoned for his crimes. While in prison he has the occasional visitor, will the love of others bring back the fallen prince or is he truly too far gone?

49. Future Visits

A/N: HEEEEEELLLLOOOO READERS! OMG! It has been soooooo long since I've updated and I apologize. I never forgot about you or the story, but between the end of summer (VACATION) and the start of a new school year and the possible changing of jobs the progress on this chapter was slow. I am sorry for that, but I am faithful to my word and do intend to see this story through to the end. As always I thank each and everyone of you for your continued interest in this story. I wouldn't still be writing if it wasn't for each and everyone one of your reviews, favorites and follows! I thank you so much for that!. This chapter was actually a lot of fun to write, but also very hard. It may not be perfect, but I'm pretty pleased with it. I give you all warning that this is a VERY LONG chapter. So brace yourself, get a drink of water, soda, cup of tea snacks and settle in for the ride. As always happy reads and writes. May God bless each and everyone of you. Without further ado:

Chapter 49.

Lady Sigyn Arndottir had made her way from the dragon's bedchamber where she had been summoned and kept and waited upon the fearsome creature many times and served his lustful needs. She knew that the monster didn't truly lust for her. At least she doubted he still did after these centuries had passed, but none the less the creature lusted for power and exacting power over her was just another way of exacting power over the people of Asgard. They could get nothing that they needed without the dragon's demands being met. At first, the dragon had asked physical things of the people. He demanded that they give up their livestock and their crops to have their loved ones spared, their silver and gold and precious jewels for rations of food and soon they were down to giving up their weapons for a day of rest. But eventually the land died and so did the animals and crops became harder and harder to produce, before long it seemed that all the silver and the gold had been taxed and all the precious stones had been dug up from the mountains and the Dark-Elves had forcibly seized all the weapons from the people so that they had no means to fight back against their oppressors. Eventually, the Aesir had nothing left to give, but many needs to still be filled.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" Sigyn pleaded before the large serpent as he kept demanding higher and higher taxes for the most meager and basic of necessities. "Why don't you stop!" she railed against the creature as she sat there along with Queen Frigga powerless and chained to its throne and watching as poor families were down to surrendering the shirts off their backs for a days-worth of cornmeal. "The people have nothing left to give and let you demand more! How can you? How dare you!" she shouted defiantly at the dragon. She took off her sand and hurled it at the scaly head of the creature. She doubted it had even grazed him. She doubted that the callous plates that lined its body felt any more than a person may feel if they flicked a fly from their skin. Still for her small assault upon the dragon's flesh she was met with a battalion of Dark-Elf soldiers all lined up and poised with their blasters and weapons set and aimed directly at her. Normally, such an act should have sent a person cowering and begging for mercy from the reptilian tyrant. She stared up into the cold and calculating snake eyes without fear. In the background she heard Queen Frigga yell out no. To her amazement, the dragon ordered the Dark-Elf soldiers to stand down and lower their weapons. They did so and its long tail slithered its way around her body and wrapped her in tight coils and brought her up toward its ugly face.

A sinister smiled played on the serpent's lips. "Nothing issss free," it hissed. "You can't get sssssssomething for nothing, you know." it insisted.

"They have nothing left so what can they give you?" she continued to demand.

The dragon's gleaming green eyes looked down and the shivering, mud-covered people. Once more a cruel grin came across that old snake's mouth. "You are right, Lady Sssigyn," it confirmed. "They have nothing to give," he admitted.

"Then you will stop this madness?" she asked naïvely, her golden eyes were shining with hope.

"I already told you, that you can't get sssssomething for nothing and sssssomeone must pay," the creature informed her.

Sigyn looked around her eyes still wide and bewildered. "" But who?" she asked.

"You," the dragon informed her as it blew a smoke ring at her lovely, but dirty face.

Sigyn started to cough terribly. Her eyes watered from the thick dragon's smoke. "Me?" she finally managed to stammer out. "Me, but I have nothing," she mumbled.

"Everyone hasss ssssomething they can offer," the monster chuckled. Then he leaned over and his forked tongue tickled her ear and he made his first proposal. "Dance for me before all of the people, right in the town sssquare. Show the people that you are willing to pleasssse me and I sssswear I will give food enough to sssspare." The serpent smiled. "Will you do that for me Ssssigyn?' it inquired further when she did not answer right away. She looked at him with fire in her golden eyes. The answer emanating from the amber pools was a responding no. The beast was not deterred. Its forked tongue immediately darted back out. Silver words poured from the toothy mouth. "Will you do that for them?"

"SIGYN NO!" Queen Frigga yelled out from the corner where she was chained and tethered.

Lady Sigyn's heart pounded as the ultimatum was given. She looked around and saw the starving faces of the men and women and children who had gathered in the throne room to give the shirts off their backs for scraps. It wasn't right. This was the place where the people of Asgard had always come to find wisdom and justice and mercy. It was the place where the all-father ruled and reigned in benevolence, the place where the all-mother presided over court affairs, a place where young princes were trained up and reared as to how to be kings and warriors for their people. Now it was a place of groveling and sniveling and fear, the all-father was dead and the all-mother was chained to a wall and prince Thor was powerless against the monster. The people would not survive much longer at this rate she knew that much. She wasn't going to let them die. Not if there was something she could do about it.

One dance. One dance was simple and a small price to pay to see her people have full bellies. So, she agreed, simply and quickly and the dragon smiled. It all happened so quickly after that. She was dressed and decked out as a most resplendent concubine. Pearls and diamonds and brassieres of gold and see-through silks. Her face was made up with exquisite paints and her hair was pulled back in an ornate style. It was Queen Frigga who helped to array her in the lascivious fashion. "I won't let you go through with it," the wife of Odin had protested all the while she was finding trinkets and pieces of jewelry to adorn her in,

"It has to be done, Your Majesty," Sigyn stated as the queen powdered her cheeks.

"Maybe so," Queen Frigga admitted and she pit the powder puff down. "But it needs to be done by me, I am Asgard's queen, I am the all-mother, it Is I have sworn these sacred duties..."

"No! NO! MAJESTY NO!" Sigyn shot up and roared. "You are Asgard's queen, you are the wife of Odin...you are the all-mother of the entire Nine Realms, it is not befitting for you to be made spectators sport and entertainment for that...that...that...thing," Sigyn's now red painted lips curled in a snarl. "You shall not dance before him and play the harlot," she decreed.

"But Sigyn," Queen Frigga's hands that had wrinkled and aged in a few short years more than they had in many centuries reached up and touched the younger woman on the cheek. "You don't have to do this, either," she insisted.

"It needs to be done," Sigyn replied resolutely. She bowed her head. She fiddled with a ring on her finger. "Someone has to do it."
"It doesn't have to be you, child," the queen told her.

Sigyn shrugged. "Everyone already thinks I am a whore anyway," she admitted.

The royal woman grabbed her hands. "It's not true about you," she declared to her. "It's not true," she told her firmly. "I don't care what anyone says. I don't even care what my own son said," she confirmed. Sigyn gasped. She knew how much the queen had loved her younger son. "You are a virtuous woman," she pronounced over her. "The people of Asgard will know this, this day."

When the queen had finished dressing her, she was led out to the town square. She was guarded by several Dark-Elf warriors. She had gold chains around her wrists which they yanked and tugged as they walked her from the palace gate to the streets. One of the Dark-Elves paraded behind her and walked her on a golden leash with a diamond collar. The dragon flew overhead. The terrible shadow of its wingspan loomed over the city like a heavy cloud and it made the frightened Asgardians try to run for cover like a storm was rolling in. But they could not hide. The Dark-Elves rounded them up and made them to gather in the town square. The dragon took its seat front and center and music played and on command she danced. She danced while chained, she danced sensually and sexually before all the people. Maybe she only danced a few minutes, maybe she danced for a few hours. She thrust her hips and shook and shimmied and twisted and twirled and twined and writhed on the ground for the dragon's sick pleasure. Her clothes hung off of her in a tantalizing manner. Much of her thighs and buttocks and breasts were exposed. She rolled on the ground, crawling and panting like a mangy animal in heat. She danced feverishly until she collapsed. The Dark-Elf soldiers applauded, the hooted and called and demanded and encore. The dragon roared with delight. Out of his mouth lightning burst and split the sky. The people stood horrified and stupefied and not knowing how to respond to what had just taken place. In the end the people were fed and she sobbed on the ground, curled herself into a ball while the people grubbed.

That was the start of it all. Her terrible relationship with the dragon had begun. Every time she had had to perform more and more degrading tasks until she had become nothing more than the serpent's harlot. But she did it so that he people could eat. If they saw her as a sinner or a saint for what she did she didn't know, but she did it.

Soon private dances and in the end, it was not just dancing that he desired from her. The dragon was a shape-shifter. It was able to make many forms. But no matter how handsome he made himself in the bed she never took any pleasure in lying with him. In the beginning she'd cried and sobbed and begged every time, but she cried no longer. But she cried no longer. When the act was done the dragon would allow her to do whatever mercy mission she wished and often she went down to tend Prince Thor's wounds.

This time had been similar, she was going to the dungeon to do just that, but she was somewhat startled when she found that someone else was already in the cell with Prince Thor. Her first thought was that it was one of Malekith's thugs come to torture and torment Asgard's crown prince. It would not be the first time she had found the soldiers making sport of him. She'd not allow it. She saw red. Her hand balled into tight fist and she picked up a brick that was wedged in the mud and held it firmly in her hand and was ready to hurl it in a death blow at elf's head. Her teeth were gritted and her arm was set and reared and ready to strike. She poised and set, but then as she gave the matter a second look she noticed that this person was there to torture and torment and mock their good prince, but rather he seemed to be there to help. Sigyn was wary, help was something that was in short supply in these dark times. But still she managed to lower her hand as she crept closer. She saw the ministrations that the person worked. The touched Thor with tenderness and gentleness. They cared and moved him about gingerly. This disarmed the maiden. She dropped her weapon and watched with a kind of tender curiosity. She watched as the person went from physically binding wounds and pouring oil and wind and ointment on the skin, things that she could have done and would have done for that is exactly what she had come to do to doing the things that she could not. Her mouth hung open as she saw the blue hands move and manipulate the element of water, whipping it around and twirling it and swirling it and making it glow. She could not say that she wasn't impressed, but she had always been impressed easily by such powers. It reminded her of someone. Someone she knew from long ago. Someone that she'd loved once. Then she heard the way he spoke. She couldn't make out all the words. But the things he said were affectionate toward Thor, kind and familial, brotherly. But it was way in which he spoke that was just as intriguing as the love that seemed to be in his words. He had a dignified, regal voice. His words were smooth and proper, silvery. All of a sudden, Sigyn found her heart pounding, her stomach full of butterflies. Her mind started reeling. It was crazy. It was madness to even think such a thing. And yet. She listened further, perhaps it was impolite to pry, but she could not help her natural curiosity. Whoever it was spoke with much emotion, much devotion, they would sometimes whisper and sometimes scream talk hurriedly and then get so choked up they could hardly speak at all. She watched and saw how hard the person was working trying to free Prince Thor from the terrible spell that had been placed upon him, but nothing worked. This seemed to be more concern than an average citizen would have for the prince. Besides there were no mystics left in Asgard. The dragon had gathered them up and sucked them dry of their powers only to increase its own. She held her breath as she watched as saw the person's profile. Ebony hair and keen, elegant features even if they were hidden behind a blue mask. There was no mistaking it. There was no denying who was before her. "Loki."

---

Loki was shocked when he felt Sigyn's bony arms wrap around his torso. She held on to him tight as she could. "Loki," she murmured against his chest. She nuzzled and clung like a child. Loki's body grew rigid immediately, but as he felt her frail body press with longing against his, he found that his posture naturally relaxed. His shoulders rounded and his fists unclenched. She was shivering and crying and the way she had uttered his name was a whimper. "Loki...Loki...Loki!" she blubbered endlessly. His pulse raced, his stomach felt butterflies. Naturally, he wanted to engulf his arms around her. He wanted to wrap her in a strong embrace and shelter her from the cruel dream. His fingers flexed. He was ready to put his arms around her. Slowly, he started to raise them, but then he caught sight of his hands. He made an audible sound of disgust as he gazed at his hands. They were hideous, cobalt blue full of lines and circles and garish etchings. He saw his nails that were long and disgusting and black as night and he recalled how harmful they could be to Aesir flesh. Sigyn's back was completely bare beside the thin straps that held her brazier in place. There was nowhere he could touch her without hurting her. Loki immediately shoved his hands back at his side and then stepped away pulling himself out of her tight hug.

Sigyn's arms were left empty, her mouth left agape. Her eyes were wide and screaming. "Loki?" she muttered once more, completely in astonishment. Her eyes had such dark circles under them that it looked like she had lost some type of street fight. The light in the cell was small and artificial, it was light that Loki had provided himself, still it was enough light for him to make out how pale her skin had become. It was always bronzed as if she'd been lying in the sun for days, now it looked like she had not seen the light of day in years. She was skinny, her clavicle was easy to notice, her cheek bones poked out, her ribs protruded. Her hair was dirty, thinner and much shorter. Loki swallowed the thick lump that had formed in his throat. He was glad he hadn't touched her. Every part of her tiny body was marred with scars and bruises, brush burns, cuts and scrapes. Her hands reached out to him as if she was trying to catch him and keep him from drifting away. Her hands were bony and calloused, her nails broken. "Loki?" she called once more as her voice shook.

He tried to take another step back. His foot had barely pushed off of the ground when she continued to pursue him. "Loki...Loki...Loki," his name desperately continued to tumble from her lips. "Loki, oh my goodness! Oh, my goodness!" she cried. "You are alive! You are alive!" she exclaimed. A beautiful smile overcame her chapped lips. She clasped her hands together. Liquid leaked from her eyes. "Is it really true? Are you alive?" she asked as she stepped closer and closer toward him. Her trembling hand reached up to touch Loki's frozen cheek.

"Don't touch me," Loki declared to her as he took a step away once more.

Lady Sigyn was baffled. Her pretty golden eyes blinked in confusion. "Loki?" she asked quietly. "It's...it's me," she pointed out. "L-l-lady Sigyn," she explained to him as she pointed to herself. "Don't you recognize me?" she asked as she stared into flaming eyes.

"I'm not this Loki," he stated.

She shook her head. "What are you talking about? Have you forgotten who you are?"

"No, I haven't forgotten who I am, I am just not the person who you speak of," he informed her stoically. Loki was amazed. How was it that of all people Sigyn was the one who recognized him? He had seen Heimdal, but that was to be expected that the old seer would know who he was, but still Heimdal was blind he had not seen him, surely if he would have seen him in the horrible form he would not have thought of him as he did. No one did. Not Sif, a woman who he had grown up with every day of his life, she couldn't see who he was under the skin like an iceberg and eyes like fire. Not Prime Minister Audric a man who he considered an elder and a mentor, a man who he hoped he could have one day respectfully have granted the title father to. But he had sat in the man's face, shared a meal with and he could not see pass the blue skin that coated his body. His own mother, the person who he suspected had loved him more than any other had seen him and she had recognized him, but she could not truly believe it was him. Even when he begged with her and pleaded with her, she could see him as no more than an apparition. Thor wasn't even able to tell who he really was. But Sigyn knew him. Simple Sigyn. It seemed impossible, but it was true, she saw right through his outward appearance.

"But you have to be!" Sigyn said firmly. "You simply have to be. I know it's you! I know it's you," she declared and reached out to touch him once more. Loki backed away, but Sigyn's hands grabbed at his tunic. She pulled herself up close to him. She felt the fabric between her fingers. "He had a tunic just like this," she remembered. She remembered the silky fabric and the grooves in the buttons from the many times in haste she had undressed him. She hadn't felt such fine quality material in a long time.

"They make more than one of the same pieces of clothing," the Frost Giant explained with a dismissive shrug.

"Not his," she practically hissed as she clenched the clothing into a tight fist. "He had a personal tailor and seamstress, always custom made," she explained. She pulled herself closer to him. She breathed in deeply and took in his scent. "You smell like him," she went on. Her lips parted. She was ready to say more. Like how he spoke like him and stood like him, but before another word could be uttered from her stammering Loki reacted. He jerked his tunic from her fingers. "You sound like him," she admitted. She closed her eyes for just a moment. "I loved the sound of his voice," she informed the Frost Giant. "He always talked slow and calmly and he spoke so well. He sounded so smart when he talked that hearing him made me feel smart too," she smiled

"Do I look like him?" he fumed as he looked at his hands that were painted blue and studied the skin on his hands that was icy and hard and full of wicked carvings. He looked at his fingernails that were long and black like some animal. It seemed such a far cry from the polished prince he had once been. Sigyn then too looked at him. Her big, bright gold eyes took in the sight of him. Perhaps it was her quietness, her hesitation, the way she looked at him while worrying her pink lips and furrowing her brow that caused him so much anger. Instantly, he started bearing his teeth he growled, then snapped, "Do I? Do I?" he demanded

Sigyn started shaking, she put her finger to her lips her eyes darted all around. Instantly, the Jotun felt bad for the fear he had caused in the young woman. The young woman who had given so much of herself to keep Asgard from being an ancient culture that was simply wiped off of the map of existence. "Sigyn, I'm sorry," Loki immediately recovered. He reached out his hands to her, but she recoiled. He tucked his fingers back in toward his palm. He didn't know if she shied away from his touch, because of is nasty temper or because she was finally seeing him for what he was, a frostbitten Jotun that could never belong. He frowned. He wanted to run and hide out of shame. He was ashamed of how he had treated her and ashamed of who he was. "I'm a Frost Giant don't you see," he went on to explain to her. "Whoever you thought I was I'm not. I'm just a monster," he confessed. He turned around, turned back to look at Thor's slumbering form in the cell. He couldn't watch her eyes lace over with hate toward him.

Sigyn stood there, frozen for a moment. He had scared her. His teeth were sharp and his nails were long and his eyes were red as a blood moon. But after all she'd been through, after all she'd seen at the hands of Lord Malekith and the dragon, he didn't seem quite so threatening or imposing. She found her tongue clinging for dear life to the roof of her mouth. She found a way to get it to work again. "Y-y-yes," she finally stammered.

Her word's stung. Loki's shoulders arched and then hunched. "Yes, I am a monster...I...know...I"

"No," Sigyn chuckled softly, her bare feet padded gently toward him. "That's not what I meant," she went on. Her hand cupped his shoulder and she turned him around face her.

His expression was somber and downcast. "I...I...I" he fumbled. His vermilion eyes were unable to even meet her gaze.

She looked down too. Played with her fingers like a little girl and stared at her toes. "I only meant that...that...that yes you do look like him," she breathed.

Loki's head snapped up. His mouth was gaping. His bleeding eyes were wide with confusion. "What? How can you...?"

"I see him there..."

"No," Loki refuted. "Look at me," he pounded on his chest. "Open your eyes woman!" he demanded.

"I am, Loki," she whispered. "I see you," she muttered. "I see the same man I knew many centuries ago. I see him in the cut of your jaw," she reported. She raised a trembling finger to try and trace his jawline.

"Sigyn don't!" Loki warned as he watched her battered finger inching closer and closer to his cheek. She didn't heed his warning. She kept pressing closer and closer until her skin contacted his. Loki jerked and Sigyn gasped as the frostbite took effect. She squeezed her eyes closed fighting off the stem of the pain. She bit her lip and allowed her finger to linger there and feel the beautiful, chiseled cut of his jawline. She traced it til she couldn't stand the cold anymore. She pulled her hands away and panted and cried. Tears trickled down her dirty cheeks. "Sigyn, what have you done to yourself?" Loki asked in horror. "You can't touch me!" he warned her. "I'll hurt you," he muttered and looked down. Sigyn was still gasping and clutching her finger. He could hear her huffing and taking deep breaths as she tried to control her pain. Loki looked up. His bright red eyes were wide. "Oh Sigyn, I'm so sorry," he apologized. His long blue fingers reached out toward her, though he'd dare not touch her. "I can heal it," Loki said in earnest.

Sigyn mashed her lips together, she shook her head. "It's barely a scratch," she confirmed as she showed him the tip of her finger. It was red and purple, but the frostbite was just a simple nip and not severe. Sigyn smiled and continued to massage the finger on the sides of her skirt and soon it started to look less frostbitten.

Loki accepted the young Aesir maiden's words, but he didn't return her smile. he stared down at his own hands as if they were ghastly monstrosities. "Look," he said abruptly, "I hope now you can see, that whoever you thought I was, I'm simply not, alright," Loki stated firmly. He turned on his heels and started to walk away. All of a sudden, Loki felt a strong yank on part of his ripped sleeve. "Sigyn, stop!" Loki ordered. His voice was infuriated and tense. "This is foolishness!" He snapped at her and ripped his sleeve from her hold. Lady Sigyn wasn't deterred. She didn't let go. She clung tightly to his sleeve and held a ripped off piece in her hand.

"Loki please," Sigyn begged as she held his ripped sleeve.

"Sigyn, enough!" the Frost Giant yelled. He grabbed a fistful of his black hair. "Whoever it was that you knew died! Just like you said. They fell into the Void and that's all they wrote about that person. He's gone! He's no more!" He explained. "And I'm not him!" He shouted in her face. Sigyn cringed and fell back. She took a step away like she was frightened. Her eyes shined and she looked like a little girl who was about to cry. Loki wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms hold her and comfort her and apologize for everything that he'd ever done to hurt her. Then he reminded himself that all this was supposed to just be a dream and that all Sigyn's beauty and desperation and tenderness was just his own imagination. He continued to turn away. It was better this way. The sooner he got out of this dungeon the sooner he could work his way through this dream and escape it and bring himself back to reality. A reality where dawn was swiftly approaching. A reality where he would be Asgard's undisputed king. And Asgard wouldn't be some desolate wasteland filled with a people that lived like cockroaches. It would be glorious. They'd see. They'd all see. Wouldn't they. Loki hated the wounded look that he had left Sigyn with. He didn't want that to be his last vision of her, but he kept telling himself it was better this way.

"I know it's you Loki!" Sigyn's soprano voice rang out through the empty dungeon. "I know you because of the sound of your voice! I know it's you because of the look in your eyes," she continued to call. She paused and her hands dropped to her side. "They may be red as Hel's fire, Loki, but I still see the wisdom and tenderness in them..."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Loki finally said dismissively and with exasperation. He flagged her off.

Her features pinched into a vicious frown. Her golden brows knit together. "I know it's you!" she persisted, "By the way you walk and talk and the way you were in there speaking with Prince Thor," Sigyn continued to declare. She pounded a fist into the palm of her hand. "Why do you continue to deny it?" she begged in bewilderment. "Why are you denying who you are?" she asked and grabbed her head. Hot, fresh tears ran down her dirty cheeks.

Loki wiped an icy hand over his face. "I'm not denying it, woman. I simply am not the person who you think I am," he said once more. He said it as calmly and as coldly as he could. He rebuffed her. "Now if you will excuse me dear lady, I am in some haste to leave this place," he huffed.

"L-leave?" Lady Sigyn sputtered. She looked down, her eyes darted back and forth in confusion. "Leave?" she muttered to herself. "But you can't! You can't just leave us like this!" she insisted. "You can't! You simply can't!" she proclaimed furiously as she stamped her little bare foot and threw the ripped off part of Loki's sleeve to the ground.

The Frost Giant bit his lip to keep it from quivering. "Watch me," he whispered to her and proceeded to try to walk past her.

He took a few steps in front of her. He walked slowly and confidently, but rigidly. He walked past her like she wasn't standing right there, crying in front of him. He seemed so cold and so very far from her reach that for a moment Sigyn faltered in her resolute stance. She started to question whether this Jotun was actually Loki. A frown took over her pink lips. This couldn't be him. Could it? It looked like him and it sounded like Loki, but it couldn't be Loki. Loki wouldn't see their need, he wouldn't see their utter desperation and just simply turn his back on them all and say ever so haughtily that he was "in some haste." Sigyn sneered as she replayed the arrogant words of the Jotun in her mind. They were dying, starving, being held prisoner under heavy captivity. They were broken fragments of the mighty realm they had once been. Dry bones. The Nine Realms had descended into nothing but chaos all the great kingdoms had fallen some realms had been wiped out completely. Some of the realms had lost half of their populations in a blink of an eye. Jotunheim was no more and the Norns who had already been a remote and ancient people were thought to have been defeated leaving no one left to touch fate and rewrite the stars. Midgard was literally under control of the merciless, Mad Titan, Thanos who had set the wicked dragon up as the regent over Asgard. And yet this man claimed to be in some haste. Sigyn seethed. In some haste to go where? Did he truly think that there was somewhere that he could go to escape this terror? If he did he was sadly mistaken. There was no escape.

Sigyn was about to let the stranger walk off. Let him go. Let him make his due haste. Her face contorted and twisted as she thought of his smug attitude and cold indifference to their suffering. He could make all the haste that he wanted, but it would do him no good. She'd never known anybody to leave Bedlam. The Dark-Elves kept the city heavily patrolled and most Aesir who had need to travel for the elfin overlords had to get special papers. A Jotun wouldn't make it far. There were few settlements outside the maid city of Bedlam. The farmlands were empty and dead and had appropriately been named the Badlands. He wouldn't get far. Sigyn watched him with a glare. But let him go. He couldn't be Loki. He couldn't be Odin's own son and Thor's brother. He couldn't be a prince of Asgard and the beloved child of Queen Frigga. He simply couldn't be. Prince Loki wouldn't have turned his back on his people. He wouldn't have run away. He would have done something. He would have used his incredible mind, he would have used his powers and fought to free them. He would have at least tried to save them all just as Thor had done. Even if he would have failed he would have given his last breath to save Asgard. She just knew he would have. Because he loved Asgard and he loved his friends and family. That she knew. She remembered saying such things to one of the other women who the dragon had taken prisoner within the palace. The young woman just laughed at her as the polished the dragon's gleaming golden claws while the beast slept. The woman rejected the notion she thought of the second prince of Asgard as a trickster and therefore a coward and she doubted that he would have even raised a finger against the dragon, but she had never known Prince Loki. Sigyn knew him...at least at one point she had thought that she'd known him and she had known that Loki was always looking for the opportunity to prove himself and to show how strong he really was. If the opportunity arose and he was alive he would have seized it. Not just casually have been walking way like this Frost Giant.

Sigyn sighed. Her shoulders slumped as she allowed herself one last look. Perhaps she was the same foolish girl that she had always been. The same girl who was lost in dreams and fantasy and unable to see the blaring realities that had always presented themselves flatly in front of her face. After all she had concocted in her own head a narrative where in which Loki loved her and that it seemed had never been true. Now she dreamed of Loki coming to save her like a white knight in a storybook. She had wished and hoped and prayed for so long. Perhaps now she was just giving into hallucinations, she'd suffered so much, seen so much horror, was it so hard to believe that after 200 years her mind would start playing tricks on her?

The Frost Giant had continued to walk on by and Sigyn had almost convinced herself that he was just some stranger like he said he was. But then she recalled the conversation that had just happened. She replayed every word and re-watched every gesture that had crossed his frozen face. Sigyn gasped as the truth dawned on her once again! Immediately, her eyes widened. She turned around and stared at the tall, thin, blue skinned man walk away from her. She rushed after him. Her feet slapped and splashed through the mud and sludge that made up the dungeon floor. When she reached him, she grabbed on to his coattails and on to his tunics. "No! No! You can't go!" she protested. Her voice was ragged and big tears tumbled down her cheeks. Loki turned around and looked at her. Her face was hot and flustered and wet with the liquid from her eyes that had smudged her dirty make up. Her breathing was labored. "You can't go! You just can't go! You can't abandon us like that, Loki, you just can't!" she was practically screaming in his face.

Loki rolled his eyes. He wanted to reach out his hands and grip her, take her firmly by the shoulders and shake. Then he looked at her. He saw how frail she had become, how many injuries she had already suffered. He recalled the one that was by his hand. He'd dare not harm her again. "By the Norns, woman I am not this Loki whom you speak of!" he insisted once more. He snatched his coattails from her feverish fingernails that clutched the fabric of his tunic with the tenacity of an eagle's talons.

He ripped his tunic from her and her hands were left empty and gaping. All of a sudden, they started trembling, shaking, they were scratched and weathers and scarred and hardened beyond belief. She clenched her hands into tight fists and tried to stop her hands from shaking uncontrollably. He was her last hope. He was Asgard's last hope. She couldn't simply let him slip through her fingers. "The Norns are dead!" she spat. "The King of the Norn's head now sits on a spike in the dragon's bedchamber," she informed him and there was a staunch hardened look in Sigyn's eyes. It was one like he had never seen before. He had known Sigyn for hundreds and hundreds of years and in all that time he had never known her eyes to be hard, cold maybe he'd even describe them as cynical. She'd seen too much, heard too much, been through too much hell to ever go back to being the gentle, naïve, girlish, light-hearted maiden that she had once been. She couldn't go back. Her innocence was gone. And he couldn't help, but feel that the weight of that was on him. If he continued down this dark path than this is what would become of Sigyn. Granted, there was something attractive about this Sigyn, she was strong and confident and bold, but yet and still he longed for the bubbly blonde he had once thought nothing of bedding so many seasons ago.

Sigyn's words dawned on Loki. He felt his stomach fall to his feet. The Nornish King was a time keeper. He had a treasure trove a wealth of knowledge that was only held and kept by the fates. If he was dead than Thanos had surely gotten access to the trove and had no doubt located all of the Infinity Stones. If that was the case than Thanos was invincible now. Loki told himself that there was nothing more he could do. He shook his head as he pictured the Nornish King, he was wizened, merry soul. He had spent much time in the company of the Norns and had tutored the Nornish King's youngest daughter Princess Wyr. Wyr. The child who had been his student. She'd held a schoolgirl's crush on him and he'd come to think of her as a little sister. She was dead too? She couldn't have been more than a youth. He started to say something.

Lady Sigyn cut him off. "You can't swear by them anymore," she spat.

"Then by the Branches of Yggdrasil..." Loki started once more. He was all the more irritated. He gritted his teeth and batted his eye lashes over his vermilion eyes trying to fight back the tears at the thought of the demise of the beloved royal family that he had once known so well.

"The Branches of Yggdrasil are severed!" Sigyn shouted back. "It is only a broken, bent and gnarled trunk now, "she persisted. "So, you must try again if you think that you can swear by that to prove that you are telling the truth," Sigyn shot back.

Loki turned his head from her for a moment. He cracked his icy knuckles. His breathing became shallow. His eyes darted back and forth looking at the sides and corners of cells. He was a master liar, a master trickster. He had started wars and caused peace all with a flick of his silver tongue and now...now he was unable to shake Sigyn. Sigyn! Sigyn, of all people. Simpleminded Sigyn. It was unbelievable. Loki spun back and looked at her. He put his hand to his temples and forehead and started to massage the throbbing areas. Her stubbornness was starting to give him a headache. "By Odin's beard..." he swore bitterly.

"No, not even by Odin's beard," Lady Sigyn said. Her voice became quiet and sorrowful. She dropped her gaze. She closed her eyes and whispered a few words and gave homage to her fallen king. "Even the all-father has fallen," she admitted. She looked back at the Jotun with watery eyes. She shook her head. "Our king defended us mightily as he could, but even he could not prevail against that vicious and wily, wicked, old serpent who make's himself a lord over us," she explained.

"I'm sorry," Loki quickly replied.

"There is no one left," Sigyn insisted. "There is no hope left," she muttered miserably. "Save you, Loki" she uttered with a breath as she looked up at him hopefully.

The Frost Giant shook his head. His long, dark tendrils fell in his eyes. "I'm not a hope for you at all," his tone was nervous. He took a step back. "I'm not the person you think I am. I'm not the person that you want me to be," he muttered. He dropped his head, "I'm sorry."

"LOKI!" Sigyn shrieked grabbing he dirty hair. "Please!" she begged reaching her hands out to take hold of him once more.

The Jotun dodge her desperate fingers. "My goodness woman! What must I do to convince you that I am not this man?" he threw up his hands in exasperation.

"There is nothing that you can do to convince me, Loki," Lady Sigyn reported slowly and gently and there was smile on her face that was soft and silky.

"What?' Loki muttered with his voice shaking.

"I Know it's you," Sigyn said still smiling and nodded like a child who knew an adult joke.

"How?" Loki finally asked.

"Because you knew how Loki died...and I never said..."

The Frost Giant's dark red eyes widened. His mouth dropped opened. "I...I...I..." Loki's tongue sputtered and fumbled. "I...I... I heard it... from..." the trickster tried to think of a lie. Yet his tongue was stammering helplessly like a nervous child. His brain seemed to be rushing in every direction trying to find some lie to grab a hold to. "I heard It from the towns people," he finally managed. He knew that for such a simple answer it had honestly taken him far too long to think of it. Even a simpleminded maiden like Sigyn would see through that. Had his skin not been made of ice, Loki was sure that there would have been a bead of sweat trickling from his ink black hair.

"Loki it's you! IT is you! Just admit it," She said with a smile on her face. She clapped her hands together and snapped her fingers.

Loki finally let out an exasperated breath. He ran blue fingers through licorice hair. He turned to face the walk. He placed another hand on his chest. He felt the spot where his heart should have been to see if he could feel the feverish thumping, but alas he felt nothing. His stomach was tangled in knots. His breath started coming out in ragged, rapid puffs and huffs. He felt woozy. He finally placed his hands on the dirty slime slick walls. He pressed his forehead closer and closer to the wall. His eyes darted back and forth. He couldn't think of the last time he'd been caught in a lie. Perhaps when he was a very small boy, that time when he'd tried to convince Thor that he didn't fancy anyone, in Thanos' lair. Loki felt the thick black blood of a Frost Giant freeze within his veins. There had been no lying to that monster and that had been the scariest thing of all. He had many powers, but the art of deception had always been his greatest strength and Thanos had robbed him of that. Stripped him like a babe and made him helpless. He hated Thanos for that and feared him as well. Now, Sigyn had done the same thing. Loki could scarcely breathe. Only this didn't make him feel afraid. It made him feel vulnerable, but in the best way.

Lady Sigyn timidly stepped closer to Loki. She started to put her hand on his shoulder. She recoiled her fingers for a moment just before they were about to brush against the smooth rich fabric of his surcoat. She paused and thought about it. She saw the way Loki's shoulders quivered. She put her finger to her lip. She reached out her hand once more. "Loki?" she questioned in a breathy voice as her hand scarcely skimmed his shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" Loki hissed as he shrugged his shoulder away and hugged himself

Sigyn sucked in a sharp breath. She tucked her hand back in. She opened her mouth and started to speak, but quickly snapped it back shut when Loki finally turned around to face her. She dropped her head like a shamefaced little girl. She forced herself to look back up. His eyes were brimming with unshed tears. She watched as one flowed from his bright red eye. Loki hissed as the tears stung his frozen skin. "Is it you?" she whispered her voice so low he could barely hear it.

The Jotun nodded his head. He wiped the hot tears from his eyes and rubbed under his nose. "Yes, yes, yes," he spoke exasperatedly, "Yes, it is," he announced as he allowed his body to slide down the wall and on to the floor. He covered his blue face with his hands.

Sigyn squealed just before she slid to the floor next to him. She flung her arms around him once more. Somehow, she managed to simply touch the clothed parts of his body. Loki was startled and unwilling, but Sigyn's hug was persistent. She kept holding him, squeezing him, pulling him tighter and tighter toward her. For a little while he continued to try to resist. He squirmed like a kitten. But Sigyn's embrace remained firm. She clung to him for dear life. Finally, Loki could fight it no longer. Her arms were strong, they held him with a tremendous ferocity and conveyed so much warmth and affection and yet as they shook he could feel her great feel and her desperate need for protection. "Oh, Loki...Loki...Loki...Loki," she muttered as tears erupted from her amber eyes. "I knew it was you. I knew it was you!" she muttered her face pressed against his shoulder. "I knew that you weren't dead...I...I...I could just never believe," she went on. "I loved you so much...I could just never believe..." she sniffled as she looked up at him. "At least I tried not to believe..." she redoubled her statement. "I tried not to believe, but it was so many centuries..." she shook her head. Her golden eyes still shined as she stared at him. "I watched so much destruction for so long..." she sighed. "I almost lost hope, Loki. I did...I almost did, but I kept praying...I kept believing. Every day, I cried out to our ancestors and to the Fates to no let us be destroyed. For so long those prayers seemed unheard. I asked if we could receive a miracle someone to be our champion, our deliverer," she wiped the tears from her eyes. "But in my wildest dreams, I never could imagine that they would have sent us you!" a broad smile spread across her face. "Oh Loki, it's you! It really is you isn't it? I don't know how this happened! I don't know how it could be. How did you get back to Asgard after all this time? Where have you been?" she questioned enthusiastically. The Frost Giant only was able to shake his head in reply. "Oh, it doesn't matter. Never mind. I suppose that's the whole point of a miracle isn't it? It is simply something that cannot be explained." Sigyn stated. "It doesn't matter how you came to be here. All that matters is that you are here! You are here! You are here to save us!" she tugged on his clothing giddily, like a little girl. "Praises be!" she said as she clasped her hands together and looked up. Soon she was raising her hands. "Thank you! Thank you!" she said in a joyful whisper. She turned back to face Loki. "What of your mother? Has she seen you? Oh, Loki I must take you to her. She must know. She must know that you are here and alive and well. She was never the same after your death. None of us were. But now you're here!" Sigyn exclaimed. Her golden eyes were large and round and she looked at him with wonder and adoration. Loki's look was that of puzzlement. How could she look at a disgusting creature like him with love in her eyes? "Mmm," she hummed excitedly. She seemed barely able to control herself. "At last! At long last," she sighed. She lifted her hand. She wanted to clasp Loki's cheek. She wanted to run her fingers through his jet-black hair and she wanted to pull him close and take him by his velvet collar and taste his frozen lips. Her cheeks flushed as she tried to control her brazen instincts. She shook her head, her long blonde curls fell in her face and Lady Sigyn was glad for that fact as it allowed the redness of her cheeks to be concealed. "Come! Come!" she called as she sprang to her feet. "We must find the queen!"

"Sigyn, wait!" Loki called behind her. The young handmaiden immediately frozen in her tracks and spun back around to face him. Loki slowly rose to his feet. "I've already seen mother," He admitted.

"Oh, my goodness! Oh, my gracious!" Sigyn exclaimed. "What did she say? She must have been through the roof! She's missed you so much. I can't imagine..."

"She didn't even know me," Loki finally confessed.

"What...what no, no." Sigyn shook her head. "Loki that can't be a mother...a mother never forgets her child," she stated to him.

"Very well then, she recognized me, but she didn't believe it was the real me. She didn't believe I was really alive..."

"You have no idea what she has been through. What we have all been through. We've all suffered so much...but Queen Frigga... well maybe she has suffered most of all. She always thought of you...I...I...I know..."

Loki looked down. He smiled and nodded. "Yes, she has many visions. Visions of me. Visions of times before...she has seen me come to her as a babe, as a child, a youth and a man, but never has she seen me come forth as a monster," Loki's voice turned dark and cold.

"No!" Sigyn shouted. "No, Loki," she placed a hand on her his shoulder. "It's not you. It has nothing to do with what you look like," she expressed. "Our queen, your mother...her mind...her mind is weaker, but she fights, fights to maintain her sanity for our people. And you, you... visions of you... your visitations to her in any form even if they were just her own imaginations, they have kept her sane for this long for this long. You must believe me," Sigyn's eyes searched his. "You cannot doubt that. You do not doubt that, do you?" she pressed. Loki didn't answer right away and a panic rose up in the blonde-haired Aesir woman. She clutched his arm just a little bit tighter. "Don't you believe?" she asked in earnest. "Her voice quivered. "Oh Loki, you must believe. I will take you to her. I will tell...her I will make her know that you are real. That you are her real son come back to her. Given back to her from the dead," Sigyn promised as tears stung her eyes.

"Her sanity hangs by a thread at best," Loki said curtly as he shook his head.

Sigyn threw her hands in the air. "Can you fault her for that? Can you expect much better? Think of the devastation that she has had to witness," Sigyn explained.

"Thor didn't know me either," Loki said as he let out a bitter laugh that sounded more like a cough.

"No! No, please. Please try to understand," she implored him. "You can plainly see how much Thor has suffered. His mind was lost. He knew nothing... "she shook her head miserable. "He was just puppet and pawn for the dragon. He held his mind prisoner. Once he regains his strength and his wit he will recognize you once more."

The Frost Giant allowed a lopsided smile to grace his lips. "Thor never had that much wit about him in general," he smirked.

Lady Sigyn gasped. Then a soft smile replaced her shock. "Such a remark only the king's own brother would be allowed to get away with saying, "she shook her head.

"He almost knew it was me," Loki paused and thought. He looked down, cracked his knuckles and his thin, icy lips twisted into a scowl. "But when he caught a glimpse of this hideous form, he knew better." Loki turned from facing her for a moment.

"You're not hideous."

"You're too kind, Lady Sigyn," Loki remarked but the sound of his tone was less than flattered. He mocked her as he gave a tight bow at the waist. Immediately he stood back up to his full height. It certainly wasn't the imposing stature that Frost Giants were supposed to possess, but he towered over Lady Sigyn nonetheless. "But you, Sigyn, you knew me," he said slowly as he turned himself back around looked at her quizzically. "How?"

SIgyn shrugged. "I already told you how. I recognized you. I recognized everything about you, but your tenderness toward your brother was all the proof that I needed," She rounded her shoulders and smiled up at him once more. "Come," she extended her hand. "We will go to your mother, together. She will see who you are. She will believe you are alive and she will rejoice and then we will make great preparations for how you shall save us from the dragon!"

Loki shook his head. "Sigyn, please, I cannot save you," Loki argued.

"Whaa?" Sigyn stammered out in disbelief. She stumbled backward and placed her hand over her head. "What? What are you saying?"
Loki looked at her coldly and hardly. "I'm not here to save you, Sigyn. I can't. I'm sorry" he admitted as his dark red eyes looked downward.

"Loki, no" Sigyn shook her head in denial. "What are you talking about? That is why you are here. That is what the fates have ordained. You have to save us! You are the only one who can!" she practically shrieked.

"No! No," Loki grabbed his ears and shook his head. "I have to get out of her. I have to wake up," he protested. He pinched his skin. He pinched himself repeatedly, he pinched himself harder and harder until his dark black nails were digging into his icy blue skin and he drew midnight blood from his veins. Sigyn watched as a trail of oozy, black liquid in a single strand trailed down the side of his arm.

"Loki," she whispered in shock.

"WAKE UP!" Loki screamed furiously at himself. "Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" he continued to yell until he was almost hoarse.

"Loki!" Sigyn shouted back. Her soprano voice interrupted his own desperate yelling. She gripped him by the shoulder and started to shake him.

"No!" the Frost Giant declared as he ripped away from her grip once more. "You're not real," he insisted. His breathing was ragged.

"Of course, I am. I know... I know...I know it's hard to believe, but this...this is really Asgard," she expressed.

"No, no it's not...no, it's not," Loki muttered to himself his hands cupping his ears. "This is just a dream," he said trying to encourage and sooth himself. He began to pace around in a circle and he rubbed his palms together.

"Loki," Sigyn called as she chased him round about in a circle. "Stop," she ordered and to her surprise he actually listened to her. "Look around you," she stated as she stretched out her arms. "This is no dream...it...it is a nightmare, but it's the worst kind of nightmare. It's an actual living hell," Sigyn expressed.

"No, No," Loki mumbled. He started to pace about even more furiously. "This isn't real. This isn't real!" he echoed shaking his head.

"Loki!" Sigyn called as she chased after him round and round in a circle. "Loki what is the matter with you?" she demanded.

"No, no," he wagged his head. "This isn't real, you aren't real," he continued to mutter.

"Not, real?" Sigyn gasped. "Loki look at me! Loki snapped to attention. He halted in his tracks. His red eyes were wild and frantic. His mouth hung open and he was panting as if he had run a marathon. "Loki, I know... I know... this is hard to believe...it's hard to see, but this is real," Sigyn insisted. " And so, I am." she expressed as she gripped him by his sleeve. "I don't know by what design you have been sent back to us," she breathed as she slowly closed her eyes. "But I know you were sent here to save us!'

"Sigyn, no," Loki quickly yanked his sleeve away from Sigyn's firm grip. Her ragged nails snagged one of the strings. "I can't...I can't...I can't. I have to get out of here," He said urgently. His eyes looking around. "I have to get back to Asgard."

"Loki," her eyes tried to follow his. "Asgard is no more there is only Bedlam, now. If you ever want to see Asgard again than you..."

"Have to leave...I Have to get out of here." Loki muttered as he rubbed his palms together.

"And go where?" Sigyn asked as she threw up her hands in the air. "There is nowhere else to go! Most of the realms are crumbling just like Asgard. You won't find refuge or safety there."

"No, no," Loki wagged his finger in Sigyn's face. "You'll see it'll be better. It'll be grand. It'll be glorious..."

"Yes, Loki it will be when you rise up and defeat that monster!" Sigyn encouraged. "You can bring us back. You can take Asgard back to being a pillar of culture and learning once more, I know you can,"

"I can't fight him, Sigyn," Loki looked down. "I can't fight Thanos. I'm not strong enough. I won't win. He'll destroy me...he'll kill me...or worse," he gulped
"But...but...but Thanos is on Midgard..." Sigyn pointed out

"And if he thinks that I've risen against him, that I'm not obeying his orders to the letter, he'll come here. He'll come here and find me," Loki nibbled on his finger nail. "The Other warned me of this..." Loki reminded himself. He repeated The Other's words to the tee even mocking his gravely, creepy voice. "They'll be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he cannot find you," Loki felt the familiar shiver run down his spine, but he bit his tongue and shut off his mind before he finished repeating the warning that The Other had given him.

"Loki, please. I...I...I...I don't understand...that is... I mean, you've been away so long... how how do you even know of that madman Thanos?" the young Aesir maiden with sunlit hair and golden eyes asked him.

"When I was in the Void," Loki began. His voice was very hushed. "we became well acquainted," he finished. Sigyn wanted to inquire as to what all of this meant. She had been convinced that Loki died and truth be told she wasn't so sure that he hadn't. Their lore had always taught that in the great and terrible day when Ragnarök befell the Nine Realms that a great army of the warriors of the past would rise up and fight with the living people of Asgard. Sigyn thought Loki the first of many who would come back to stand with them. Was this Thanos also some creature released from the clutches of Helheim? How could she have ever thought that he wasn't? That's all he acted like. Before Sigyn could ask any more questions or formulate another thought, Loki's ramblings broke into her mind. "No, no," he told himself. He grabbed at his head as if it ached fiercely. "I have to go, I can't stay this isn't real. I have to go!" he scolded himself.

All of a sudden, the Jotun was on the move. He took long determined strides and moved quickly the sludgy dungeon. "What?" Sigyn was left gaping and confused by his sudden exit. "Go! Loki, no!" she called after him. "We need you. You have to fight, you have to try, please" She started to sob. "We've all suffered so much, we can't survive much longer," she wept.

"And if Thanos comes here and finds disobedience in me he'll wipe us all out!" Loki shouted back at her.

"So, you're just going to abandon us?" Sigyn asked as she started to hyperventilate. Her tears ran like a flood down her face. "After...after what they did to your brother...your mother..." she paused. She tried to catch her breath by inhaling deeply. "After what he did..to me," her eyes lowered as did her voice. She looked down at her wrists they were cut and scarred and burned and shackled.
The Jotun followed her eyes. He saw the deep wounds and gashes that had been inflicted by the dragon's terrible claws. How the color had left her cheeks and how the light had left her eyes. How he'd broken her and left her less merry and jovial than she had been before. Loki quickly turned from her. He balled his hands into tight fist. It was his fault and guilt consumed him. "You have no idea what I suffered at the hands of that animal," she expressed her voice low. She didn't bring her eyes to look up at him. She rubbed her palms slowly over the lacerations in her arms. "The shame I felt," she murmured. "Every time it touched me," she shivered and held her shoulders. "How base it all was," she finally brought her eyes to look up, but still not at him. She stared up at the ceiling from which mold and mud had gathered and collected and formed rusted formations. "The things I had to do were disgusting!" she spat and her lip curled. "I felt so cheap," she reported as she pulled on the golden choke that she wore around her neck and pointed to the earring that had been placed in her nose. Slave symbols. "I wanted to die," she whispered. With each word he felt his pulse began to race. His blood was boiled at the thought of the terrible things that that monster had done to Sigyn. How could she have simply become a concubine to that creature. It was despicable and unthinkable. Loki grabbed his head and his stomach. She was so gentle. So loving and beautiful. How could anyone ever harm her? Why would anyone harm her and use her in such vile and unspeakable manners? He gritted his teeth and twisted his foot into the mud. It was all he could do to keep from screaming. All of a sudden, a terrible rush of heat surged through his Jotun body. It was like fire rushing through his veins and in his marrow. Loki let out a pained gasp. He clenched his teeth and despite his best efforts hot tears bubbled out of his crimson colored irises and the tore down his cheeks scalding his icy flesh. He stumbled and ended up slumped against the wall. Lady Sigyn immediately rushed to his side. She flung herself next to him. Her hand stretched out to steady him, but Loki waved her off

Loki raised a shaky blue palm. "No, Sigyn please, don't tell me anymore," Loki said breathlessly. His blood raced through so hard, that soon he felt faint.

Perhaps Lady Sigyn did not hear him, perhaps she did. Either way she kept talking. "I thought of ending it all once," she confessed. "It's...it's...it's just been so bad," she started. She was shaking her head and the tears quickly rolled down her face.

The Frost Giant heard her sniffling and sobbing. "Sigyn please...please, don't cry," he implored. His own body was in so much pain as he endured the sensation of being engulfed in flames. It took all that was within him to keep from striping out of his tunics and running to plunge himself into a pool. His eyes rolled in the back of his head.

"I tried to be strong," she informed him.

"You have been strong... so strong and brave and wonderful. You've endured too much," he explained. A lesser woman would have cracked. Lesser women already had. Lady Sif who was indeed the roughest and toughest and certainly the feistiest woman he had ever met was completely undone by the things that at happened to her. It had destroyed her. Loki felt sorry for that. He felt responsible for her sad state. His own mother, the Queen of Asgard, All-Mother to the Nine Realms, a woman whose strength, wisdom and power were rivaled by none, a woman who had depended on all his life even she was slipping and succumbing to accept her sorry plight. But Sigyn, simpleminded, gullible little Sigyn was still standing and still fighting.

"I've tried to be strong for...for...for...for...Asgard," she hiccuped.

"You have been...you have been so strong. If...I...I would have...if I would have been here..." Loki swallowed thickly. The feeling of heat rushing all over made him feel as if he would pass out. There should have been someone. There should have been someone who could have been a champion for lady Sigyn, who wouldn't have let her honor be so impugned and let her body be so sullied. There should have been someone to fight and defend her. Her father, or a kinsman or the warriors of Asgard who swore to protect all the inhabitants or those who had claimed to have fallen for the beautiful woman's charms. "I...I...I wouldn't have let that happen to you, I swear Sigyn,"

"Oh, Loki...Oh Loki," Sigyn squealed. She shimmied next to the wall and snuggled against him. She was careful not to allow her skin to come in contact with his icy flesh, but she could see that he was in much discomfort. She didn't her best to provide him some relief and some ease from his aches. Gingerly, she lowered her dirty fingers to pat his head. Her hands delicately played with his sweat soaked black tendrils. Loki leaned into her touch. He closed his eyes. "I knew you would, my love. You would have defended my honor, been my champion," she practically swooned.

"Yes," Loki muttered lazily through half-lidded eyes. "But it's is too late for all of that now," he stated and tried to rally himself.

"Too late?" Sigyn's pink lips quirked. Her hand stopped stroking his head.

"I can't fight him, Sigyn, but I can promise you a better life in a different Asgard," Loki sat up. "Just help me Sigyn," Loki pleaded. "Help me, my little Sigyn. Help me get away from here. Help me find a flying skiff and get to the dragon's passageway and I promise that you and mother and Thor will live a life of peace. Just please help me," he entreated her.

"Loki," Sigyn shook her head. "I didn't endure all that I've endured, nor did your mother or Thor so that we can run away like dogs with our tails between our legs. We have fought this long to see Asgard free. We have waited for a champion for this long. We've held out for a hero and that hero is you, my love" she proclaimed as she held fast to his pants leg.

The trickster sat up as he did so, Lady Sigyn slid off of him. He shook his head. "Sigyn, don't be so naïve, come come," Loki groaned. "If all of the armies of Asgard couldn't defeat it and Thor and Mjolnir couldn't defeat the dragon, what chance do I have?" Loki asked as he leaned his head on the slime slick stone.

"Loki," Lady Sigyn spoke tenderly. "You and Thor have a chance. You have a great chance! Thor has never fought the same since he thought that you were dead. He was still mighty in battle of course, but not the same. He couldn't wield the hammer with the same strength. He missed you so...it broke his heart to lose you, but now. Now that you have returned to us...to him. I'm sure together, the two of you...well there is nothing that you two couldn't do," she encouraged with her lovely smile.

"Thor cannot fight Sigyn, he is too weak and I surely can't face the dragon alone," Loki refuted.

"Loki you have to! You are the only one who can," she insisted. "You are a true son of Odin..."

"I'm not a true son of Odin," the Frost Giant mumbled low under his breath. So low that the Aesir maiden could not hear him.

"You are a rightful heir to the throne. That's why it's you," she said with delight in her tone. Her eyes were wide and hopeful. "That's why it has to be you! That monster murdered our king, enslaved our queen and imprisoned our prince. He thought he destroyed the line of leadership and he set himself up as king, but now you can challenge him. You can defeat him!" she cheered.

"No one can, Sigyn," Loki shook around. "Look around he's too powerful. No, there's nothing that can be done. All I can do is try to take you and mother and Thor away from here..."

"NO!" Sigyn said jumping back. "I can't believe what I am hearing," she shook her head. her features pinched. "Are you truly such a coward? Is that really what you are? Like everyone has always said. You would just turn and run?"

"There's no fighting this, Sigyn," Loki said with a sigh, "I'm sorry," Loki shrugged in defeat as he slid down to the floor and closed his eyes. "Perhaps I am a coward, but sometimes we have to do cowardly things to survive. After all you've been through I'd think you'd understand that," he stated firmly.

"I never chose the path of a coward," Sigyn pointed out as she stuck out her chin. "No coward will ever know the glory and reward that is Valhalla," she quoted old verses.

"I was never going to know the glory of Valhalla anyway," the Frost Giant muttered. "I'm sorry, little Sigyn,"

"No," Sigyn's voice rippled with anger. "I am!" she spat as she looked down at him with disgust. At the sound of her disgruntled tone, Loki's blazing eyes snapped open to look at her. "I have been believing! Wishing! Praying!" she confessed as she pounded her breast. "That...that...that some deliverance would come for us. And the kings of the past sent us you," She pointed accusingly at him. "And you...you you are too cowardish to even fight! For shame! Our people live in squalor like rats!"

"I know!" Loki blasted back. "Don't you think all this pain and devastation tortures me inside?"

"But only enough for you to run away, not enough for you to fight for us?" she asked and her eyes met his and they didn't flinch. "You are our prince. How can you not defend us?" she questioned. Loki didn't answer. "Loki, please, I loved you. You were my hero. I believed that you were my noble white knight and that you would come charging in on white stallion to slay all fiery beast," she implored him. "Please, please, please" she dropped to her knees and begged him.

"Sigyn, please stop," Loki insisted shaking his blue hands.

"I will not stop!" Lady Sigyn protested. "I've done everything I could to keep the Aesir people alive. I've given my body, my blood, my sweat and tears. I've spent days and nights longing and hoping that our salvation would come from somewhere and finally now the fates and the all-fathers have seen fit to grant my petition through you and you are just going to run away?" she asked in astonishment. "Well no! No!" Sigyn declared as she took a firm hold of his sleeve. She pulled him in one direction. "I won't let you runaway. You can't just leave us to die! I know you can save us, please. You can save us, Loki you only have to have the courage to try!"

"My powers are nothing compared to his," Loki stated. "It would take an army and Asgard doesn't have an army any more. I can't be done," Loki refuted. He simply shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

"I will send word. I will send a secret message to the people when they come to collect their rations. When they know that a son of Odin has returned when they see you fighting they will rally behind you. Then they will fight. All they need is a leader a king. An army needs a king," Sigyn explained nodding her blonde-haired head vigorously.

"And what are they to fight with? They have no weapons," Loki laughed off her ideas.

"We'll fight with sticks and stones if we have to, Loki, you'll see," a hopeful smile spread wide across her face. "Won't you lead us?"

For a moment Loki thought about Lady Sigyn's words. He could feel something rising up deep with in him. Something a kin to courage. The desire to protect and defend his people. Then all at once the desire was twisted. It was snuffed out and he thought of how he had to get back to Asgard. His moment was at hand. He couldn't let it pass him by. "Sigyn," the Frost Giant sighed.

"We are a strong people, Loki. You know that just as well as I. We just need to be reminded of our strength and our power once more. We've lost everything. We've lost our way, we've lost our culture and we've lost our essence, but seeing you...seeing you fight will remind us once more," she encouraged.

Loki turned away from her. "Sigyn, there's nothing more I can do. Not here I have to get back to my home. I can't waste any more time here. The only way I can protect you is if you come with me. Come with me, Sigyn," Loki said in earnest. He wanted to take her in his arms. Her body seemed so frail. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and let her lean on him. He wanted to take her by the hand and lead her away from this place that was plagued by pestilence. He wanted to rub his hand over her flesh and soothe away the bruises and wounds that had been inflicted upon her. He chided himself and reminded himself that his touch could scar her still. He reminded himself even more that all that he was seeing before him wasn't real. No matter how real she looked and felt and smelt.

Lady Sigyn stared into his fiery pupils. She had always been taught that to look into a Frost Giant's eyes could turn a person to ice. But Loki's eyes weren't icy, cold and calculating they were just eyes that proved to be in turmoil. They begged and pleaded with her to understand the terrible position that she was placing him in by asking him to stay and fight, but she could not let him off the hook nor could she capitulate to his request for them to flee together. She'd dreamed of escape so often, but it wasn't just running away to let others take the fall. "I can't do that, Loki" Sigyn said and this time it was she who turned away from him. "You think you can just leave us behind and pretend like you never saw the things that you saw," she said nodding to herself. "You think that there is somewhere you can go where this is not happening?" she questioned. "But I tell you there is nowhere. There is no escape. No matter where you go the effects of Ragnarök will find you. You can't run from it. It will catch up to you, Loki. If we don't stop the dragon and his master Thanos, then even the very halls of Valhalla won't be safe from its wrath." She looked up and hugged herself tightly. "It'll come there too!" she warned she turned around and pointed an accusatory finger at Loki. "And that's just what Malekith wants to see everything lost to darkness and he'll get it! He'll get it too! Mark my words," she prophesied. She marched toward him, her dirty finger aimed at his nose. "And it will be your fault!" she snapped. "It'll be all your fault because you chose the path of the coward!"

Loki's Adam's apple was bobbing in his throat. He took a step back as he felt condemned by Sigyn's words. She berated him like he was a child and each word stung and placed weight upon his shoulders and his heart. The weight was too heavy to bear. He had to get it off of him or it would squash him underfoot, smother him to death. "That's just fine!" he snapped back. Something about the way he barked and blustered with his flaming eyes and vicious white teeth gleaming made the golden-haired maiden shrink back. "That's just fine with me, do you hear, Sigyn?"
"So you really are a coward just like everyone said?" Sigyn asked in shocked. She covered her mouth and closed her eyes and allowed tears to slide down her cheeks.

Loki chuckled, "You bet I am, because cowards live to tell the tale, heroes die fighting," he informed her.

Sigyn's crying grew more intense. "Every day, I dreamed of what you would do if you returned to us. I dreamed of how you'd fight for us. How you'd champion us. Champion me!" Sigyn pointed out as she pounded on her chest. "I thought you'd take me in your arms and hold me and protect me defend me and when the battle was won make love to me like a man possessed," Sigyn expressed looking up at him with eyes brimming with tears. "But no," Her voice grew harsh. "You're not a man! You're not a warrior! You're not even an Aesir You're not even an Aesir!" she said looking at him with repulsion.

"Finally, now you see."

"It has nothing to do with what you look like...it has to do with who you are on the inside. You aren't noble or brave or virtuous at all," she shook her head and spat.

"No, I'm not," the Frost Giant declared proudly as he held his head up high.

Sigyn's eyes though they glistened with tears burrowed deep into Loki's flaming red pupils. She sniffled and tried to stop herself from crying, but no matter what the tears just wouldn't stop flowing. "You aren't who I thought you were," she said as she swallowed deeply. She was choked up and shaking. Her whole face was red. "I...I...I thought you were the man who I could give my life to. I thought you were my hero," she admitted her voice breaking as she looked down at her bare feet that were covered with the sludge of the dirty dungeon. "But you're not," her head shot up and she stared back at him defiantly. "You're not my hero, you're not Asgard's hero," she ground out. "You're not worthy of her!" Sigyn declared as she pointed above her at the ceiling. "You're not worthy to be called her prince!" she said even louder. The tears washed down her grungy cheeks. "You're not a prince at all!" she exclaimed. The look on her face was positively stricken. She took a step back from him as if she was scared of what she beheld. "You don't deserve to be called a son of Odin!" She yelled in his face as she pointed at him.

Loki's lip was twisted and curled as he endured her harsh criticism. He bowed his head lower and lower conceding to every blow she struck him with. His eyes were closed and his hands clenched into tighter and tighter fist with every word she spoke. "Fine then!" Loki exploded. He threw his hands in the air. "You're right. You're right! YOU'RE RIGHT! I'm not a son of Odin! Not at all! Not in the least. I've said it now! I've said it now, alright," he growled. "Alright...alright...alright," Loki breathed. He ran his cold, blue fingers through his ebony black hair. He rubbed his hands together vigorously. He paced about. His features quirked before he looked back up at her. His vermillion eyes were wild. "I'm not a noble prince, I'm not a brave warrior, I'm not a good brother, I'm not a good son or lover!" he blurted out all too quickly. His eyes flickered for a moment. His face crumpled. He swallowed deeply. He had meant to say that word in reference to Lady Dagmar, but when his eyes met with Sigyn's his head was instantly filled with hundreds of memories of the two of them. How he'd gone through the motions, played around and pretended and used her. He thought of his own disconnect at the intimacy that they'd shared. His disregard for the fact that she'd come to him untouched. He thought of the way she'd tried to please him and how in the heated moments he'd thought so little of it. He'd rebuffed her and spurned her and slandered her and lied on her and in the moment, he'd had no remorse or regret from his cruel course of action. Then he thought of all the kindness that she had shown him. He didn't deserve her kindness. Of all people she should have cast him aside and laughed at his calamity, yet she'd done the exact opposite. She'd cared for him like he was a child, bound his wounds, nursed him back to health. She'd been his truest friend. He shook his head jarring himself from the pain of those memories. He'd never deserved him. "Oh, Sigyn," Loki's voice cracked. Hot tears slid from his crimson eyes and rolled down his icy cheek. The scalded and burned and melted his icy flesh. He reached out toward her with a shaky cobalt hand aimed to caress her dirty cheek. Before his black-ice nails could even scarcely dream of skimming her muddied flesh, Sigyn yanked her head back.

"Don't you dare touch me!" She spat at him. Her voice rang raw and ragged from her throat. After her scream she was breathless. "I believed in you!" she sobbed into her hands. "I was counting on you, Loki," she told him. "I don't even know why I ever believed in you," She glowered at him. "You're an unimaginable bastard, do you know that?" she asked him. He didn't answer. Her stood there. Stiff and emotionless. "You're...you're...you're...a...a...a" she pointed. Her puckered chapped lip quivered fiercely. She raised an accusatory finger once more toward his icicle of a nose. She thumbed her own nose at him.

"Go on..." he paused. "Go on say it," Loki prompted her. He'd heard it from everyone's lips but hers, but he needed to hear her say it. He needed her to say it to make it real. He needed her to make it official. Then he could simply say to Helheim with them all. He could say. He could say it, then couldn't he? After all it was simply just a dream. Maybe that was the part of the dream that he needed to get to in order to wake up. Every dream had that point. All along he'd been thinking that he'd have to have some daring escape to bring himself back to reality, but maybe all he needed were the magic words to remind him who and what he really was. "Go on! Go on!" he taunted her a smirk that was impish and manipulative was splayed across his ice-blue lips. "Say it!" he tempted.

He could feel waves of anger rolling off of Sigyn. She was at a boiling point. She was like a geyser about to explode and he wanted to be there for the eruption. He wanted to take the brunt of her fury and let it ripple and ride over him only to fuel his own bitterness all the more. While his face displayed the most twisted and sinister of smirks. Sigyn's face was furious. They were caught in a stalemate. They were staring at one another teary golden eye to gleaming crimson eye. They were face to face. His painted with fiendish glee and her's stricken with righteous fury. Loki was a patient man. No one could ever say that he wasn't. He waited and waited with baited breath. Finally, Lady Sigyn became uncomfortable with the deafening silence that echoed between them. She blinked, her head dropped her dirty tendrils fell in her face. "You're just a coward, Loki, you're a damned coward," she confessed quietly. "Men, women and children have all suffered. The Nine Realms have all suffered. We've been lying wait, hoping and praying believing that there was hope for us and then Fate plays a kind hand and sends us you, you and you should be the one to save us, but you're too cowardish, too selfish to even bother to try!" she ranted at him her hands balled in fists as she shook her head vigorously. Her tangled mess of blonde hair slapped her in the face as she did so. Loki sputtered. His quick, silver tongue became heavy and laden in his mouth as he tried to form the words to explain himself. Had he actually been able to formulate words it wouldn't have matter, Sigyn was pushed far beyond the point of listening to his excuses.

"So, go on!" Her voice grew stronger and she flicked her hand at him like he was some troubling pest. "Go! Go on! Go! GET!" she roared furiously. "GO!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. Her shrill voice was enough to wake the dead. It caused an echo to bounce off the forgotten walls in the dungeons. She balled up her tiny hands into tight fist and she rammed them at his chest and pushed him back. Loki lost his balance. The mud was slick and slippery. Blue fingers reached back to grab for the wall, but the wall was wet with slime. His fingers found no friction and nothing to latch onto. He fell into the nasty sludge. His legs slipping out from under him. His feet flew up in the air. His arms were flailed as he found himself splayed out flat on his back in a puddle of thick, soupy, brown water. From his back his red eyes stared up at her. "I wish I'd never known you!" she ground out. She stepped closer. Her bare feet making their way through the sludge. She raised her foot and sat it on his chest and held him down. And Loki squirmed and squiggled like a bug beneath her heel as the slime saturated through his clothing. It squished and soaked him to the bone in the most uncomfortable way. Loki imagined all the nasty vermin that must have infested the stagnate sludge all which were hungry and would have easily attached themselves to his skin to suck him dry. He cringed. Sigyn dug the heel of her foot deeper into Loki's chest. He let out a gasp.

"Go back to from whence you came!" she ordered as she glared down at him. "Jotunheim or Helheim for all I care!" Her voice was low and menacing. Fury was in her eyes. Her beautiful golden eyes possessed no light, all warmth and tenderness had faded from them. They were hard as stone. There was so much anger laced in her eyes. Anger enough to kill. Loki's eyes widened, he felt a twinge of fear flicker through his soul. He could easily have pushed Sigyn off of him, but that would have required that he touch her and his touch would hurt her. She'd been hurt too much by him already. Loki started to whisper words that could have pushed her off from on top of him, but just as he was going to raise his hands and use wind pressure to force her back all of the anger, frustration and venom drained from her features. "You're not Loki," she admitted. Her head was bowed as she slowly removed her foot from resting on his chest. She placed it gently back into the mud. Loki coughed and gasped and massaged his chest. "You're not him at all!" she whispered. Her head still downcast. "Prince Loki would have saved us," she told herself as she looked in the face of the Frost Giant. His features were so familiar one moment and then they were completely and utterly foreign the next. "I don't know why I thought..." her voice broke and tears dripped down her chin. "the man I loved would have saved me and his mother and brother, he would have avenged his dead father," she said nodding. "but you're not him," her crying broke into astonished chuckling. "Look at you," she pointed at the blue skinned creature. Loki attempted to sit up. "You simply can't be him," she muttered. "Look at you..." she gestured toward him. "You're a Frost Giant!" she pointed out as she laughed. She slapped herself playfully in the head as if it had just dawned on her. "so just go!" she spat as she looked down on the Frost Giant who sat in a puddle of slime. "We...the real people of Asgard...we'll rise up...we'll fight," she confirmed. She nodded deeply. "That's what we do," she testified. "And you're not one of us," she stated. "So, get out of here!" she yelled. "Go! Run away, you coward! Leave us for dead," she snarled. Sigyn kicked the dirty water in his face and then walked away.

She walked away swiftly. With each step she moved a little faster and with each tear that spilled from her amber eyes her crying grew harder. Soon Sigyn was running from his presence and she was full on sobbing as she fled. Loki managed to climb to his feet. He was completely covered in filth. He shook himself like a dog, but still the slime remained. "Sigyn!" he called after her. "Sigyn!" his voice rang out in the midst of the silence. Sigyn didn't turn around. She just kept running. She bolted away from him like she was running for her life. Soon she was nothing but a golden speck in the distance.

---

Red eyes watched as the Aesir woman's form became nothing but blackness and lost in the bleak atmosphere of the dungeon. His heart was pounding. His mouth was dry but his flesh felt feverish and he felt his foot lifting off the ground. His blue body was ready to dart after her. His frozen fingers were reaching out into the darkness, his could practically feel Sigyn's soft skin. He wanted to take hold of her, grab her, wrap her in a tight embrace and drag her far away from this hellish place. Her name was on the tip of his silver tongue. But Loki resisted to urge to shout her moniker once again. He clapped his blue lips shut. He swallowed. He breathed deeply through his chiseled icicle nose. "It's only a dream," he told himself. All the while he was starting to believe it less and less. Loki's eyes popped back open. He was desperate to wake back up. He pinched his frosty flesh, but only managed to pinch off a piece of ice, it did nothing to rouse him.

Knowing that he needed to expedite his escape from this vicious nightmare. Loki quickly teleported himself from the dank, dismal underground prison to the cargo-bay. The cargo-bay held Asgard's entire fleet of war ships and an arsenal of weapons. Loki was prepared to turn himself invisible as soon as he reached the ship holding. He arrived right in front of the door that lead to the cargo-bay, but when he arrived in the holding chamber of the ships he found no patrols or guards. He turned about. He checked every side. Surely such a valuable place wouldn't be left unguarded, but low and behold it was. It was obvious that neither Malekith or the dragon that sat upon Asgard's throne had any fear of resistance or escape from the Asgardians. Loki sighed. Why hadn't his Sigyn thought to escape or at least mother? There were certainly enough vessels that they could have rounded up a significant portion of Asgard's population and made a run for it. "Run where?" a small voice that seemed to come from the back of his mind questioned. Loki froze as the voice reared its head again. He recognized the voice, but he hadn't heard it in so long. He thought that it was gone. "How can they run away from Ragnarök?" the voice asked calmly. Loki bit his lip to keep from giving a verbal response to the tone with no manifest. The voice was small and weak, but it made him feel like a child with a schoolteacher standing over his desk waiting to hear the right answer. Loki simply reminded himself that this all was no more than a dream and, in a dream, things didn't make perfect sense. Yes, it was a dream, a strange weird, nonsensical hallucination from his overwrought mind. It was a nightmare which he was desperate to wake from and he would wake from soon enough.

The enchanter forced himself to stop questioning things and just to be grateful that this part seemed to be easy. A battle between himself and a battalion of Dark-Elves could have taken too long. He didn't have time for that. He had to wake. He had to face his destiny and become king of Asgard. Their neglect was an ample ally for him. Loki nodded and smiled he straightened his shoulders proudly. His smile quickly faded. His beady, red eyes narrowed. He looked around. He knew that Malekith was a cautious man and he could not expect that the Dark-elf general would never send any of his guards to make rounds in the cargo-bay. He knew he had to make some haste.

Loki slipped and slunk around the ships. He looked and inspected the vessels. Most were large Dark-Elf mother ships. It would be impossible to slip one of those giant, mechanical monsters out of the cargo-bay without being noticed. He had already experienced that when he and Thor tried to escape the Imperial City to get to the Dark-World. They scarcely made it out alive. He didn't need a repeat of that. He had planned on something much smaller anyway. A longboat or skiff would serve his purpose nicely. For a moment Loki was worried. He didn't see any. Had the Dark-Elves destroyed all things that the Aesir had made? No surely, they hadn't. They simply couldn't. The Dark-Elves couldn't take those big mother-ships around the city of Bedlam. He kept searching. He ran about and darted all through the large holding. He was sure that there must have been at least 70 motherships. He looked all around. Behind and underneath sheets and crates. But he saw none of the Aesir vessels. Loki felt something in his chest freeze and then crack. It didn't necessarily hurt. He supposed he had no heart to break, but the feeling certainly wasn't comfortable. Everything of their culture was slowly being wiped out and eliminated. Owning and operating a solar skiff had always been a right-of-passage for Aesir youth. They had courses at the academy that taught young students how to drive one and even he and Thor although they both had fine chariots and thoroughbred horses to get around the city on they both had desired to have solar-skiffs to sail around the city in.

The Frost Giant pressed pass his memories. He concentrated and thought long and hard. He remembered that in the motherships there were smaller vessels. Tiny body like ships. That the Dark-Elves used when they launched their attacks. Perhaps he could fly out in one of those? Loki snapped his finger as the plan dawned on him. He just had to get inside one of the larger motherships. He held his face and massaged his pointer finger over his lip.

Loki walked over to the ship closest to him and attempted to study it. He placed his hand on the ship. The metal was hard, thick like layers and layers of metal had been laid over and twined together. It was stronger than steel and tougher than iron. He wouldn't be able to break into the ship. Beside trying to break into the would just create noise and bring a crowd. There were panels in place on the outside on the hatch-door area of the ship. Loki swiped his hand over the panel. Upon detecting movement, the panel lit up and flashed lettering in the extinct language of the Dark-Elves on the screen. Loki made a rough translation to surmise that it was asking for some type of passcode. Then it showed several symbols that seemed to be numbers Loki smiled as he remembered a trick that he had learned a long time ago. It was a simple trick that he had read about as a boy when he was first starting to learn mysticism. It was called the Magnifying Eye. This bit of enchantment could allow him to see things that were unable to be seen by the naked eyes. It could temporarily give him x-ray vision or allow him to see things that were infinitesimal like finger prints. The smirk deepened on the Frost Giants face. His eyes glowed as he scanned the panel. He was able to note which buttons had been pressed the most and thereby he was able to crack the code and open the hatch door.

The hatch-door open with a hiss and fizzle kind of sound. Smoke and steam leaked out of the side of the hatch door. It had a hot and putrid smell as it came forth and Loki pinched his nose as the gas oozed out. The black door opened slowly It creaked and squeaked as its mouth parted like a draw bridge. It made a thud when it hit the ground. Loki jumped scared that the loud would draw the attention of some of the Dark-Elf soldiers. Loki held his breath. His hand was set on the hit of one of his daggers. His teeth were clenched and her turned toward the hanger doors ready to face off with an enemy. Loki had to let out a pent-up sigh of relief as he found no one was coming. He supposed that thud hadn't truly been that loud. Perhaps it had just sounded loud to his ears in the silence of the room. He reckoned that one hatch doo opening was not loud enough to be hear through the hangar doors.

Slightly more relaxed, Loki looked around to check that the coast was clear once more before he snuck inside the hideous t-shaped Dark-Elf spaceship. Inside the design was dark and grotesque, ugly and gnarled and shaped in a Gothic form. Everything was colored black and dark browns and burnt reds. Loki stepped softly across the metal planks of the ship. Loki had always been stealthy and light on his feet like a cat, but with every step he took the metal tiles on the ships floor lit up with an electrifying red color Loki flinched a few times as a reflexive reaction to seeing the sensors go off. He thrust his back against the wall and practically leaped out of his skin and into the air. He hovered there for a moment and held his breath as he waited for some type of alarm to sound. Loki hovered. He floated weightlessly toward the roof of the ship until he found that the alarm wasn't going off. Loki exhaled and swiped his hand across his brow. It seemed to be just a part of the ships design to have the floor-boards light up. Loki flapped his arms downward with grace and lowered himself back to floor. He proceeded to cross the floor and make his way to the back of the ship. Finally, he saw what he was looking for. He saw the fighter pods snuggly tugged into neat little compartments. "Bingo," Loki muttered as he rubbed his hands together.

The Dark-Elf aircrafts were made for combat. They were fighter style, sleek, maneuverable, heavily armed and built for speed. They were an impressive piece of machinery. Loki wasn't looking to fight his way out though. He wanted to slip out of Bedlam as quickly as possible and undetected. He suspected that it would not be a suspicious sight for the Aesir or the Dark-Elves to see such a craft floating overhead. Loki carefully approached one of the kamikaze fighters. It was elegant in it design and far more aesthetically pleasing than the mothership that held it. It was a polished bronze color. In his younger years he would have enjoyed building a model of such a fine craft.

The Frost Giant studied the aircraft. It had a tight and compact design and there didn't seem to be a door or entrance point. His red eyes narrowed. He scratched his chin as he continued to inspect the vessel. He stepped around the sides looking for any point of entry. Finally, he found what he was looking for. The plexiglass windows seemed to have some type of slit inside the roof. Loki's blue lips made a frown. It certainly was a troublesome thing to get into. It seemed as though he would have to climb to top of the rounded, dome-shaped plexiglass window open it up and shimmy on down into the control panel. Loki followed suit and did just that.

Upon touch, the plexiglass hatch opening dissolved for a moment and made a rounded hole that would allow a single pilot entry at once. Loki hopped down into the cockpit of the vessel. There was certainly room inside the craft for two but it was more comfortable for one. There was no seat and a single console in the center of the cockpit from which Loki imagined he was supposed to operate the ship. It seemed to operate on some type of computer system. The system was sophisticated, but complex not like the technology of Asgard. "How hard can it be?' Loki said to himself with a shrug. He had always been an excellent pilot after all. The Frost Giant stood up tall and squared his shoulders then cracked his knuckles and prepared to see if he could get the engines to fire up.

He placed his hand gentle on the center of the console where there was a rolling ball that seemed to be used for steering. When his hand contacted the console it immediately lit up. He chuckled. If Thor would have only let him fly when they were trying to escape from the palace. They could have cut their time in half. The controls lit up with bright electric blue and bright red lights. The ball which he had been fiddling with underneath his fingers had symbols and notches upon it. "It's a compass," Loki expressed. He oriented himself with how to use the compass. He would move the ball to where the arrow was facing certain coordinates and he could feel the ship lurch forward or to the sides or backward. It only took slight movements to move the craft. A screen flashed before his eyes on the plexiglass. It too showed some of the vehicle's capabilities. Loki could only roughly translate some of the Dark-Elf's written language. It resembled less of the language of their Light-Elf cousin's than did the verbal language. Still the shrewd enchanter thought that he was understanding enough. The ship had tracking and targeting, heat seeking and stealth capabilities. It could also generate a small shield. Nothing that could withstand heavy fire of course like that of catapult or torpedo blast, but it certainly take on a few shots from a quick blaster. It also had scanners that could detect weak points in buildings and shields. "I'm impressed," the Jotun admitted to himself as he folded his arms across his chest. It was quite easy to see how with these type of ships in their arsenal that the forces of Svartalfheim had been able to overthrow so many cities. Even one as strongly fortified as the Imperial City of Asgard.

"Alright," Loki muttered to himself as he pushed a few dials and turned a few knobs and tried to set things correctly for his departure on the screen. "Let's see if this works," he whispered prayerfully. With that he fired up the engines. The gears seemed to grind and the motors let out a deep hum. The ship lurched forward, it rocked and knocked against its holding compartment. The braces and locks that seemed to be set to hold the ship in place seemed to let go and relinquish the vessel. Loki felt the ship rise up. He tried to steady it, to keep it from knocking about in the chamber. He held the helm steady. He moved the steering ball slowly and just allowed the ship to float out of the mothership's open mouth hatch doors.

Loki had to turn the steering ball very quickly to keep the rudder of the ship from scraping the floor of the hangar-bay. It clanked against the floor just once. The noise was loud and Loki was sure that any more of such bumps and knocking about would have surely called for an investigation from some guards. Loki's quick turns caused the rudder of the ship to spin about wildly. The rudder flipped to the right and nearly knocked into one of the other mother ships. Loki gasped and feverishly tried to turn it the other way. The rudder rotates over the cockpit several times and then flipped into another warship. The slight bump threw the small fighter vessel off balance sending it careening into another one the big ships. Loki panicked immediately flipping and rotating the steering ball. The rudder flipped over and over and again over the cockpit. Loki tried to get control. He grabbed at the controls and held fast, but the quick jolt to stop the movement so instantly sent the small fighter ship hurling up into the ceiling and then crashing to the floor with loud bangs and clangs that were loud enough to rival Thor's thunder. It also sent the motherships knocking into one another. The banged and roared as the cracked and crashed against one another.

Loki found himself thrown about the cockpit. His blue body was sprawled out on the floor and he hit his head on the baseboard of one of the panels. He groaned as he massaged his offended temples. He crawled to his knees and then quickly sprang to his feet. He looked about wildly and nervously. He had left quite a mess in his wake. The motherships were large, gruesome, imposing, statuesque and foreboding T-shaped crafts and now about ten of them had toppled into one another like dominoes. "This isn't good," The Frost Giant muttered to himself as he observed his damages. He looked at his screen. It was blinking with violent red light. Loki groaned. And slammed his head against the console. It hurt his palm. "Goodness!" he moaned. "Now you tell me!" Loki shouted at the ship. "You're just not going to make this easy are you," he grumbled to himself. "Of course, I pick the ship that's already partially busted," he muttered once again he slammed his hand on the sides of the cockpit walls.

The mage didn't have time to complain about his rotten luck in choosing a vessel that had a corrupted steering system. Nor did he have the time to go back and try to find another fighter. For just then he could hear the pounding feet of what he was sure was at least a dozen dark-Elf soldiers ready to descent upon the hangar to see what had happened. He heard them shouting in the guttural tongue the Dark-Elves. "Come on! Come on! Come on!" Loki said in haste as he gingerly pushed the buttons. This equipment was sensitive. "C'mon, we've got to get out of here" he mouthed. "Let's go!" he said as he swiveled the steering ball around and got the ship slightly airborne once more.

The pounding footsteps grew louder outside of the hanger bay. Loki feverishly rolled the orb and tried to get the fighter ship to right itself. His eyes grew wide as he watched the hangar doors slowly open. He could hear the Dark-Elf shoulders shouting on the outside of the door. "Hurry up!"

"Get that door open!"

"What was that in there?"

"Let's go! Let's go!" Loki ground out he was practically pleading with the vehicle. There his vehicle sat like a sitting duck in the midst of all the rubble. "C'mon," he gritted and strained as he pulled on leavers and turned dials trying to do anything to get the ship operational once more. The door was halfway opened and some of the soldiers were starting to crawl underneath the slowly rising door. Just then the motor hummed. The lights flickered and flashed inside the cockpit. The targeting and navigation systems were once more visible. "Yes!" the enchanter sighed with relief. He had no time to truly celebrate though. The Dark-Elves were crawling in like roaches. "We gotta get out of here," Loki muttered, but he couldn't just move the ship right before their eyes. Loki put both hands on the consoles. He closed his eyes and concentrated heavily. Slowly Loki's body started to disappear and so did the ship.

"What in Svartalfheim happened here?" asked one soldier upon observing the damages to the motherships and other war vessels.

"Captain! Captain!" the guard called to another in a more elaborate uniform. He pointed to the mass destruction before his eyes. Ships that could stand erect, tall as skyscrapers had toppled over like dominoes one into the other and were now left broken and mangles and some where even sparing and others were leaking oils and gases. Smoke was starting to rise up.

"How could this have happened?' the captain of the guard yelled. 'It looks like there has been some type of attack here," he expressed angrily from behind his expressionless mask.

"But sir there could have been no attack. There is no one too attack," another soldier countered while chuckling.

"Half of our armada has been sabotaged!" The captain of the guard fumed. "Look at this!" he yelled in their faces! Motherships and carriers and frigates all destroyed! You can't tell me that was an accident."

"Captain, it's impossible to think that any of the Aesir could have done it. We haven't had any sign of rebellion in years and those that work in the palace are quite submissive there is no way..." the Dark-Elves words were caught in his throat as he became choked by the thick smoke.

"Wait," one soldier spoke up clapping his hands on the shoulders of the other guards around him. "I heard that there were strange happenings in the barracks earlier today," he went on to tell his captain what had been reported to them. He started to cough.

"I want this whole hangar searched!" the captain demanded. He hauled out and smacked one of the guards clear upside the head. He knocked the soldier down on the ground. "Search every square inch of this hangar!" he yelled all the more. "There is strange mischief about and I want to know who or what is causing it. I must report this matter to Lord Malekith," he said as he took off to look around and assess the damages.

Unbeknownst the Dark-Elves they had been having their conversation right in front of the very fighter that had caused such damages. Loki started to snicker, but his lungs were quickly filling with thick black smog. He had to get out of there. He he'd the steering ball steady so as not to make the rudder end of the ship turnabout, but he did manage to cause the ship to ascend. It rose slowly, right over the heads of the soldiers and went undetected.

'Do you hear something?" one Dark-Elf soldier asked to another as they cleaned away some of the rubble and wreckage of the ships.

"It's just one of the busted engines," the other grumbled in annoyance. "Come on, we've got to find out what happened here," He said as he flipped his blaster over his shoulder.

"If I catch even one of those Aesir filth in here, I'll sting him up myself and dangle his body from the palace window for all of those vermin to see."

"I'd just like to see one of them try to defy us," another ground out. "I'll hang innocent men just to prove a point!" one proclaimed and they all laughed.

"Cowering wretches!" the captain came to patrol one of the areas with his men. "I'd destroy their whole race, but we do need some slave labor," he explained and he also joined in on the laughter. "We will make whoever did this pay," he told his charges.

"There's no point in hiding!" another soldier echoed with a terrible grin on his bloodless face. "You think you can escape our wrath, but you can't will take out you and your family if we need to. We'll burn a whole village of you scum if we have to!" he taunted.

Loki let the engine roar and he turned up the throttle so that all the soldiers could here. The guards froze in their tracks jumped back and looked around wildly. "What was that?" demanded the captain.

Before one of the men had a chance to answer Loki cranked up the thrusters and allowed for fire and sparks to come off of the jet propellers on the back of the rudder. The captain's back caught fire. The Captain was sent screaming and yelling and wailing as he ran around the hangar bay. He crashed into the walls and ran into boxes of ammunition and crates full of weapons and set them on fire. "PUT IT OUT! PUT IT OUT!" he hollered at the top of his lungs as he raced around the large weapons depot setting fire to everything that he came in contact with.

"Captain, calm down," a few of the guards ordered him as they tried to catch him by the arms. He paid them no heed as the flames made their way through his armor and to his skin. The captain's panic caused the fire to spread to the other guards. They were all running about wildly with flaming arms and legs on fire setting alight everything in their path. Ships cargos and weapons all caught on fire.

"SHOOT IT DOWN! SHOOT IT DOWN!" the captain of the guard screamed out with his arms waving like windmills in the air.

A few of the guards stood dumbfounded. "Shoot what down?' they asked amongst themselves

"Shoot it! Shoot it!" the captain yelled as he sobbed. The guards knew not their target, but trained to follow orders they did as the captain had commanded and they shot their vacuum causing rifles off. They fired shot after shot. The shot at the roof and the vacuum blasters sucked up and disintegrated the ceiling. They shot at the walls and walls were instantly dissolved into nothing. The entire hangar was going up in flames and everything else that wasn't lapped up by fire was evaporated into thin air. Since there was no door left blocking the hangar. Loki flew the invisible ship right through the opening.

The trickster cackled as his invisible ship made its escape right before the eyes of the Dark-Elves. And with their help no-less. "For Asgard," he chanted proudly as he looked back at the hangar full of military vessels and warships that was going up in smoke. He wondered how Malekith would react to that. It would take the Dark-Elves years to rebuild their arsenal. It seemed as though Asgard had few natural resources to offer and from the way everyone talked neither did any of the other realms. Perhaps Malekith and his horde would never be able to build their destructive fleet again. Loki grinned at the thought of this.

"If it is just dream why does it matter?" the voice came back and asked.

Loki jumped, His hand veering from its hold of the orb that was used to steer the ship. The ship swerved and nearly spun off course. Loki shook himself and quickly regained control of the fighter. He looked around making sure he hadn't run into any important buildings on monuments as Thor had during their daring escape. He sighed as he observed that almost nothing of the glorious Imperial City was left. The temples and edifices, the palaces and manors and villas, the banks and cathedrals and universities and opera houses and stadiums and all their high places had been brought low. Every place was broken and demolished lying in ruin and renovated into some grotesque construction of Dark-Elf design. Where there had once been white limestone towers that stretched toward the sky now there were only a few grumbling, stubby structures that seemed to be made of the power of Aether ash. Once their streets had been paved in gold, now they weren't paved at all. They were nothing but mud and thatch. All the monuments that littered the golden city had been torn down the statues of Bor and Bestia. The beautiful sculpture of Yggdrasil that had once stood in the town square, all gone. Loki drove his fighter ship a little higher in the air and it surveyed the city. Although, it could hardly be called that. he had seen villages in the most primitive of worlds that had looked better than this pitiful hovel called Bedlam. From his birds-eye-view he could see that there was one statue. It was a horrid black monument made in honor of that horrible serpent who called itself a king. The sculpture showed the dragon coiling on itself over and over again. Finally, its torso rose out from the center of its coils and it sat up with its mouth hanging open showing its terrible fangs and its wings spread wide. It cast a horrible shadow over the poor shacks and dilapidated buildings that made up the homes of the Aesir. Besides the palace it was the largest structure in the limits of Bedlam.

Loki gritted his teeth. He bit deep into his frosted lip. He pressed upward on the throttle and the engines hurled and whirled and all of a sudden, his vehicle was thrust forward. His red eyes were narrowed and they stared right at the head of the dragon. He'd use the rudder and take the head right off of the hideous beast. He'd have to turn the steering ball very quickly and very sharply to get the angle and power just right in order to decapitate the statue. The Loki thought about it some more. He could just blast the statue. he could disintegrate it from top to bottom. Destroy it completely and utterly. This ship was built with fire power. He might as well use it. A silvery grin slipped across his blue mouth. Loki touched the screens and the control panels. He set the targeting and got it on lock. He put another hand on the trigger and he was ready to aim and fire.

"Why destroy the statue if you aren't going to help them fight?" that voice was back. It was quiet, but certainly distinct. It held an air of superiority to it.

"Stop it!" Loki muttered to himself he closed his eyes for just a moment. "Stop it," he repeated again angrily as he refocused and set his sights back at destroying the statue.

"Besides," the quite whispered posed. "It's just a dream. You're just trying to escape it. Why make more work for yourself?"

Loki moved his hand off the trigger momentarily. He swatted around his ear like there was an insect buzzing about. 'It's my dream. I can do what I want," he reminded himself then he clenched a fist around the trigger once more.

"Except for wake up," the voice reminded him. "It's just a dream." the voice egged on. "Come on you have to wake up. You have to get to your victory day. You have to wake up so you can become king of Asgard. Why bother with the statue?" the voice taunted.

"I hate it," Loki muttered back with red eyes glaring at the evil monument.

"it's just a dream," The voice whispered in his ear, but he could swear he could hear the nagging voice smirking as he murmured the words. Loki spun around frustrated. He could practically feel icy breath on his neck. He put his hand on his dagger's hilt. He didn't know who he expected to find in the cockpit, but before he could even think he hand the dagger drawn. He spun around, but he didn't see anyone. It was just him. He was alone. It was just him...alone. He was always alone. Alone with his thoughts. He told himself that that was how he liked it. Loki exhaled relaxed. Soon he heard a beeping. He quickly rotated to face the front of the cockpit. The screens were blinking and the controls were going wild and mad. Lights were flashing, buzzers were going off. The ship was alerting him that he was about to crash. The targeting system needed to know whether or not to fire at the target. Lokii's eyes grew wide. He reached out of the steering orb and quickly rolled it round and around so that it just narrowly missed hitting the dragon's statue.

"No!" Loki grumbled as he slid to the floor of the cockpit. He draped his arm across his forehead. He closed his vermilion eyes for a moment. "It's just a dream," the Frost Giant repeated. It was only then that Loki felt an overwhelming fatigue come over him, as he sat on the cool hard floor. His long arms reached up for one of the consoles and he dragged it back toward himself. He put in the coordinates to one of his secret passageways. He sat the ship on autopilot. Perhaps he could close his eyes just for a little while. Perhaps when he awakened he would be back in Asgard in real time

There was a rocking. At first Loki only groaned in response the turbulence he was experiencing, but his eyes remained closed. There was more and more rocking and soon it could not be ignored. Loki's flaming eyes flung open. "What?" He asked groggily. He sprang to his feet immediately and rushed to take hold of the controls. The buzzers were going off once more and lights were flashing and blinking. "Oh no the engine's overheated," Loki expressed as he read the warning signals that the computer was giving off. The fighter continued to shake and rattle. Loki tried to man the vessel and pull it out of autopilot. He noticed that he had also left the targeting system on when he had dosed off. He readily switched the targeting off hoping to alleviate some of the stress that had been put on the ship. "Oh, come on," Loki grumbled. "What are the odds that the ship I would pick would be a hunk of junk!" the Frost Giant groaned in annoyance. Loki did his best to steer the ship, but somehow it kept getting thrown off course as if the control panels become frozen. "let's go! Let's go! Pull up! Pull up!" he demanded of his fighter as he maneuvered the helm.

He looked out of the cock pit window he could scarcely recognize where he was. He must have been several miles from the limits of Bedlam though. Asgard's landscape had changed. By changed he truly meant it had been decimated. The Imperial City had once been home to millions of citizens, but just outside of the city there were a few smaller villages, some home to artisans and tinkers, many retired military officers moved out there to escape the hustle and bustle of the life of the metropolis. Further still there were the were beautiful mountains and lakes that made up the exquisite hill country. The hill county was full of virgin vistas, pristine crystal lakes rolling hills all sprinkled with wildflowers in the spring and summer months and jeweled colored foliage in the fall. The mountain views had been picturesque with peaks and summits and snow caps. There were quaint little mountainside villages that were nestled neatly in the clefts of the rocks. Some of the villages had been so well hidden to protect from invaders that the homes and structures of the village were actually made of the raw materials found of the hills. There were rustic homes made of study stone with their rooves patched together eloquently of fern and moss. Queen Frigga had been from one such village. His mother had told him of her days in her girlhood home where the flowers bloomed and they would fish and swim in the lakes and goats and sheep and deer would frolic in the meadows. Most of the people who lived in those villages made their livings as miners and trappers and traders of furs and pelts. There was gold in them their hills and there was much wealth to be made in the hillside settlements.

Loki looked around he searched for signs of the lovely hamlets, but he didn't see them. He didn't even see the golden gates that had usually protected these towns. All he saw was rubble. He saw what looked like bombs and blasters had been shot into the hills. The hills and mountain tops themselves seemed to be crumbling. Large boulders rolled off of the mountainside and simply splashed into the swampy water below. That lake had once been pure and blue, and full a crisp, clean water. It had been a fresh fjord and full of fish. Now it was dark as mud, murky and gray, it didn't flow or run and bubbled and burbled and gurgled like a bog. Loki didn't see the lush green fields filled life giving trees and radiant and delicate blossoms. The grass was withered and shriveled and stubby and dry, it was brown and dusty and nearly gray. No animals roamed and grazed. It was dead.

The trickster in a Jotun's skin forced his eyes to focus once more. He had started to gain some control of the ship. He did his best to steer it away from the jagged cliffs. His was continuing to search for something. Based on the navigation on the computer he should have been arriving to his secret passageway. Loki searched for the cleft in the rock, the hole in the mountain that had looked like an old miners' tunnel. Indeed, it was a tunnel. A tunnel that could do much more than take a person deep inside a mountain. It was a portal that could take them to a whole new world.

Loki squinted as his beady red eyes searched for the portal. The navigation system on the computer seemed to be heading right for it, but he still didn't see it. The ship picked up speed and soon it was racing toward the bluffs and the cliffs. "It should be right there," Loki said as he examined the navigation on the screens. He looked out the window and he could scarcely see it. "By the spirits," Loki muttered his eyes widening at what he beheld. "The portal!" he pointed out. "It's nearly closed!" he pounded on the control. "The ship won't fit!" Loki called out. He panicked. He tried to work a quick piece of magic to shrink the size of his fighter, but there was no time. The bluffs were quickly approaching and a shrinking spell of that magnitude would at least take one minute. And it was one minute that Loki didn't have to spare.

Loki didn't have to worry about jumping out the ship, though. Once more, the ship had started to spiral out of control. It was jumping in altitudes and veering to the left and to the right without his command. Soon, he found himself like Thor, frantically slapping the buttons and buzzers and trying to get the ship o change directions before it crashed. "PULL UP! PULL UP!" Loki yelled as he grabbed one of the levers and pulled back on it. He pulled so hard the lever broke off right in his hands. Loki fell on the floor of the cockpit and fighter bobbed and weaved all through the sky. His eyes were wide a red. He felt the ship slam against the jagged cliffs. It scraped along the wall making a bumpy ride. Loki was jolted and shaken up all about the cabin. The constant bumping and jumping and the fighter rammed against the sides of the bluff caused Loki to bite his lip. He sprang from sitting on his buttocks in confusion and horror. He went back the controls with shaking hands he tried to roll the steering orb toward the left to get it off of the cliff walls. The vessel veered wildly and the rudder struck the ground. The field was just a rough and rocks as the cliffs. The rudder dragged across the ground. The rocks and rubble got torn up and the ship's rudder broke off. He couldn't get the ship to pull up and fighter fell. It capsized. It tipped over and nosedived right onto the stony, thorny, lifeless fields. It started tumbling. Tumbling! Tumbling picked up speed rolling faster and faster and faster. Loki was tossed to and fro throughout the cockpit. He hit the ceiling and then hit the floor. He was thrown into the window and then thrust back down so that he hit the control panels. Loki tried to get his barring's. He tried to throw his hands up and shield himself. Bits and pieces of the ship started to break off. Glass and shrapnel and fibers splashed and crashed and grind together in the cockpit. Loki put his hands out. He created a bright green forcefield to protect his face from the onslaught of broken particles.

The ship continued to tumble. It was breaking off into pieces leaving a trail of metal, and oil in its wake. The ship rolled all the way down the field and if rolled off the edge and into the large body of water below. It entered the murky water with a splash and a plop. The ship was started to sink fast. It was pulled deeper and deeper into the goopy, black swamp. Since the cockpit window had been smashed to bits the cockpit was immediately inundated with the gunky water. It pushed Loki back. It nearly crushed him. The water was so icky and slimy that it seemed as if it was snaking around him. It was coiling around him like a python and trying to pull him down, down, down into its sickening depths. Loki tried to swim. But as more and more fragments of the ship broke off in the dark water a suction was created. A type of vortex that seemed nearly in escapable. He struggled. His limbs flailed futilely in the water. He kicked and paddled and bucked doing all he could to escape the water. But the water was so polluted and thick that it was hard to move. He was becoming frantic. he could feel himself losing air. He opened his eyes only to observe hideous, mutate fish swimming around him. The creatures had fins sharp as razors, some had two head, some had eyes like that of a spider, others had strange appendages and antenna. Some gave off a radioactive discharge. Others were like x-rays where their bones were displayed in ultraviolet colors on the outside of their bodies. All had knife like teeth. Each creature looked practically starved and they looked at Loki like a long-awaited prey. They came swimming swiftly straight for the Frost Giant. The mage had to do some quick tricks. Spinning his arms around, he created ripples in the soupy swamp. The ripples did not work as well as they normally would have in regular water, but it did the trick and scared off most of the fish. Some of the bolder or maybe the hungriest fish still pressed pass the ripples attempt to scare them off and continued charging at Loki. They whizzed through the water in the hunt. Obviously, they had evolved to live in these terrible polluted waters. Their razor-sharp fins easily sliced through the water and Loki knew that there was no way he could out swim the terrible beasts. He but a forcefield around himself blocking the ravenous attack. Teeth, fangs, tentacles, forked tongues and razor-sharp claws all desperately scratched and bit and tore against the force-field. It was impenetrable to their attacks. The Jotun couldn't help but allow a smirk to play across his lips as he watched the ravenous animals' pitiful attempts. While Loki blocked their attacks his lungs once again reminded him his need for air. With that he made a duplicate of himself in the water. The mutant fish attacked the image and Loki made a daring get away for the surface. His legs pushing and pumping and feverishly kicking as he through he could make out bubbles skimming the break in the water. The fish must have noticed the Blue man just sitting in the water had no meat or skin to him. The saw the scrawny, diminutive figure toward the surface. They couldn't let their meal get away. They swam vigorous behind him. Loki could hear the frenzied swish of their tails coming up behind them. He could hear their teeth gnashing as they tried the chomp his legs. His blue finger tips breached the water's edge. They reached up grabbed dirt and he pulled himself out of the water.

Loki's body flopped on the hard ground. He panted gratefully as he sucked in heaps of air. He lumbered and labored to pull his legs from still dangling in the dark lake. But he heard fins rapidly splashing toward him and he quickly yanked his legs onto solid ground. Just as he pulled his shaky limbs on to the patch of hard rock and gravely ground with sharp blades of brown grass one of the terrible aquatic creatures caught hold of the toe of his boot. It's dagger like teeth gnashed and slashed through the fine leather. It had two ghastly heads and the one head that was not gnawing away on his boot was desperately trying to take a hold of another part of his body. The head bobbed up and down, it thrashed from side to side looking for any piece of the Frost Giant that it could make a meal out of.

Loki scrambled. He kicked his foot wildly and round and about. The fish held on for dear life. It sunk it's razor sharp teeth deeper into the boot and Loki could feel the sharp stab of the incisors skimming the top of his foot. Finally, with a mighty thrust, he was able to kick the mutated beast off of himself. Its body spiraled through the air and soon slapped against the field that was as tough concrete. Loki held his chest and then looked to examine his boot. He was surprised when he found that the toe of his boot had been completely chomped off by the ravenous mackerel. He was relieved when he poked his blue toes through and found that he had them all. Loki wiped his brow. This dream was insane.

He started to dust himself off to wring out his clothing. He was covered in the sticky, tar-like water and it had saturated his clothes, stained and dyed them a sickening tint of brown. He also got a whiff of how sour smelling the water was. Once this lake had been so pure a person could drink right from it. Now it smelled of toxins and bile and refuse. Not to mention the fish! They were obviously contaminated. Loki looked at his hands he was surprised his wasn't glowing after having come in contact with that Aether infested water.

The Frost Giant sat for just a moment. He tried to get his bearings and formulate a new plan. Wasn't a chance he was going to take another dip in the black lagoon. Just as Loki's finger strayed to rubbing across his top lip he heard a sound. A terrible, rumbling and grumbling and feverish growling. He turned around quickly, but he was still sitting, his legs spread wide and his mouth gaping. He half way expected to find of killer kid come down from the mountain slopes to try to gobble him up next. He was shocked to see it was still that fish. Its fins had converted into freaky, crab-like appendages! It was rapidly crawling to him. Both heads still hungry. Loki's skin crawled as he observed the tiny monster. Finally, Loki jumped to his feet. The fish jumped on his limbs as well. Its vicious mouth aimed right out at Loki's face. Loki pulled out his knife as the fish flew toward him. He slashed through the air and took off both of the heads. The headless body writhed for a moment. The two heads, both had mouths that still snapped and clapped trying to catch something to eat. Loki's nose curled as he observed the disgusting creatures once more. He wiped his hands of the filthy blood that had splattered on him. Then, using a quick slight-of-hand trick he vanished his dagger into thin air and started to walk on.

He was walking nowhere. He was simply stumbling around soggy clothes with a broken boot with nowhere to t ego. He wished to shape shift, but he couldn't. Try as he might he couldn't get his form to convert. He couldn't escape this hideous shape. Even if he could have just turned into a fly he could have flown to his secret passageway that was just on the other side of the lake and been down with this horrible nightmare. "I have to wake up!" Loki shouted to no one. "Please!" he yelled as he raised his head toward darkened. "I have to wake up!" his screamed. His voice was echoing off of the cliffs and it was the only voice in his ear. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked as he walked around in circles. "What is it that you want from me, Dagmar?" he demanded. "Huh? Huh? HUH?" he huffed angrily in the field. He started running faster and harder. He was running furiously to who knew where. "WHAT DID YOU BRING ME HERE FOR?" he yelled. "To torture me?" He finally asked. His voice quieted as he ran out of breath. He continued to try to run. He tried to push himself and he ran with all his might, but he found himself slowing up. His limbs burned abominably. His lungs ached, his heart felt like it would burst. "To drive me mad?" he asked as he grabbed his head and his hair. He sank to his knees. The grass was practically gray where he sunk down. He covered his face and sobbed into his hands. "is this what the Fates have designed for me?" he questioned. He managed to pull his hands down away from his blue face. They were shaking horrible. Loki bit his lip. "Is this all I was born for?" he wondered aloud. "To die a tortured monster?" he whispered as he looked at his icy hands that were jagged and hard that had nails like claws on an animal that was a deadly predator, with strange carvings that cut across his flesh like a child's scribbling. "Maybe I am just a creature of chaos," he sighed.

"You were born to be a king," the wind carried the words with it. Loki gasped so deeply that he nearly choked. He looked around. His eyes wide, nostrils flaring. The voice came on the wind but there was no wind blowing.

He shook himself. "Just kill me here and now!" the Frost Giant ranted as he pulled himself up off of his knees. He stood tall and proud. He jutted forth his chin and raised it toward the heavens! 'Just go ahead and kill me!" he roared to the dark, low handing clouds that were rolling in. "Don't you dare bother to allow me to wake from this terrible nightmare after Convergence has passed," he threatened. "After my moment of glory has passed. "If I fail Thanos again, my life is forfeited anyway," whispered out the side of his mouth. He sat for a moment still looking out at the expanse wasteland. For miles and miles, as far as his eyes could see there was nothingness. But he couldn't sit there forever. He had to get moving. Loki wiped his brow that was still drenched with the sticky, brown swamp water. He pushed himself to go on further.

Loki squinted and continued to look out in the distance. He spotted something over the horizon. He thought he saw buildings. In the midst of brown and gray and black, Loki swore he could make out the faint color of the red rooves. A small smile spread across his thin lips. Perhaps there was someone in the small village who could loan him some type of contraption equipped to cross the deadly lake. The village was a far off and with every painstaking step it seemed to get further and further away. The day was cool and Loki was wet and exhausted and the rocks and gravel and sharp blades of rigid brown grass ground against the exposed part of his foot that stuck out of his broken boot. He could only hope that in the village there was a warm fire burning in the hearths and maybe a shoe-repairman.

One foot in front of the other he trudged along. As he drew closer trickster thought he heard a soft ringing of a bell. His perked and harkened to the gentle ping pong, ding doing of the bell. Loki recalled the stories his mother used to tell about her mountainside home. His mother's family was noble of course. Her father's family had served as leaders of the community for many generations. Her father had been a decorated war hero and when he returned from serving in the wars on the high seas he took his position as governor of their village. The queen would tell her sons about the times when she would have the honor of ringing the bell in the town square. It was a prestigious honor. The bell communicated many things about town life. Such as when the day was to begin, when children were to begin their lessons for schooling and end the day. It called town meetings and rang to beckon people back from the fields and mountains and the lakes if there was danger. It played to ring in celebrations and festivals and weddings in the town. Loki became excited. Surely, this one outskirt community had survived. Perhaps nestled here safely in the hill country they had kept up some of the ancient traditions of the Aesir people of this region. Loki picked up his pace. He hobbled along and hastened to the chime of the bell.

As he ran toward to the call of the bell he started to hear that it wasn't just ringing, but it was truly chiming to a tune. A familiar tune. He knew it although he couldn't quite put his finger on the name of the song he recognized it. The Frost Giant came running. He chased down the sound. It was low and steady and deep, melodic, soulful, but somewhat sad. Loki found himself humming along to the song. The words weren't coming to mind right away, but he was sure that he had heard it before. Loki imagined that maybe it was some country song. Something that Queen Frigga would have been caught humming in her private time in her garden. A song that maybe she had sung to him on nights when he was restless and unable to sleep.

The bell's toll grew louder and louder and the buildings that had seemed so far away were coming into focus. He could make out the red rooves and the white buildings. He thought he could just make out the protective gates that guarded the hilltop hamlet. Loki ran in a dead bolt for the town. As he drew closer though he slowed down. His mind raced in time much quicker than his feet. He couldn't have imagined that the townspeople would have greeted a Frost Giant. Even in his mother's own village he would not be welcomed, not in this form. His feet slowed to almost a crawl. He froze in his tracks as he drew to the gate of the town.

The gate of the town sat at the base of a large, steep slope. The village seemed to be about a 2 mile climb up the slope. The gate was in the center of a large brick wall. The wall was tall and strong. It stood about 12 feet high and was incredibly thick. It was made of cement and stone. These mountains were rich with stone deposits and many of the hill-country dwellers who moved to the larger cities of the realm found work as stone masons. The fine craftsmanship was evident. The village was well fortified. As Loki grew closer to the gate he noticed that the wall had been all but destroyed. His mouth dangled open as he noted the wreckage that had occurred on the wall. He squinted his flaming eyes and inched closer toward the wall. He imagined that the wall was supposed to wrap around the entire perimeter of the base of the hill. It had been made to protect the villagers from all sides from any attacks. These villages were old. Some of them were in existence before the realm was united. Those times had been vicious and the massive wall was proof of such a history.

This wall had undoubtedly stood the test of time. For centuries it had been a buffer between the people, but now the wall had fallen into terrible disrepair. The wall had patches, holes in it from where it had been blown out. Some places were left wide open and nothing but crumbs of rock and ash were left where the wall should have been. Loki drew closer. Loki placed his hand on the broken bricks of the wall. He studied it. There were charcoal markings and the remains of catapults and bombs. Loki got a sinking feeling in his gut. He feared for the tiny town. Many times, the small communities only had militias. Brave men who would take it upon themselves to protect their villages and families, but surely, they would have not had enough man power to hold off Lord Malekith and his hoard, let alone the terrible dragon.

No, Loki bit his lips and closed his eyes. He refused to believe that everyone had been destroyed. He pressed his icy hands against the bricks once more. He sealed the remainder of the wall off with ice. He filled in the gaps with a thick icy layer. The ice froze over even the parts of the wall that were still standing. It filled in the missing patches with giant sheets of ice. Loki licked his chapped icy lips and proceeded to walk toward the gate. The gate hung off the hinges of the wall. It was rusted and corroded, bits of hit were chipping off. Mangled, twisted, thorny vines had started to twine around edges of the gate. Through the vines Loki noticed the name Burk carved into the gate. He gentle pushed the gate open and it instantly fell off of the hinge and collapsed onto the ground. Dust flew in Loki's face and few moths and other insects spring forth from the dirt and fluttered about. He fanned in front of his face as he scattered the bugs. The dust settled and Loki took a step inside. Wild, thorny vines that coiled like snakes had slithered across the ground and ran up the side of the wall. Bushes that were shaped like monsters sprang forth randomly. There was no color. Everything was a dried out brown and a charcoal black mixed with a terrifying tint of the blood red of the Aether. It was all so lifeless and dead. The Frost Giant scowled. Soon Asgard would be just like Svartalfheim.

Loki gulped. He swallowed thickly as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down dangerously. He forced himself onward. He stepped over the dried-up plants and gnarled looking bushes. He tip-toed around the cracks from a well warn rode that seemed to run up the center of the hill. The path had been paved, but the pavement was chipped and cracked and nasty viper like weeds poked their horrid heads from in between the cracks and got caught on the edges of Loki's pants and they cut and ripped them. Some of the weeds were apparently carnivorous. They had mouths that snapped and clapped and hungered for flesh. Once they took hold of the hem of Loki's trousers they refused to let go. Loki yanked the bottom of his leather pants leg. The plants mouth remained clenched and locked on holding him. Soon more and more of the vicious, black and red carnivorous thistles started springing forth out of every crack and crevice on the path. Loki found himself surrounded by the beastly vines. They hissed at him. They shot forth long black limbs and tried to entangle Loki's legs. The trickster groaned as he felt the prickly sting of their tiny teeth nibbling at his ankles. Loki winced from their bites. "You're worse than the fish!" he swore as he kicked his foot trying to free himself from the wicked weeds. They didn't release him without a fight though. Finally, Loki shot an icy blast down at the floor. The vines immediately withdrew themselves. The wriggled and writhes and let out a pitiful screech as they shriveled back up and descended back into the recesses of the cracks.

Loki growled and spat at the ground as he saw one last horrid weed daring the rear its ugly head again. Upon hearing him the terrible plant sank back into the dirt. The mage looked down at his pants. They were tattered to shreds of the bottom and they exposed his icicle ankles. The low, dull toll of the bell once more struck Loki's ears. He heard it the soft mournful ring. It was too precise, too much like a song. Surely someone must have been playing the bell calling for people to come forth. Loki obeyed the call.

He journeyed up to the top of the hill. His heart pounded and his gut clenched in tight knots as he drew to the top of the hill. He tried to cloak himself. To make himself not appear in such a hideous form. Perhaps he wouldn't have to talk to anybody, if he was invisible he could just sneak into a barn and grab a flying skiff and or some type of long boat across the lake. But when Loki came to the top of the hill he immediately let the glamour fall. He didn't need to be cloaked on concealed. There was no one to hide from.

The small town was in shambles. It was a ghost town. The houses and buildings were nothing but skeletons. The windows and doors had been broken down and busted out. Glass and rubble, metal and bricks clothing and pots and pans and tools and scraps of paper. That was all that was left. Loki licked his lips as he brought himself to walk through the town. The town where the rooves of the houses were caving in and the walls were smashed to bits. There were bomb casings that seemed to be scattered about. Some buildings have been completely incinerated. They stood like black paper and, like houses of cards and Loki thought that if he blew on them they would just collapse into heaps of ash.

Loki's feet somehow just drifted listlessly through the barren village. Every tried leaf that rustles, every piece of paper and fabric that wafted round and about the empty hollow town made him shiver. He was tempted for a moment to call out, to see if anybody was there, but just as he was about to lift his hand to cup around his mouth he realized he didn't need to. The walls that weren't charcoal black or blasted into rubble with bombs were spray painted with dry brown blood. There were no food or provisions. He checked the houses and barns, but they were devoid of food. All the crated and barrels and vials and containers were broken and smashed to bits. Even the store houses had all run out of food. It was obvious that this town had been abandoned for a long time now.

Loki walked in and out of the alleyways. He continued to find more and more rubbish and waste and devastation. He went into one of the silos. He opened up the red barn doors and his nostrils were immediately assaulted with the terrible stench of rotting corpses. He gagged and cupped his hand over his nose and mouth. He looked around and he saw no grain in the storehouse, but rather hundreds of animal skeletons. Goats and pigs and cattle, sheep... all just hold up in the silo...dead. Maybe there had been food in there once. The animals had taken shelter in the silo and eaten the grain and eventually just starved to death. "Poor beasts," the enchanter mumbled.

The dark-haired Frost Giant left the door open and walked away the vile smell oozed out into the eerie and empty streets. It permeated the air. Loki didn't even bother to cover his mouth. He deserved to smell the noxious odor. "Where are the people?" He wondered. Perhaps where are the people was a silly question. They were not there of course. The mage could only hope that the people had fled. But from the damages he knew that that hadn't happened. The small village had no doubt come under fire. Once the Dark-Elves had taken over the Imperial City they spread their tyranny to all the small shires throughout Asgard. These poor people with their limited access to resources and their isolation well...they...they simply hadn't survived.

He walked with his head down low. He noticed the blaster marks that had torn through a small building that looked like a schoolhouse. The back wall had a crater in it the size of an ox and there were shredded pieces of wood from the broken desks. Al of which seemed to have fallen in the direction of the crater. Had the Dark-Elves simply shot their blasters and evaporated everyone in this tiny town? Loki clenched his fist. He gritted his teeth. He ground his stone-like nails against the icy flesh of his palm. He scratched deeper and deeper into the surface of his icy skin and caused new cuts and ridges to be formed there. Had they just wiped the poor people of the town of Berk out? Had they just fired off their weapons and evaporated them? Had they erased them like they didn't exist? Asgard's queen...Frigga...the woman he had called his mother his entire life had grown up in a small and peaceful little shire just like this? He thought of Frigga's relatives. The people who had visited the palace on holidays and birthdays He had called them his aunts and uncles and cousins. His uncle Jasha was the only person in their family who had dark hair. He had thought that he'd inherited his looks from him. Good people like that. Simple people like that. Loving, kind, honest people like that had just been taken out of existence and vanished from reality and no one knew. It was more than he could stand.

"NO!" He cried angrily as his red eyes pricked with water. He drove his onyx talons into his cobalt blue skin so deep that thick, sticky licorice colored blood poured forth and ran from his palms down his arms. "No!" he shook his head. He didn't even feel the pain he caused himself. "No, it can't be," he went on shaking his head. "There have to be bodies. There must be bodies!" he declared.

Once again, he picked up the pace and started running. He ran blindly and wildly through the town. He Desperately darted into each house and each little shop, from the butchers and the bakery and shoemakers to the little coffee shops and restaurants. He shouted and screamed and frantically called out, "HELLO! HELLO CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?" He yelled it at the top of his lungs. He tried to wake the dead. His cries fell on deaf ears. No one responded. Loki went into the shops and tried to overturn the tables he tried to look through the piles and piles of rubble and ash and sift through the mounds and mounds of debris in search of bodies. He'd find their bodies. He'd find them. Even if he just found one. One would be enough. If he could just find one body and give that person a proper Viking funeral. He could break down one of the doors from the barns, set the makeshift pyre on fire and float it on the poison lake. He remembered the solemn funeral march and he'd sing over the bones. He'd remember the life that had so carelessly so mercilessly been snuffed out.

"Snuffed out because of you, Loki," a cruel voice hissed in his ear.

Loki gasped and dropped one of the heavy boulders that he had so carefully been trying to displace and move in search of body. "What?" his voice warbled and shook. So, did his hands.

"This is all your fault! Look what you have done! Look at the destruction you have caused!" it accused.

He couldn't keep his hands from shaking. His knees felt weak as water. "No please...I...I...I didn't do this!" he insisted. He shook his head. "No...no...no this was Malekith and Thanos..." Loki explained.

"And the dragon. Don't forget the dragon," the voice's familiar sarcastic tone cut into his thoughts.

'But...but...but that's not me..." Loki muttered breathlessly as he stared down at his hands. His hands that didn't even look like a man's hands, but they looked like the ravenous talons of some type of predatory creature.

"isn't it," The tone was clipped and condescending. "It's a monster..."

"Just like me," Loki acknowledged. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. He pushed down the bile that threatened to bubble up from his esophagus. He shook his head. He reminded himself that this was just a nightmare. It wasn't real and all these feelings of guilt and self-loathing and horror were just temporary, merely momentary. This didn't matter. This town. This town didn't matter. It probably wasn't even a real town. He doubted there was a real hamlet named Berk in Asgard. He couldn't recall it. He just had to find a way to wake up that's all he needed was simply to wake up and then all would be well.

His mental conversation was interrupted as once again the chiming of the bell. Loki's eyes became wide. Once again, he felt himself drawn to the forlorn toll of the bell. He moved toward it. It was still ringing softly, faintly and distantly, but somehow at the same time it sounded louder and stronger. The tune that it played was now echoing in time with his heart. He made his way toward the town- center. There he found the lonely bell ringing. There he saw so, so, so, so many skeletal remain attached to a scaffold, just swinging.

"No!" he gasped as he watched the bones sway eerily in the putrid breeze. The way the bones tingled as the clattered against one another was a strange sort of music in his ears. He took a step back. His eyes growing wider. A scaffold seemed to have been purposefully built in the center of town for a mass execution. He shook his head. In Asgard, hanging was considered one of the worse ways to die to have these many hangings. It would not be done by Aesir hands. Loki's blue hands naturally strayed to massaging his thin neck. He gulped. His crimson eyes darted back and forth. He counted the bodies. There were countless bodies. All the bones were old and dried out, brown or even blackened. Hollow. No flies buzzed around and there was not even an inch of sinew or muscle or skin left on the remains. Some of the bones had been broken. Loki could see the disconnected clavicles and the shattered femurs and kneecaps.

Loki held back his vomit as he took note of the skeletons with rags hanging off of them. Some wore frocks of simple quality, with aprons, they had been nothing but milkmaids. What had they done to deserve such treatment? A warrior of Asgard was honor bound to a code. Even when the Einherjar sacked a town they never killed an entire village. Normally, the Valkyrie would take the women and children and the elderly prisoners and find them asylum somewhere. This was madness. Loki wanted to look away. He wanted to blink, but somehow, he couldn't. His bright red eyes were glued, transfixed on the horrible hangings.

As far as he could see there was a stretch, a forest of skeletons hanging from the scaffolds. There were some skeletons that were long. The bones were thick. They were so long that they were barely raised off of the ground. Their toes barely skimmed above the floor of the scaffold. From a distance, Loki inspected the tunics. Many were tattered, but Loki could make out the blue coloring on their lapels. These had been young hopefuls. Youths who had been hand selected by their communities to come to the Imperial City and possibly train as Einherjar. Loki cursed, and spat on the blood-stained ground before him. They never even got the chance. He noted some of the bones were shrunken and frail. Some of the hair on the skeletons blew in the breeze. It was gray or white. Those skeletons were dressed in distinguished purple robes. They were the elders and leaders of this small community. They were all dead. Loki felt his heart slamming against his chest as he beheld the gruesome sight. He wanted to look away, but simply couldn't. "Why?" Loki asked his voice choking. The words were bare able to escape his throat. "Why?" Loki muttered again. His lip quivered as he beheld the bodies of his people all dead. "Why? Why would they do this?' he wondered out loud. He had always known of the ruthlessness of the Dark-Elves. He had read about it in his history classes. He had heard Lord Algrim expound upon it when he would lecture he and Thor, but never did he think he'd witness the magnitude of the devastation that they could commit. They had no hearts. They had no souls. They had no honor within them.

Once more the slow, low knell of the bell rang true in his ears. It broke him from his trance. It was just then that he noticed that all the bodies...every last one of the 300 of them was an adult body. His heart raced and his black blood coursed rapidly as a raging river through his icy veins. "The children!" Loki called out. What about the children? What had Malekith and his imps done with the children of Asgard. Loki looked around wildly. Perhaps the Dark-Elves had took the children captive. Maybe he had brought them back to Imperial City and made them slaves. Yes, perhaps. Surely, Malekith would have enough sense to just do that. The empires of the Dark-Elves had always relied heavily on slave labor. Malekith had great desire to turn the Aesir into slaves. Maybe he had simply taken these children. Loki found himself nodding in agreement with his own the thoughts, but all the while he found himself running around searching for the bodies of the children.

He found them. It didn't take long in all honesty. The village wasn't very big. He had already inspected most of it just walking up to the bell. Then he stumbled upon the longhouse. The meeting hall. The place where feasts were held and laws were made and elders gathered and warriors drank and women told stories. Little towns like this way up in the hill country did not have the sprawling marketplaces of the cities or music houses and libraries all life and activity took place in the longhouses. It was simple but sturdy looking building and of all of the dilapidated and wrecked buildings in the town it was the one that had fallen into the least amount of disrepair. His heart skipped a beat seeing that at least this structure still stood. He went to the building. He took a deep breath before he broke down the wooden barricades and reinforcements that had been put up on the door posts. Someone was desperate to keep people out. With beastly strength he ripped it down. The wood was practically dry rotted and crumbled in his hands. His frozen lips burned as he ran his tongue over them. He kicked down the door. It instantly caved. It flew off of the handles without any protest.

Loki swallowed deeply before opening his vermillion eyes and looking upon the ghastliest sight he had ever seen. There, scattered across the longhouse floor the skeletons of hundreds of children. Loki was shaking. His blue skin drained a shade so that he was almost the color of pure ice. His eyes quickly darted back and forth examining the tiny bones. Some were just babes. Many of the skeletons had interlocking arms that were wrapped tightly around another. Some clutched moth-eaten blankets. Others he found with the thumb in the teeth. He walked over and across their bodies. He walked cautiously. He was careful not to touch or harm even one of their frail bones. There were empty plates on the tables in the longhouse. Loki looked around and he saw barrels with labels for foods and fruits and salted meats, but it wasn't enough to feed all these children, not forever. He studied the children, their clothing had tassels some of the clothes had faded bright colors. Once these children had been cared for...loved by someone. There were toys. Little wooden model boats or flying skiffs. Loki accidently crunched a few toy soldiers. He gasped. He thought he had stepped on one of their tiny hands. He was somewhat relieved to find that it was only tin figurines. He stooped down to scoop up the toys. They were simple. They were far cruder than the toys that he and Thor had played with as youngsters. They weren't as fancy as the toys that he saw in the windows when he would stroll through the marketplace, these had probably been forged by the local blacksmith or maybe even a parent, but as he looked at the painted smiles on their shiny faces he knew that the fun had been the same. He could almost hear childish laughter echoing through this great hall. It fell silent as the grave as he looked at the carnage around him. Loki's frozen finger traced the little toy soldier's roughly carved features. His lip quivered and he quickly dashed the toy to the floor. He walked on and saw that some of the skeleton fists were tightly clutched around swords. Some of the swords were just made of wood or clay or plastic. The bigger bodies had swords made of iron. They were poorly crafted, blunt not double edged. Many children in Asgard talked of being great warriors. They dreamed of being heroes. Asgard trained children in the way of arms, but no child in Asgard in recent years had been forced to fight for their lives. Loki didn't even know that he had started to weep until her felt the sting of his salty tears in the cuts and carvings on his face.

Loki kept walking around. He circled the longhouse several times. He had no choice, but to take it all in, but he didn't want to believe all the horror that he beheld. Each time he circled them he found something new. He found a child's hand the held fast to a makeshift hammer. It was simply made of stick and stone tied together with knotty, brown rope, but on the wooden handle the word Mjolnir was carved. Poor children. They believed. They believed that Prince Thor would come rescue them just like in the days before. No doubt Thor would have tried had his mind not been consumed by a wicked enchantment. They believed in the power of Mjolnir to vanquish all evil. Maybe it did. But he had taken it. He had done away with it. He had destroyed that power to bring deliverance to these poor innocents. He dare not even pick up the crudely made toy. All of a sudden, heat started rising all over him. It started in his gut, fire in his belly. It spread like hot lead coursing through his veins. He felt as if his insides were melting. Loki scratched and clawed at his own skin. He started screaming. He felt like fire was all over him. "Stop! Stop!" he hollered at the top of his lungs. "GET IT OFF ME! GET IT OFF!" he started tearing at his garments. His long black nails dug into his clothing and tore it to shreds. He snatched his surcoat right off of his own back. He threw it down and stomped on it. There was no fire there though. He felt like a madman. He was already bareback. His garish azure flesh exposed to all and still he wanted to strip out of his pants. He started to run out of the longhouse. He'd had enough of this house of horrors. He tried to use his frosty powers to take away from the dreadful burning sensation that had overcome him, but nothing seemed to work. He stumbled out of the long house. He tripped over their little bones. He felt awful as he did so. He got so tripped up that he fell straight down into a pile children. They huddled together, they clutched and clung to each other. Loki pushed himself off of them. It was a group of girls. All in little silky tunic dresses. Perhaps they had been the daughters of someone wealthy once. The smallest skeleton had a pretty porcelain doll sitting on her chest. Loki picked up the doll. Its dress was quite fancy. A pink chiffon with white lace. Loki could have sworn that Queen Frigga had had a dress very similar. Loki smiled despite the tears that washed down his cobalt cheeks. The tall was tanned skinned, with long blonde locks, freckled cheeks, rosy lips, sweet brown eyes. He wondered what the owner of the doll had looked like. Had she dreamed of growing up to look like her little friend. He thought of the little girl he had met scuttling for snails of the outskirt of Bedlam. Lady Dagmar's daughter...his...had she ever held a doll in her dark and dismal life?

The hot feeling overwhelmed him again. All over his body he felt as if hot oil was being poured all over his skin. He kept staring at the tiny skeletons. Each one of them seemed to hold a tiny match with they wanted to fling at he and set him all the more on blaze. Loki back up. He took steps back. He waved his hands in front of his face. "No! No!" he cried as he covered his hot red eyes with his cold blue hand. "This isn't real!" he declared to himself. "This isn't real!" he screamed as he covered his ears and closed his eyes. He kept saying it. But the hollowed skeletons of children didn't disappear. They stayed they became more vivid. "No, No, no," Loki moaned. His eyes popped back open. "This isn't my fault!" he insisted. He pointed to himself pleading for the little broken bodies to understand. "Don't look at me! Don't look at me!" he shouted to the skulls with hollowed out eye sockets. "I didn't do this to you!" he tried to explain. He shook his head. "It wasn't me! It WASN'T ME!" he shrieked. The bones didn't respond. "I can't take it anymore," he whispered to himself as he darted out of the long house. Loki thrust his back against the side of the structure. His whole body shook. His hands burned fiercely. He couldn't stop them from burning. He rubbed his palms together. He rubbed them on his pants legs and on his flesh, but nothing cooled them. "It's not real...it's not real...it's not real," he kept muttering to himself over and over. "IT'S NOT REAL!" he hollered. His voice the only one for miles and miles around. He was left gaping, heart thumping, spine shaking, eyes wet. He looked around. "Is it? Is it?' he whispered in a voice so small he could scarcely hear himself.

"Dagmar, what is this place?" he questioned out loud. "Why'd you bring me here?' he asked his eyes roving all about the eerie ghost town. "What is it that you want me to do? You said it was a gift," he reasoned. He pointed his finger at the air. "This is no gift!" he accused. "It's a nightmare... a curse!" he shot. "I don't want it!" he articulated. "Take it back! Take it back. TAKE IT BACK!" he roared at her and he thrust his hands out in front of him. His protestations changed nothing. "WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO!" He leaned back tossed his head back and turned in a wide circle and raised his hands in the air as he cried out for an answer. The sky remained still, gray and blank. There wasn't even a minuscule lick of wind. Loki panted. His eyes were wild and mad. He turned back to the wall of the longhouse. He leaned his forehead against it. He banged lightly on the paneling. "Please," he breathed. He was so tired. So very, very tired. He could hardly even make a fist. "I just want to leave...I just want to leave...please."

He dozed off for but a moment. He was dead on his feet as he were. His vermilion eyes batted open. For a moment he dared to imagine that he was waking up back in his illustrious chamber within the Imperial Palace. A palace that although had suffered some battering still remained every bit a beautiful edifice. He thought he would awaken to the brilliant dawn of the day of the Convergence. Then everyone would see. The world under his rule would not be a place of horrors, but a place of new order, beauty and delight. They'd see. They'd see. They'd all see. But as things came in to focus Loki found that that was not the case. He was still in this place of the no more town of Berk. "No, no, no, no" he shook his head. It was still there. It was all still there. He was unable to stand anymore of it.

Loki conjured a massive fireball in his hands. He was amazed that he still had the power in this form. There against the backdrop of his frozen fingers burned a great throbbing orange ball of energy. He smiled wicked and wild and wide. It felt so good to release the heat that seemed to flow and rise and burn and smolder within him. He knew what he had to do. It was about time. Someone had to do it. These poor little bodies had been left to rot for far too long. By the looks of it a century or more. He had to do it. He had to render unto these poor children the last rights. They were Aesir after all. They were supposed to be glorious. They deserved to have their remains return back to the heavens and become the stars they were meant to be. He allowed the fireball to leak forth from his hands slowly and engulf the entire longhouse.

It didn't take long. One spark and the whole longhouse was soon ablaze. Bright orange and fluorescent red radiated and contrast deeply with the shrouded gray cloak of death that had been lingering over this town for far too long. He burned it up. It was quick. The wood was dry and the reinforcements were weak. The roof caved in almost instantly and the flames lapped up the dilapidated old building. Loki looked on. He just stood there and watched with a smug grin plastered on his azure mouth as the meeting place went up in smoke. Perhaps he should allow the whole town to be incinerated. He wanted to. This place was cursed. It was all dead anyway. Then he thought about it more. This shell was all that was left of the town of Berk. Who they were who they had been it was no more. All that remained of them was the husks of old houses. Perhaps they had been goatherds in this town, perhaps they had been miners who harvested the diamonds that his mother wore around her neck and fingers, perhaps they had been woodsmen who harvested timber that warmed hearths all throughout Asgard. Maybe they were trappers, who hunted and sold pelts to be sold and made into lovely ermine shawls for the noblemen and women to drape around their bodices. If he burned this place to the ground it would be as if they were never here. And although, he wanted to forget this place more than he even wanted to forget any of the horrors he'd seen in Bedlam. He couldn't have them be erased from memory all together.

Loki jumped back as sparks flew from the building. He shielded his face from the heat that radiated off of the long house. He closed his palm. He quenched the flame in his hand. He reached out his right palm. He felt around with his powers in the burning building. So much had already been destroyed, but he was able to take hold of something. He called it forth. He summoned it at rescued it from the fire. It came to his hands, singed and soot covered, but now consumed completely. The porcelain doll. Loki clutched the toy to his chest. He put a purple force-field around the longhouse to keep the fire contained. The fire would simply die out once the building had been burnt to a crisp.

The Frost Giant walked back toward the bell cradling the doll in his hands. The bell continued to ring. Each bong and chime were more distinct now. He could really hear the old song echoing in the distance. He approached the bell. It was an old an warn instrument. It was made sturdy and strong and stood about as tall as two grown men standing on top of each other. It was tarnished and beat up and looked like it was made of brass and bronze. There were a lot of dents and cracks in it. Still the weathered old bell stood. It stood the test of time and when all the world had disintegrated around it, it still rang true.

Loki dusted it off. Underneath the soot and dirt that had caked its way onto the instrument there was a beauty and an ornate craftsmanship. Loki placed the little porcelain doll right beneath the bell. He propped it up so that she sat up pretty and neat as possible. He nodded. His eyes were misty, but he refused to shed anymore tears. He started to turn to leave this dreadful cemetery, but then he started to hear singing.

Loki looked up. He looked around. The song started in low, but it started to grow. First it just seemed like one voice. One tiny, small voice whispering a melancholy tune. Slowly, more and more voices seemed to join. He heard two distinct voice one male, one female. The two voices perfectly blended. Soon he heard others come. It was a chorus and they all sung in perfect harmony. He had sure he had never heard any choir in Asgard sing so well, sing so true. He couldn't make out their words but their pitch was perfect, their voices splendid. The bell rung along in perfect time with the song adding to the beautifully haunting melody. Before long Loki felt as though he was hearing hundreds maybe even thousands singing. All the while the song got truer and stronger and the familiarity of the old hymn started to come back to him. He was starting to pick up on the words a little bit more. he couldn't quite make them out, but he could tell there was speaking. Still it sounded strange and garbled, like listening to a language he didn't understand. Loki shook his head. The polyglot was puzzled. He knew scores of languages. In the millennia he'd been alive he'd had plenty of time to study and master many tongues. The song was too familiar, surely, he knew it. He strained to hear more.

His red eyes were wide. His blue hands cupping his ear as he tried to hear. He kept looking around. He kept expecting to see a might chorus of people walking through the town all singing. But he saw nothing. The town was deserted, vacant besides for the charred and battered buildings and the bones that hung from the scaffold. Still he heard more. The words came to his ear and he recognized them. They were crisp and clear as day. His breath caught in his throat. He was so choked up he couldn't breathe.

"The Fates love Asgard,

We have to keep believing

Though we're scattered, torn and divided

We are still her heart.

The fall of Asgard ephemeral and fleeting

The spirit keeps on burning though the flesh is torn apart,"

"Oh spirits," Loki muttered as his knees crashed to the floor. His head reeled. His body felt woozy. The heat washed over him and made his icy body start to drip from nose to nail like a popsicle. "No," he moaned. He grabbed his head. He wanted to plug his ears, but just as he was about to insert his fingers into his ears new voices joined the group of thousands. These voices were smaller, lighter, more innocent. "Nononono," he begged. He shook his head. "Nononono," he mashed his lips together. His eyes looked up toward the heavens. The sky gray and bleak as ever. "Please, not the children," he cried. His plea mattered not. The children's voice rang out loud and proud in that empty square.

"Take me in...my dream recurring...one more longing backward glance," the little angelic voices sang.

Loki leaned his hands on his knees. His chest and shoulders heaved, his whole body was perspiring for profusely he seemed as if he would turn into a puddle. His lips quivered. He broke down as he heard the voices of each little boy and girl. Tears cascaded down his face. The burned and scolded him and he sobbed all the harder. He hugged himself as he doubled over and rocked back and forth. And although his throat was raw and sore he found himself reluctantly humming along. He opened his mouth. He wanted to sing. He pursed his lips and was ready to utter the words for the next verse, but somehow, they didn't come. The words didn't come out. They were stuck on his tongue. He kept trying. He moved his mouth, but he remained voiceless. Frustrated, he pounded the sand and gravel and ash beneath him/. He pounded until he was truly exhausted. His hands were sore and swollen by the time he was done. He picked them up. The dust fell from them as they shook. He looked at them. Skinny fingers that looked like icicles, carved and tattooed and twisted, long nails that were black as midnight and sharp as knives. "Of course," the Frost Giant mumbled as his looked at his horrible hands. He wasn't an Aesir. And he had no right to sing this ancient hymn. This song was a song of prayer. An anthem that every Aesir learned. It was a psalm of protection. It had blessed and protected the people from being destroyed in the days of old. During the time of the first songs. How could he even think that he would be allowed to utter the beautiful lyrics from his tainted lips? He wasn't an Asgardian in need reaching out beyond the branches of Yggdrasil searching for one last hope. He was a monster. He was the true cause of all the pain and suffering. He was a destroyer of Asgard. He couldn't sing with them.

"I can't take it! I can't take it anymore!" Loki wept. "I can't stay here a moment longer," he announced. He had to end this madness. He had to escape. He reached for his dagger. He quickly pulled it from its sheath and watched the gorgeous blade gleam. "It's the only way out," he responded as he saw the light danced off the sharp blade. He panted as he raised the blade high. The Aesir frowned upon the notion that he had conceived in his mind. A person should be willing to fight to the end, that was there motto. A person should have the strength to endure. A person should have the conviction to lie in the bed they made and face the music. Loki gulped. That was the Aesir way, the code of the Einherjar warriors. He had never been a warrior. He was no Asgardian. He clenched his fist tighter around the hilt of the dagger as he raised it up high. No matter what happened, he'd be free of this awful nightmare. That was all he wanted now. He drew in a deep breath. He reached up once more with the dagger in his hand. He brought his hand down swiftly and aimed it toward his chest.

"Loki, what are you doing?" a soft elderly voice asked just before the knife took its final plunge.

Loki's hand started to shake. A thick hand came a rested upon his shoulder. His eyes were squeezed shut. Tears pushed through the sides. Breathlessly, he opened his bleary bloody eyes. His quivering hand faltered and he dropped his knife. It hit the ground. Thud. Dust flew up. The hand moved from his shoulder and took to cupping his quivering hand and lowering it back to his side. The hand nudged his gaping mouth up so that it could close.

The figure moved from standing beside him or behind him to hobbling in front of him. He watched as the person lumbered forth. The steps were so heavy the ground shook around them. The person's breathing was heavier than his. He noted a cane. The cane was made of gold and intertwined with ivory. It was ornately fashioned. From the base to the crook it was carved full of elaborate stories from Asgard's rich history. Stories that Loki knew by hear. It started with the blinding creation of light, the branches of Yggdrasil spreading far and wide throughout the cosmos, the Nine Realms forming. Each one of the realms was represented by a jewel that was placed inside the cane. Loki was mesmerized by the way the carvings seemed to dance and become animated. He watched the fledging tribes of Asgard start and develop until he saw them form into the ranks of Einar with their farming, mining, trading, sailing communities. Time trickled on he saw the civil war and the brutal feuding that took place amongst the Einar tribes, he then watched in that great moment when the whole of Asgard became one. One people under the 1st king. He watched the coronation. It was a grand ceremony with so much pomp and circumstance all the realms were in attendance and the Norns came out of hiding and blessed that day and conceded some of the eternal gifts of the cosmos to that man and he became not only king of Asgard, but called all-father as well. Still there was more, he watched the rise of Asgard as an empire. He watched their great cities being built. Each scene rose up higher and higher on the golden cane. He saw more epic battles. He saw more and more kings being crowned and more and more achievements that Asgard made in science and medicine and technology. He watched the rise and fall of each kingdom and each dynasty through the ages. He saw the birth of Bor, who so would consider Asgard's greatest king. He saw all the great thing that Bor had achieved. How the humans had adored him. How he had maintained the peace at a time when the worlds were about to erupt into chaos. The scenes played out before like an opera. He watched Bor marry and his wife, Bestia, give birth to a son. He saw that young prince grow, happy healthy and strong. He saw the wondrous battles that that prince was in. He watched his young life unfold in quick, but vivid snapshots. Until he too married and had and had a son. A bright, bubbly, bouncy, baby boy who was his pride and joy. He saw the powerful king go off away from his beloved son and beautiful queen to fight a war that would last nearly a century. He was surprised to find that that was wear his own life seemed to intersect into the narrative of the history of Asgard. He saw the king go into the ice temple and retrieve the foundling, take him from Jotunheim and back to Asgard and rear him as his own. And Loki was amazed to watch his own life play out side by side, simultaneously with the life of Asgard's crown prince. He saw their adventures and their misadventures, their quests and battles. He then saw the coronation that he ruined...he saw the battle on the rainbow bridge, he saw his descent into the void. He watched it all. Every moment that lead to here. The Final Scene was his fight with Sigyn. At least that was the final scene that had actually happened. The next part was shifty. The images weren't clear. But there was so little of the cane left. The hand rested on the crook and the very end of the crook and that was it.

Loki blinked. He finally pulled his eyes off of the mystical cane and made them focus on the bearer of such an accessory. The bearer wore sandals. The toes that stuck out from the sandals were weathered, dusty, old. The person was in a gown. But not elaborate dress or robe. It was simple, plain in design. As if it was made for lounging on sleep. It too was old and fraying. Perhaps it had once been made of regal material, but that was the past and this particular outfit was halfway moth eaten. He then brought his eyes to look at the hands that rested properly on the staff. Those hands were worn, they were wrinkled and leathery looking. The skin seemed to sag off of the bones. The coloring was off, sicky, and pale, the nails were broken. His eyes trailed up from the hands to wrists and then arms. They were male arm, but the arms were gaunt and thin, much like the hands there was a tone to them that showed that maybe once. They had been strong and faithful arm, but now they were weak and powerless. There was no muscle to them. They dangled off of the body like the broken limbs of a dead tree. He watched the way the person's shoulders heaved. It was up and down and the breathing came out in a terrible, haggard wheeze. The person was trembling miserably. The person coughed viciously. It was the dying cough of an old man. It caused the whole body to rattle and slump forward. He watched the man rock on his feet. Lastly, Loki took in the face. It was so wane. Drained of all color. The lips were swollen, but ashen in tone. The person only had one good eye. The other was scarred and sewn shut. The good eye could barely be labeled as such. The eye was somewhat hollow and sunken. Deep black rings encircled it. He could barely make out the faint sky blue of the iris. It was hardly blue. More of a steely, foggy grayish, like the sky after a twister passed by. It held unshed tears that mad the eye seem as if it was going to explode. The man had grizzly, thick gray brows, but his hair was a unique ghostly white with a few splintering hairs coming off as a most regal silver. He had a beard. It was full of patches, somewhat unkempt. All and all, Loki couldn't describe the man as clean. He looked like a vagabond and gypsy.

"Odin," Loki mouthed.

"Hello, Loki," the apparition spoke. The words came out slowly and calmly, but they seemed to be said with great effort. His dry lips cracked a smile.

"But...but...but..." the silver-tongued sputtered. "You're...you're...you're..." his hand shook as he pointed the ghastly fellow before him. He shook his head. "You're supposed to be dead," he found his tongue.

Odin looked around. He nodded. "Here," He slowly, timidly moved his right hand from resting upon the crook of the staff. He gave a weak smile. He hung his head. "I'm sure I am."

'Then how are you here?" Loki questioned. "Why are you here?" he practically demanded.

Odin chuckled. He rubbed his wrinkled hands together and looked around him. He looked at the ornaments of death that littered the town. "I'm here to see you," he responded and shrugged his hunched shoulders. Loki's blue nose curled. He scoffed. He shook his head and then lowered it. The elderly figure hobbled over toward the bell. He took a seat on the pedestal that elevated the instrument. He groaned and strained as he lowered himself onto the step. He gasped and rubbed his knees. He exhaled and mashed his lips together, he made noises like a creaking door. Finally, he gathered himself and placed the magnificent staff by his side. The bell's toll seemed to dull behind him. The remnants of one of the dead hung just over Odin's white hair head. The shiny, cloudy white of his thin gray hair was practically skimmed by one of the murky, black, skeletal shadows. The man sat down with a smile on his dry lips. His old hands reached to grab the little china doll that had been placed under the bell. He scooped it up and scrutinized it with his only eye. Then he danced and pranced the little toy about his knees just before he sat it up on his lap so that it's unblinking eyes faced the Frost Giant. He placed his folded palms in his lap and returned a smile in Loki's direction. He tried to move his stiff back so that he could sit up straight, but only managed to do so for a moment before he slumped forward with his shoulders rounding once more. "It's good to see you, Loki, my son."

Loki's head snapped up. His red eyes glared in Odin's direction. "Don't call me that!" he snapped with a wolf's teeth. "Never call me that!"

"Why?"

"Because I'm not your son! You're not my father," he stated vehemently. He felt himself tempted to fold his arms over his chest.

"I didn't say I was your father, that's your choice," he acknowledged. He nodded slowly. "I called you my son."

"I said, 'Don't call me that'" he barked once more.

Odin raised his hands in surrender. They were thin, dirty, wrinkled hands that shook. They looked like they had never held a sword before. "As you wish," he conceded. "I'll just call you, Your Majesty," he announced.

Loki huffed and snorted to this comment. He squared his own shoulders although he couldn't bring himself to get off of his knees. "That's more like it."

Odin just bobbed his head. "That's right. Hail to the king! Long live the king of Asgard," he uttered with slow claps.

Odin clapped for a little while, Loki's face twisted and pinched as he heard the thunderous applause of one. "Enough!" he shouted.

One last clap fell on Odin's hands. He smirked. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

"Why are you here?" Loki questioned once more.

"I've already told you, I came to see you."

He growled. "But how? How are you here?" he questioned out loud. "This is just a dream," he reasoned.

"Loki, this is no dream," Odin spoke sternly.

"It has to be," the Frost Giant ranted as he looked down at his hands. He relaxed and tightened them once again. "it's just a dream...it's just a nightmare...when...when...when...I wake up..." the words tumbled from his frosted lips. "You won't be there," Loki told himself as he pointed at Odin. "You're just a figment of my imagination." he told himself.

"Loki," the one-eyed man mumbled. His shaky hand reached out toward the Jotun.

'Don't touch me!" Loki hissed and drew himself in.

It had taken great effort for Odin to even lean forward and attempt to touch the little boy blue. He quickly withdrew his hand and had to hold his posture to keep from fall over. He sucked in a breath and gritted his teeth. He did his best to sit up. He swallowed the dryness in his mouth. "Son," he whispered.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" Loki screamed at the top of his lungs. His icy veins formed new bulging icy ridges in his blue skin. His vermillion eyes leaked with hot salty tears that stung on the way down. He looked up at Odin, his mouth dangling open, panting like some wild animal. He found the old leader trembling like a leaf from his outburst. When the old man managed to stop his quivering, he composed himself like a boy. He'd never known the old king to be boyish even in the old paintings and holos that he'd seen of him as a lad he held himself with an air of maturity, every inch a king. Odin clapped his mouth shut and sat patiently with his eyes down cast and his hands folded in his lap. Loki breathed deeply for a time. The echo of his bellow was still rattling the bones that hung from the nooses. His throat was raw from the scream. He sucked in the cool stale air that was all around and tried to allow it to cool his throat. He took a few more deep breaths. "Is this part of my illustrious gift?" he sneered. "To be settled with you?" he paused to catch his breath. "My everlasting torture?" he wondered more than truly asked. He started to laugh bitterly. He puzzled for a moment. "Are you a ghost sent to torment me?"

Odin raise his head and his eyes. A brittle laugh escaped the one who looked like he'd come back from the dead. 'Not just yet," he cautioned, "but with each passing moment I feel myself slipping away." he wheezed and wrapped his ratty cloak tighter around his thin frame.

"I am dead?" Loki asked with tremor in his crisp voice. He tried to make himself sit up straight so as not to appear so horrified by the notion. He patted down his bear flesh trying to make sure he wasn't fading away.

Odin was shaking like a leaf. Even just to raise his head made it seem as if he would faint. Still, he raised his head and looked the Frost Giant in the eye, "Not just yet."

Loki grimaced. "Am I going to die?"

"We will all die one day, Loki." the grizzled king answered.

"Give or take 5000 years," Loki replied under his breath. "You know what I mean!" Loki ground out. His attention snapped to staring at the old king. "Am I going to die here! Without fulfilling my destiny?" he demanded as he pointed to the soil.

"Destiny," Odin looked up toward the blank heaven. He smacked his lips as he tasted the air. "Destiny," he repeated. "destiny, is a funny thing. It is ever changing, ever in flux, but somethings are truly etched in stone," he nodded.

Loki grabbed his forehead. "What are you rambling about old man!" he spat. "Tell me, tell me Odin, all-father is this the place where I die?" he asked stretching out his hands.

"I am hardly the one who holds that title anymore."

"TELL ME!" Loki voice crackle like lightning.

"This is not a place of death," Odin informed.

The black-haired enchanter allowed a guffaw to bubble up from his throat. "Not a place of death?" he asked his voice cracked. "Look around!" he pointed out. "All that is around us is death! Everyone is dead! This whole town was wiped out. The little children," the Jotun's voice grew softer. His bottom blue lip started to quiver. He had to bite it to keep it from shaking so fiercely. "All the little children," he muttered as he picked up a handful of dark ash and gravel that was around his feet. He let it sift through his fingers. "They're dead." he looked up at Odin. "Everything is destroyed."

"I know." Odin dropped his gaze. He raised his hand and it brushed the toe of the skeleton that dangled above him. "Our people slaughtered in droves, for what?" he questioned.

"Not my people," Loki expressed as he gestured to his ice-blue body.

"Then why want to rule them so bad?"

"I didn't!" Loki snapped. "I only wanted to prove to you that I could! But that was foolish. The dream of a boy and it matters not now. What's done is done! The die is cast," he muttered.

"Indeed, the wheels of time are turning and winding up to the end and there is no reversing that which has already been done," Odin stated.

"is that it! Is that it then?' Loki asked. Suddenly, he quickly got a burst of energy and he sprang to his feet. "You brought me here didn't you! Didn't you!" he pointed a finger at the weak old man. "You mean to trap me here! You want to keep me from fulfilling my destiny! Don't you! Don't you?' he ranted. "You've always tried to prevent me from my destiny," Loki snarled like a rabid dog. "You plucked me from my home!"

"I saved you from freezing to death," Odin said breathlessly.

He balled up his fists and spoke furiously through his teeth, "You kept me from my kingdom!"

"I gave you a kingdom," Odin said through huffing breaths.

"A kingdom that made me feel like an outsider all my life. A kingdom that could never be mine to truly rule," he grumbled.

Odin shook his head weakly, "You and Thor could have ruled together," he said as he leaned heavily on his knees.

"Thor had no intention to share the throne with me. You knew that! You always knew that!"

"Thor would have listened to you. You would have always had his ear and he would have always heeded your counsel. I knew that and that was what I wanted..." Odin was winded. he rubbed his sides.

Loki cut him off. "You never wanted a Frost Giant on the Throne of Asgard. Haha, but now one sits upon the throne anyway. In your place!" he roared and in place of your son! Despite how you tried to debase me. I have risen," Loki raised his hands. "Your son rots in chains and I am about to bring new order to the cosmos," he rambled.

"You consider chaos order?"

"It's my order!" Loki hissed and pointed to himself. 'I've won! I've won!" he proclaimed. "I've beaten you and I've beaten Thor! I've taken what is mine. I've taken hold of my destiny! You can't stop me. You can't keep me trapped here forever! I'll get out of here! I'll escape! I always escape. Ragnarök cometh!" he prophesied.

Odin looked up in horror, "then you confirm it. You confirm that this is what you wanted. That this is what you truly have planned for the Nine Realms." Odin was doubled over. "I haven't trapped you here, Loki," Odin said through squeezed shut eyes as he held his sides.

"Then why am I still here? Why are you here? How are you here? What is this place?' Loki demanded. He paced back and forth and gripped his hair. His red eyes were wide and watery as he looked over at the old man in his sleeping gown. "How do I get out of here?" he questioned grabbing his head.

"One question at a time," Odin cautioned. He held his stomach, but raised one hands. "I can only...answer...one...at...a time," he said between gasps. "This is one of the realms between..."

A quizzical expression fell across the Frost Giant's face. "Realms between?"

A small grin graced Odin's chapped lip. "Master mage that you are Your Majesty, I'd think that you'd know one the Realms Between..."

The Jotun frowned. "Another dimension?" Odin couldn't bring himself to speak again. He merely nodded slowly. Loki shut his eyes and rubbed his finger over his top lip as he carefully considered the matter. He had traveled through the dimensions. He had walked the pathways through the other worlds without the help of the Bifrost. He had been one of few mages who had dared to attempt such a feat in more than 1000 years. He'd seen worlds no one in Asgard had ever dreamt of. Some wondrous. Some horrific, but he'd seen them. This was not one of those. It was a nightmarish place that much he knew, but how he had arrived there that was still a mystery. His memories were all at once distinct and foggy. he didn't really remember time passing. He remembered he and Sigyn fighting. He remembered Sigyn attacking him. She was all fury and rage, power and energy. He thought of the way her cheeks burned, her muscles tensed, her eyes were dilated and focused, her nostrils flaring., her touch heavy. Beauty. Poetry in motion. Like a feline on the hunt. It was amazing how something so small, so delicate, so pretty could all at once so lethal.

Loki shook himself forcing his mind to look pass sweet Sigyn in all her feverish beauty. He could scarcely remember how their little war had ended. He'd spared her. He could have killed her quite easily in fact if he would have so chosen, but he'd spared her. It was weakness, sentiment or was its strategy? He frowned. Force his attention to remember the night. He let Sigyn go. She was walking out the door. He was hovering over a coffee table, healing his wounds, not looking at the sobbing woman who left his room. Then he heard her footsteps. They picked up speed and she was running toward him. He'd started to turn around. It was too late, Lady Sigyn was already behind him. He felt something, hard and cold smack down with weight over top of his head. All at once splitting pain rushed through his cranium. He was dizzy, the room spun, he grabbed something to keep from falling. It didn't matter seconds later he was on the ground, still dizzy, head throbbing, vision sloshing about. He made out Sigyn's form, standing over him, shoulders heaving and arms over her head. Broken fragments of one of his favorite vases in her hands.

"Is this the Spiritual Dimension?" Loki questioned. The place of souls. When he'd studied with some of the old mystics and monks who worked at the universities some of them spoke of the realms where the souls resided after natural life had passed. The place where Valhalla and Helheim collided. If this was the Spirit World than surely, he had stumbled in to one of those dreaded pits of Helheim with tortures concocted freshly for him. Some mystics claimed to have traveled there, or to have met specters from the other side. Loki doubted such things were really possible, but he believed enough Valhalla, he believed in Helheim too because he'd lived through enough of it. Loki's heart started to pump fast. His pulse raced. "You said we weren't dead!" he barked snarling.

"We are not," Odin stated. Odin's eyes were closed and his lips were pursed. Even the few words seemed to sap him of all energy and his skins coloring paled just a little more. "Think harder," he managed to utter as he struggled for breath. His lips remained curled downward, but despite himself Loki took the advice of the old king and thought longer and harder about all he had learned, all he had studied over the years about the dimensions. he thought of the old book that he had stolen from the treasure trove of the Nornish King. He recalled the hours he had spent reading it. He could remember reading it like one remembers eating a favorite meal. He devoured good books. Lapped them up like a dog. His photographic memory flipped through the pages. He stopped on the pages that had taught him all about on the hidden pathways between the words. He could have licked his lips as he thought about how juicy it all was He moved on in his mind. The tomes pages tumbling against his fingers in his head. And then he came to it. That chapter about the most untapped dimension all of all.

His eyes widened just slightly as it dawned upon him. "Time," he breathed. Odin finally opened his eyes. "Time is the other dimension," he realized.

"Yes," Odin uttered with a raspy voice. "In the Oversleep, the all-father has the ability to see and hear all that transpires around him. So that he is aware of the fate of the kingdoms, he is aware of more in the state of Oversleep than he is when he is awake. But he may also go into the past in order to better understand events that have led to certain fates" Odin took a long drawn out breath. "He cannot change the past. He may only gain knowledge from it," he explained. His eyelids fluttered. "But on the rarest of occasions the all-father is granted the power to behold the future..."

Loki raised an eyebrow, "Are you saying that that is what this is...the future?"

"You know it to be true," Odin said as he made his gray pupil meet Loki's bright red eyes. He could see the fear of the known there.

Loki immediately shook his head. 'No. I don't know it to be true. It could just be a dream," he replied. "Just a wild dream," he nodded bobbing his head. "I'm unconscious and this is all a dream," he assured himself. "This is a dream," he grabbed his head. "You're a dream!" he accused.

"Loki, please child, you know I am no dream."

"I need to wake up! I need to wake up! I need to wake up!" he proclaimed. He started to beat himself like a wild-man. He took his hands and slapped himself in the face. Odin winced as he watched the pitiful display. "Why won't they let me wake?" he questioned tearfully. "I can't bear it anymore," he said looking up at Odin. The gray-bearded Asgardian's heart crumpled as he watched the way the blue skinned man wept. "I can't bear it," he said.

He reached for his cane and leaned heavily on it. "I know, neither can I, but come listen...time grows so short...so short..." he cautioned his voice so low and weak that it was hardly audible.

"I can't take it," Loki said rubbing his hands together. "There has to be a way out of this place, there simply has to be," he muttered rocking back and forth.

'There is, but you must listen, come," Odin beckoned. His words falling silent while his hand motioned.

'I know away," Loki's eyes were large. "There is away," he declared once more. He reached for his dagger again. It gleamed and shined so beautifully. He smiled up at the weapon his faithful weapon. His prized gift from Odin. "So glad you gave me these," he said with a mad man's grin plastered on his lips. 'They've come in so useful, so often," he muttered. Odin's one eye was wide and Loki could see the strain over the eye that was patched and stitched shut. The old man's breath with caught in his chest. He shook his head waved his hands as he watched the dagger slowly take a dangerous dive toward Loki's blue chest once more.

"NO!" he roared as he tore himself from the step and jumped into Loki's lap between him and the sharp blade. "No," he cried again as his wrinkled hands reached up to touch Loki's wrist. The slightest touch sent the former king shivering. He withdrew his hands immediately only to find them slightly reddened.

Loki gazed down momentarily at the old man. His stomach tied in knots and his breath held tightly as he waited to see the damage he had done. He let out a sigh when he saw how the redness was not so intense. "Crazy old fool!" Loki spat. He stood to his feet and allowed the elderly Aesir gentleman to melt from his lap. Odin collapsed into a heap on the floor. He still shivered and rubbed his frostbitten fingers. "Don't interfere with my justice!" Loki snapped as he hovered over the old man. His icy body was all sharp angles.

"Loki...no...please..." he muttered through chattering teeth. He curled himself into a crouch and placed his unburned hand onto Loki's black boot. He tugged on the hem on his pants leg.

"You're always standing in my way!" His voice rippled. "Always keeping me from what is mine! Enough!" he roared as Odin shuddered. "This is what I'm doing. Do you here, for me! Because this is what I want to do! I'm going to be king!" He proclaimed his jaw flinching.

Odin's eyes drooped as he tried to push himself to his knees. "it's...it's...it's...not...what...you want," he whispered looking up at the Jotun. "And even if it is," he murmured, "I can't watch you do it," the father of Thor said as he finally pushed himself off the ground. He rose to unsteady legs that wobbled.

"Just watch me," he proclaimed. He twisted the dagger in his fingers once more. Odin ran up on him once more and attempted to grapple the weapon out of his hands. He was once again touching Loki's flesh, there was a searing freeze that took place upon contact. His face contorted, her gritted his teeth, tears welled up in his old gray eye, but he didn't let go. His hands that had once been so strong felt weak as those of a child. Those hands that had been rock solid and wielded the mighty scepter, and had held weapons of unimaginable power and had rescued so many were scarcely able to hold on. Odin did his best to pull and tug on Loki's hand trying to force the dagger out of it. Loki sharply pulled in the opposite direction. Odin marveled at his strength. "Let go!" Loki protested through gritted teeth. "Let go, old man!" Loki demanded.

"No," Odin countered shaking his head.

Loki blew out the side of his mouth he had enough of fiddling with the old man. He gave a strong yank and tore his arm from Odin's flimsy grasp. His hand broke free with the dagger and Odin's hand slid off without much protest. The wizened ruler's fingers slipped his arms flailed and he sliced his palm on the blade of the weapon. He screamed out. It was an old grizzled scream like the bellows of a dying bear. He lost his balance and fell upon the rocks. His spine struck the platform. His image flickered. Like all at once he was there and then he wasn't and x-ray of his skeletal system flashed before Loki's eyes. He caught a momentary glimpse of all of Odin's broken bones and internal injuries. When his form finally stopped flickering and settled. He was nearly translucent.

Instinctively, while he watched the old man tumble his arms stretched out to try to catch him. He wanted to cry out, say something, ask something. His heart pounded. Odin seemed so fragile like a piece of ice that he could easily shatter into a million pieces. He was barely there. Immediately, Loki reminded himself of all the pain that this man had caused him. He stomped over to where Odin trembled. "Fine!" he snarled. His cold hands reached toward the frail once all-father of Asgard and he gripped him by the collar of his tattered tunic. Loki's icy muscles flexed as he hoisted Odin's body off of the ground. He picked him up like he was a sack of feathers. He slowly dragged the old king closer toward him. They were face to face, but Odin's gray-haired head, flopped back on his shoulders. "Maybe I should just kill you instead!" Loki offered. His eyes bloody, his mouth practically salivating. His ran his tongue over his sharp white teeth and wore a diabolical grin on his blue face. He breathed heavy, cold breath like a winter wind whipping down from the mountains on Odin's face. He raised his dagger once more. It glistened and gleamed. Odin's eye followed the knife's point. Loki lowered his blade. He growled and gritted and put the blade toward Odin's throat. He bore his teeth. "Beg!" he ordered. Odin's eye batted and Loki watched as his body flickered turning nearly ghostly he practically was holding the old man's bones. "BEG!" he shouted once more. "Think you that I'll spare your life, like you spared mine?" He asked nose crinkling. "Look how the tables have turned, might Odin, now you're in the place of death all alone and your fate is in my hand!" he growled. "Think you that I'll be so kind, so compassionate, so magnanimous?" he cackled. "Beg!" he barked again. He didn't beg. Well if he was too stubborn to beg he was more than happy to allow him to die a warrior's death at the hands of an enemy.

His hand starting shaking. His eyes blinking to hold back tears, his breath coming quickly. He dropped the elderly man back to the ground. "Why? Why?" Loki asked angrily. "Why do you try to stop me now?" He demanded as he stepped closer. Odin was still on his back white as a sheet. His hand was shaking and it was terribly burned it was all blue and purple and stiff. He couldn't even hardly flex his fingers, red blood gushed from his palm. Loki shook his head as he looked at the man struggling for life. "Why this time?" He yelled. "Why didn't you try to stop me when I was hanging off the Bifrost, clinging to Gungnir for dear life, begging you?" he asked, hot liquid rolling down his cheeks.

Odin's lips moved, but he could scarcely get a word out. His eyelids batted rapidly. His lips started to turn gray, "couldn't...watch...you...die...again," he breathed.

Loki shook his head, he was cackling and crying at the same time. "Why care now?"

"I...cared...then."

"You wanted me dead, then didn't you? Didn't you?" he demanded.

"Never," Odin's one eye widened.

"Yesyoudidyesyoudid!" he balled up his fist. "You were glad to be free of me! Weren't you! You were sick of having to treat a monster's foundling like a son. Sick of keeping wild animals in the palace."

"No, no," Odin waved his frost-bitten bloody hand. His voice sluggish.

"Yes, yes!" Loki stomped his foot. "I was always a disappointment to you, wasn't I? A failed experiment, an ingrate peasant. I was never like Thor...your perfect son... never like you!" he shouted.

"Never...disappointed...in the...real you...Loki," Th eking tried to explain as he body flickered again.

"Lies! Lies! LIES!" Loki shouted. "You were! You were! I told you I had done everything for you and you told me "no"" he annunciated as his thin lips quivered. "You found me so unfit to even be king of the Jotuns,"

"No...to...the actions...not to you," Odin explained in a breathy voice. He took a slow deep breath. "You are... brilliant, powerful, compassionate, brave, fun...full of mischief..." Odin reported. Loki's mouth hung open and he shook his head. Odin rolled to his side and managed to get himself in a somewhat sitting position. With all his strength he tried to speak. "I never sent you back to Jotunheim, because I couldn't bear you gone. I didn't want you gone. This was your home... we raised you...I love you, son. I thought of you every day after you fell. I clung to hope that you could be alive. I blamed myself for what happened to you. know I'm responsible for what you have become. I could have been a better father to you, "Odin looked down and then looked up, h eye misty. Pleading.

The Jotun's shoulder heave. "You think that that changes anything? It's too late! It's too late!" he shouted back as he waved his dagger around. "I'm going back to Asgard! I'm getting out of Bedlam," he spat and looked around wildly. "I'm taking hold of my destiny," he proclaimed as his blue fingers gripped tighter around the knife.

"Loki!" Odin called out shrilly. "If you chose the path of a coward..."

"Path of a coward? Path of a coward?" Loki tossed his head back and forth as he scoffed. "Yes, because an Aesir Warrior should die fighting, well I'm not Aesir and we all know I am no warrior, I 'm a Frost Giant and Trickster, but I 'm no coward...no coward could endure the things I endure in the Void. The things Thanos did to me Odin...even your prized princeling wouldn't have survived," he warned.

"I know, I know," Odin's words came out rapidly. "The things he did to you were unspeakable. The horrors you've suffered...I know...I know, he twisted you and corrupted you and made you something you weren't and now you are on his warpath."
"This is what I want!" Loki roared. "I want a throne..."

"If you stay on this course you'll only have a throne Loki, but you'll never have a kingdom, you'll never have love and respect and true power, "Odin said his voice he just a whisper.

"I don't care," Loki ground out.

"Yes, you do. I know you do. You are a good..."

"NO, I"M NOT!" the Frost Giant railed. "I am wicked and evil and vile and every manner of horrible you can imagine. I am the destroyer of your world and I am bringer of Ragnarök. It's too late to stop me. But never fear dear Odin, my Asgard will be even more grand than yours or the Asgard of your forefathers."

"No," Odin shook his head. "Loki, I know that is what you want. What you truly want is to be a great king...but Loki if you don't stop this...this... all that you have seen shall come to pass" he warned.

"Lies!" Loki spat. "Lies like you always tell," he gripped his blue ears.

"Loki I would never lie to you,"

Loki looked up at the old man laughing. "You lied to me every day of my life!"

"I told you that you were born to be a king. That was true. I told you that you were my son, that will always be true," the old man muttered.

Loki hissed, sucked his teeth, rolled his eyes, waved his hands dismissively at the old king. "You don't know the future, Odin, you're no seer," he reminded the one eyes man as he straightened his posture.

"No, you're right," His head bowed. "I am not, but your mother is." he stated and looked up. "She foresaw this day. Of course, she didn't understand it then. She had a vision of myself and Laufey in a great battle and that battle leading to Ragnarök. She had that vision way before she knew me. She was plagued by the dream. haunted by it for months and months until she finally had no choice but to create the tapestry to free herself from the nightmare. Centuries past. She forgot. But the vision has slowly come to pass in ways she would have never known," he shook his head.

"Of course," Loki let out a bitter chuckle, 'Son of Odin, Son of Laufey locked in an epic battle."

"Yes," he said with regret.

"If it was already weaved into the tapestries than our fates are sealed." Loki reported.

"Your mother went into the sanctum and ripped the tapestries," Odin reported.

"What? "the Jotun looked aghast. He could not imagine Frigga doing something like that. She had taught Thor and he the ways of the ancients, she had read them the old text and given them a respect for the role of the Fates and the Norns. She believed in destiny strongly, because of her gift of prophecy. Why would she do that?

Odin read his thoughts. "To save the Nine Realms, to save Asgard, to save...you "Odin could scarcely breathe.

"But that's impossible! "Loki protested.

Odin's chapped lips cracked and formed a soft grin, "Oh Loki you should know nothing is impossible if you believe. Your mother believes that there is still a chance for us and the Fates must believe it too, but Loki with every passing moment you bring us closer to not being able to change this grim future..."

"I DON'T BELIEVE!" he shouted. "I don't believe this is real. It's just a dream," he declared.

Odin forced himself to rise up on his weak legs. He managed to stand, but he couldn't force his feet to take a step. 'You know it to be true," his voice was soft, but there was a command to it. "The Fates have given you a chance Loki! A chance to right the wrongs you have done. A chance to keep us from this. Don't slap their hand away," Odin warned.

"Why are you here then?" Loki asked with his blue hands clenched into trembling fists.

The elderly ruler swayed on his feet. He was soon back on the ground. He held his side. Mashed his lips together. His frame turning once more see-through. 'I am fading, "he explained. "I am fading from this life Loki. Asgard is dying and as all-father I am connected to her. As she dies so do I. It is obvious that I have no place in the future," He said looking around with a misty eye. Loki felt his heart stop. Odin offered a weak smile. he coughed blood tricked from his mouth. "Maybe the fates wanted me to see my failings. See where my shortcomings as king have led the Nine realms and my people," He panted he wiped the blood from his lips on to find more than he bargained for. Tears rolled from his one eye.

Loki closed his bleeding eyes. "You were a good king, "he said through gritted teeth.

"But a lousy father," Odin admitted.

Loki swallowed, 'Odin...I... I"

He held up his head. He choked once more and red spittle spewed from his lips. "Your mother whispered to me while I was in the Oversleep that it was if I have given up on you... "he explained trying to compose his coughing. "I admit I did for a time. I still can't believe the things you did, "he said and Loki looked away. "But your mother thought that if you knew that I still believe in you that I still thought there was good in you...maybe it would be enough..." he attempted to smile.

"Well it's not," Loki uttered with a straight face.

Odin exhaled through his nostrils. He started to chuckle with each guffaw more and more of his skeleton was revealed through flesh. "I know," he nodded. "I know you hate me. I don't blame you, but do you truly hate All of Asgard, all the realms your friends, Frigga and Thor and Lady Sigyn, you child so much that you would allow this to happen?"

"Child? Loki gasped his eyes widened. "You know," Odin grunted a reply.

"Do you hate them Loki?" he asked. He was pleading now. He was sobbing. "Do you only wish death and pain for them?"

Loki turned around his own eyes watering. He was quiet for a moment. Odin kept asking questions about the people. "No, " finally he whispered a reply. "But I don't know how to stop. I don't know how to change my fate,' he explained as he turned back around to Odin.

"You have to slay the dragon," Odin stated sternly.

"Me?" the blue man pointed to himself in disbelief. "I can't! It's too powerful. You've seen what it is capable of."

"You are the only one who can!" Odin proclaimed.

"I'm not strong enough! It has to be you or Thor..." Loki refuted he shook his head.

"Me," Odin laughed. "Look at me," he pulled on his threads and exposed his see-through body. And Loki did look at him. he looked at the man who everyone adored and the man who defended his people with all of his might and he saw him slipping away. "I have nothing left."

"But Thor," Loki countered breathlessly, hopefully.

"He is too weak, you have seen him this world has beaten him down... and his present self is not here. You have been brought here. This is your destiny...You are meant to fight him, "

"I'll lose," He shook his head. He wrung his hands. "The dragon is too strong. He defeated all the armies of Asgard, he's defeated the realms what chance do I have?"

"If you don't try then we have all already lost, "Odin expressed. A tremor shot through Odin. His body blinked and flickered. Loki please," the old man cried as he fell to his knees. "There isn't much time...dawn approaches...then it's too late," he told him. "Loki, please...listen to our people...hear their cries...save them!" he begged. And Loki did listen. He heard the mournful melancholy song rising in the background. he heard the Voices of His mother and brother and his friends and Singing all rising up and singing in his ear. Each of their voices loud and distinct and strong and true and desperate. And for the first time he was able to sing along. He did. His sang out long and loud and true. His voice shook his body quivered. His hot red eyes filled with tears that could not be held back they ran like waterfalls down his cheeks. "Don't you see Loki, our fates lie with you. The people cry out for a hero," Odin said as he cupped his hand over his ear.

"I'm no hero," Loki replied.

"Your our only hope," Loki entreated him. "Listen! Can't you hear them?' he asked earnestly.

"yes," Loki nodded his silver-tongue felt like lead. "I hear them all," he wept.

"Sing,"Odin bid him. He sang verse after verse. Finally, he felt delicate hands slip and take his.

He opened his eyes and saw Odin standing face to face with his holding his hands. A smile broke forth on Loki's lips. He fell into the man's bony arms and sunk to his knees while he wrapped his body around him. He clung to the old king like a frightened child. He clung and nuzzled and hummed and sang while his tears soaked against Odin's chest. 'I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!" he sobbed. Odin's fingers trailed through his raven mane. He held him and rocked him. "I'm so sorry," he wept. 'I never meant for all this to happen. I never wanted it to go this far," he blubbered as he looked up at Odin. "I just wanted you to notice me," His red eyes shined as he gazed into Odin's ancient face.

"It's alright," Odin told him.

"I can't change what I've done," Loki said as he looked up at him with tearful eyes.

"No one can change the past Loki. I'm asking you to change the future, "Odin whispered.

"When this is over, how will I know it was real?" Loki asked helplessly.

Odin presented him with the staff. "It's is one of the relics of the all-father, you are king now," he shrugged. "it is yours," he said and he proffered it. Loki shook his head. He felt unworthy now of the title king of Asgard. "Take it," Odin said gently. "So, you know," he whispered. "My time grows short, Loki," he stated his embrace not as strong.

Loki clung to him. "Father, don't leave me!" he begged.

Odin traced ghost fingers along the noble cobalt jawline. "Take me in," he started to sing. His voice weak and cracking.

Loki joined him. he nodded vigorously. "My dream recurring," they sang in unison.

"I love you, Loki" He whispered as he pressed a kiss against his forehead. He then pushed away and got up and started to walk. Odin took a few steps a and Loki watched as slowly his body started to disappear. He looked over his shoulder and smiled.

"One more longing backward glance!" Loki sang.

A/N: WOOOHOOO! You made it! Take a breather and give yourself a round of applause. I know that was a looooong one, but I hope it was worth it. You journeyed long and hard with this chapter and if your read all the way through than you deserve to leave a review! So don't be shy, hey i write this for you! We are right around the corner from the conclusion of this story so this is your chance to tell me what you think before it's all over!