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?

50. Wake Me Up When It's All Over

HELLLLLLOOOOO READERS! OMG HAPPY NEW YEAR! MERRY CHRISTMAS! HAPPY THANKSGIVING! I am soooooooo-oooooo-oooooo sorry that it has been soooooooo long since I updated. I missed celebrating all the holidays with you guys. But the busyness of the holiday season and just some craziness in my personal life (I got a new job!) I just didn't have that much time to devote to writing. Such a shame, but I never forgot about you readers or the story. I thank you so much for your dedication and encouragement to me as a writer. You will never know how much it means. This chapter was extremely difficult to write as I consider it the emotional climax of the story. I hope I was able to do it justice. Well you've waited long enough. So no more gilding of the lily, without further ado I give you chapter 50! Happy reads and writes and above all else...God Bless each and every one of you.

Chapter 50

Her breath came out quickly, in rapid puffs. Her heart was a tom-tom drum and she could feel it in her throat. Sweat was plastered to her face and it mixed with the dirt and blood that was painted on it as well making and murky, red mud. Her back was hunched over, slightly. Her arms were raised as she loomed over the figure on the floor. Her arms were shaking. She'd been holding her hand in that raised position for quite a while. It seemed like her body was frozen stiff. her eyes darted back and forth observing the body and then looking up at the broken pieces of evidence in her hands.

She couldn't believe what she had done. If someone would have told her that she had done it she wouldn't have believed them, but there she was standing in the center of Loki's chamber sitting room. Her hand was still holding on to the golden handles of a priceless antique vase. One that had probably been in the royal family for generations. One that had probably been procured at a high price. Maybe it had been a gift from some foreign dignitary. The vase had been heavy. It stood to nearly the height of her hips and it was crafted from sturdy ceramics and coated with gold. She doubted given normal circumstances she would have even been able to get the vase to budge an inch off of the rug. It must have been all adrenaline that had enabled her to raise it over her head and slam it down swiftly over Loki's head.

Her arms twitched and she felt the slight sting from the fatigue in her muscles from holding the pose for so long. She slowly lowered her arms and evaluated the broken pieces of the artesian pottery that was in her hands. She felt a twinge of guilt for destroying something so beautiful and so fine. Everything beautiful and golden was at risk of being destroyed that night. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that this priceless porcelain vase was a small price to pay if it would save billions of lives. Quickly, she tossed the broken pieces of the vase to the floor. She looked at her hands. They were shaking and they were red and swollen and a then trail of blood ran from the center of her palm and down her dirty, scratched and scarred and bruised arm. She winced finally feeling the sharp shooting pain from where the vase's cracked parts had dug into her flesh.

She took deep breaths and tried to compose herself. All at once she recalled what she was doing in Loki's bedchamber and why she had been holding the rare vase in her hands in the first place. Her pulse started to race and quicken. Her blood raced through her veins. Once more her heart returned to beating furiously. She felt like it would simply burst through her chest or it would just give out and stop beating. She remembered what she had to do, why she was there. "Loki," she breathed his name. All at once her eyes narrowed. She ground her teeth, snarled and snorted. Her golden eyes narrowed until they were nothing but slits. She was there to stop him. She absolutely had to stop him. She had to stop him at all costs. And stop him at all costs she would. No matter what it took. No matter what it meant. She'd tried to use diplomacy. Loki was always one who was so reasonable and logical. He preferred battles of words to weapons of warfare. She'd been so convinced that she could appeal to his better senses, his higher nature, but it hadn't worked.

Lady Sigyn had convinced herself that this letter was Loki's salvation. She hadn't even read the letter, but she knew in her heart that when Loki found out the truth about his child that something in him would snap. That he would come back to being the wonderful prince that he was or at least that she thought that he was. Sigyn's breathing started to grow harder and more intense. She drove her teeth into her pink lips and tasted the dirt and blood. She shook her head and she started to feel moisture forming in her eyes. She couldn't believe how he hadn't cared about the fate of his own child. He truly was a heartless monster. Then...then he had even had the nerve as to just lie and say that the baby was dead. She growled, knowing what he meant to say was that the baby was good as dead to him. The child might as well have been dead for all he cared. She almost wished that the scroll really had said that the baby was dead. Not because she liked the thought of an innocent little life being snuffed out, but at least it wouldn't have been Loki's choice. At least it would have just been Fate. But this wasn't fated. it wasn't destiny it was just whims of a coldhearted sorcerer. She snarled as she thought of his indifference. How could he truly not care about his own baby? Her heart broke. She didn't know why she was in such shock. She didn't know why...why she had thought that he'd be any different. He was a bad man. He had always been and everyone had told her that he was for years and years. Yes, he was a wicked man and she was just a dimwitted girl. She felt foolish. She felt like the biggest fool in the entire Nine Realms.

Sigyn's lips curled into a terrible snarl. She had gambled the entire fate of the Nine Realms on a scroll that she hadn't even read. "I'm such a fool, I'm such a fool!" she chided herself as she grabbed her forehead. Hot tears pricked behind her amber eyes. "That's all I've ever been! That's all I've ever been for you!" She shouted and pointed at the unconscious dictator. "I've always been a fool for you! I've always been stupid," she spat. "I wanted to believe that it was some type of spell that you had put me in that had made me so blinded to everything you were and everything that you are," she rambled. Loki had told her that she had never been under any spell. That hurt her even more. It meant that she was just a gullible and naïve woman who was so desperate for a fairytale romance that she had ignored all the signs that had always been around her. "Everyone told me," she turned around she thrust her hands down by her side in balled up fists. "Everyone told me what you were!" she expressed. 'They told me what you were since the beginning!" she shouted as she recalled all the things that the courtiers used to say behind closed door about the dark prince of Asgard. They'd tell her how he was a coward and a scoundrel and a liar and a cheat and how he was harsh and vindictive and spiteful and cruel, but she had always refuted them, never believed them. But look where that had gotten her. Look where that had gotten everybody. "They told me that you were mean and rotten to the core," she shook her head. She thought of all the things that courtiers told her during the time that she was courting Loki. Mostly, she had suspected that the maidens at court were just jealous that they weren't so fortunate as to court a prince of Asgard. The men she figured were simply angered that she was off the market for the moment. She had always been popular with the men at court. So, she'd dismissed everything they'd said. She never heeded their words. Look where that had led her.

"They told me that this would never it was a fool's errand," she spat. "But I kept believing," she expressed as she shook her head. She thought about Rana. Her sister had endangered her own life traveling on the back roads to return her to the Imperial City. Rana who had risked their father's wrath in order to help her complete this futile mission. And her father's wrath was something to be feared. She thought of her father, Admiral Arn. She thought of the way he had raged like a volcano. He blustered and fumed and blew up until he was all red in the face and his eyes were bulging out of their sockets and all the blood vessels in his veins looked like they would burst. She could hear his screams and shouts in her ears. He had told her how foolish and ignorant she was and how evil Loki was and how it was a waste of her time believing in him. And he was right. She could still feel his strong, rough hands wrapped around her forearms and he shook her like a rag doll. At the moment she had been horrified that her father would shake her to death and addle her brain. Her brain was already addled for having put any faith in Loki for believing that he could ever change. "I kept thinking and hoping and believing that there was good in you!" she announced to the still figure on the floor. "When we courted," she began as she placed her hand to her breasts "I...I...I felt like the luckiest woman in the Nine Realms. I felt so honored to be with you. I saw you as wise, and honorable and virtuous. I saw you as smart and brave and strong. You were perfect to me," she admitted shrugging her shoulders. "I came all this way just knowing that that man was still in you. I came all this way just knowing that you could change back into that person! Knowing that deep inside you still had some heart," she expressed. "But you don't! You don't! YOU DON"T!" Sigyn hollered in a voice so loud that it made the crystal teardrops on the chandelier tingle and clank together. She grabbed at her dirty hair. Hair that was a bright, platinum blonde, but was so caked with mud and grime that it looked like it was practically brown. The tears came quicker, they streaked down her cheeks and did their best to wash away the mud and sludge that was lodged on her face.

Her large golden eyes hardened as she looked down at the self-proclaimed king of Asgard. "You don't have a heart," she confessed softly. "I guess Frost Giants only have no heart, only a hole in their chest that pumps out ice," she spoke harshly. "Your heart is ice," Sigyn stated firmly as she nodded to herself. "Your HEART IS ICE!" she turned back around and shouted to the man who didn't move a muscle. "Look at what you've done!" she railed. She pointed at his balcony window. "Asgard is burning! The Imperial City is going up in flames!" she shouted. "Malekith and the Dark-Elves are sleeping the beds of the nobles of Asgard while the Aesir hide in an underground hovel and Thor is tied up in chains in the dungeon," she recounted. "And for what? What? You're bringing Ragnarok and death and destruction to all of the Nine Realms and for what? For what? For what?' Sigyn questioned as she threw her hands up in the air. "Because you want a throne?'" she snapped as she threw two sarcastic quotation fingers in the air. "Because you want to rule?" she demanded. "You want to beat Odin and beat Thor and prove yourself so much mightier than them? You hate the world so much that you would do this?" she continued to question that madman who was lying still face down, with his cheek pressed against his plush emerald carpet. "I don't understand?" Lady Sigyn continued to run as she marched around Loki's body. She took big stomping steps and bent down low to shout in his ear. "Why is all that you have to give hate?' she demanded of him. "Why is all that you want simply wickedness?" she asked with horror written on her face. "You knew love!" Sigyn Arndottir proclaimed to him. "You knew love, Loki," she said quietly as she bobbed her head and bit into her lip. "You had love," she warned him as she raised a shaky finger and brought it to her chapped lips. "Queen Frigga loved you!" she told him. "She loved you the way only a mother could," she started to explain. "At your funeral when they were about to set your helmet and tunic on fire, she came rushing, rushing up to the pyre and snatched your helmet by the horns from the flames. We, her ladies-in-waiting were so worried about her. We were scared that she would burn her royal fingers. We tried to grab her and pull her back, but we could not. She ripped herself from our hands and snatched up your helmet anyway, she clutched it toward her bosom and wept in a ball on the floor before all," Sigyn reported. "She loved you," Sigyn stated with tears in her eyes. "She may love you more than anyone in the world ever could and you are destroying her. You might as well stab her through the heart."

"Thor loved you!" Sigyn went on. "You knew he loved you!" she pointed out. "You knew it, you knew how much he cared about you and you used it against him!" she accused. "And you used it to destroy him," she ground out through gritted teeth. "He was a good big brother to you. You two were close," he shoulders shrugged up and down. "He'd never let any harm come you and you knew it! You knew it, you knew it! You knew he'd give up his powers to protect you when he thought you were in danger. He was willing to give up his entire kingdom for you! He was willing to give up the Nine Realms and allow Ragnarok if it meant keeping you alive for one more moment. He felt so alone with you gone. He couldn't bear it anymore, he couldn't go through it again. What greater proof of love did you need?" he questioned water gathered in her eyes. "I bet you never even noticed that he got your symbol carved into his armor," she pointed out. "Did you! Did you!" she hissed. "But it's there beautifully crafted, a simple accessory, but I noticed it right away," she explained.

"Your father, the all-father, king of Asgard, he mourned you. He ordered days of fasting so that the kingdom could properly grieve the loss of their prince. There was no feast held out the palace for months. And every day he commissioned soldier after soldier, Valkyrie and Einherjar alike to go and search the Nine Realms for any trace of you. He was going to have a statue commissioned in honor of you!" she explained. She marched around Loki's limp body and scolded him. "You don't believe, but I saw the drawings, the samples...they were beautiful. The only reason that they didn't start construction was because he was never satisfied with the likeness of the image. He wanted it to be perfect. I heard him," Sigyn paused for a minute and pointed to herself. "I heard him say, " she cleared her throat and deepened her voice as best she could. 'Not good enough, Master Builder, this is a pillar to last to my son's legacy for all time and it needs to be perfect so that it can stand beside my father,'" she finished doing her best impression of the all-father. "They were going to build a new university in your honor. Public, to be free for all the people of Asgard to come and study at...your father knew how much it meant to you that access become more accessible, not just for the rich," she stated. "But you never thought that anyone was paying attention to you. Maybe the all-father didn't show you all the love and support the way you wanted. Maybe he made some mistakes. But you know he tried and he listened to you. He loved you."

"Your friends..." Sigyn paused her voice started to quiver. "They remembered you. They would toast to you," she expressed. "They honored you the best way they could. I know each and every one of them felt guilty about what happened to you. They felt like it was there fault. That maybe they teased you too much or disrespected you. They considered you their friend. You don't know how to be a friend! You are no Man'ss friend. You are everyone's enemy!" Sigyn let out a ragged scream. "You're my enemy," she uttered coldly as she looked down at him with disdain. She clenched her fist. "YOU'RE AN ENEMY OF ASGARD!" she yelled again. "And you were supposed to be her prince," she finally composed herself and sniffled.

"Lady Dagmar loved you," Sigyn confessed in a soft voice. She rolled her eyes upward toward the heavens. She batted them and tried to blink away the tears. "She did," Sigyn nodded. She sucked in a sharp breath and closed her eyes a silver tear slipped from underneath her eye. "I know what you'll say," Sigyn began a bitter laugh erupted from her throat. "You'll say some love she had for you after the things she put you through," she mocked Loki's voice as well. She made her voice as aristocratic as possible. "But she did. She did love you," Sigyn nodded to confirm her words. "Love is scary, you know?" she muttered. Then she looked down at Loki, his body still lied motionless on the ground. "No, of course, you wouldn't know," she snarled at him. "You've never loved anybody! Don't bother to say that you did because you didn't! I thought you had some love in you, but you don't," Sigyn continued to shake her head. "But sometimes when you're in love you say and do stupid things," Sigyn informed him. "I would know," she admitted. She rubbed her hands together. " Maybe Dagmar made some mistakes, but we all make mistakes when we're in love," she told him. "Look at me," she gestured to herself. "I'm the biggest fool love ever formed," she laughed at herself. "But Dagmar did love you. She loved you enough to keep your child!" Sigyn shouted. "She kept the baby, she could have destroyed it. But she loved the babe and cherished it as her last gift from you. She was even willing to marry a man she didn't love to keep your child alive, to keep his true identity from being discovered so that the baby could grow up in a good strong family with honor attached to his name. That's real love!" Sigyn ranted. "Don't you see?" she demanded of him. His unconscious body didn't even stir no matter how much he shouted. "Course you don't!" she spat. "For all your gifts you are so blind and have always been blind to all the things that you have always had."

"You said you loved her," Sigyn started, she shook her head and bit deep into her lip. "But it is because of you that she is dead! You killed her! You killed her!" Sigyn accused. Her voice was raw and ragged as she screamed out her accusation. She stomped her feet like a toddler having a tantrum, her tangled mesh of dirty blonde locks flew all over her head. "You killed her!" she choked out one more terrible sob as she held her heart. "It wasn't Malekith," she shook her head. "It wasn't the Kursed," she stated firmly. "It was you!" her voice shook with anger. "She was a young woman! She was in her prime," Sigyn went on. "And she was beautiful," Sigyn gave a wistful sigh. She thought of Dagmar, how fair she was. In the eyes of some, she may have been considered fairer than she. In the eyes of Loki, she had always been the fairer. Hair like ebony waves that cascaded down her back, Skin soft and pale a porcelain. Her lips sat on her face like pomegranates. Her eyes shined with all the beauty of the stars in the sky. There were times when she wished not to look on Dagmar for in her she saw all that she could never be. She wished she could see her friend's face again. She wished that she could hear her laughing. They hadn't necessarily had a lot in common except the love they had shared for the same man. "She was glorious!," Sigyn remembered. "You could have had a good life together," Sigyn pointed out wagging her finger. "You could have gone on and maybe in time if you would have reformed your ways, the all-father would have let you out of your cell. Perhaps he would have only banished you," Sigyn's voice grew quiet and still. "You could have lived in Vanahiem, in Vanaheim, the mages are of the most respected class. Maybe you could have become Prime Minister or held some high office in the court of the king of the Vanir," Sigyn shrugged. A small smile crawled across her chapped lips. "You could have found your baby," she suggested, "raised the child...made more babies," her smile broadened and she even giggled a bit. "You could have practiced your craft...the two of you together...you could have been the most beloved couple in all of Vanaheim," she reported. "You could have had a good life together I'm sure," Sigyn mashed her lips together. Her voice was starting to trembled and she had to swallow several times to regain her composure. She was sure that Loki and Dagmar could have gone on to live a life that was worthy of fairytales. A life that she had only dreamed about living with, Loki. It was a life that Loki had never wanted to share with her. Sigyn felt her heart crack just a tiny bit. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, but it wasn't for herself. She didn't even feel sorry for herself. She only felt sorry for Lady Dagmar. Had Dagmar had an imaginary fairytale life with Loki too. Now she couldn't dream at all. Sigyn found her voice. It came out stronger, "You killed her." she announced. "You with your hate and your lust power! You were willing to destroy her to get what you wanted. "What about what she wanted?" Sigyn demanded. "Huh? What about what Lady Dagmar wanted!" She screamed. She bent over and screamed in Loki's ear. "You didn't see her face," she muttered. "You didn't see how happy she looked when I handed her the scroll that held the truth about your child. A smile was on her face as bright as day," Sigyn state a grin took over her own mouth. "Her eyes they shimmered like stars...at the thought...at the hope..." the golden-haired Aesir woman's voice broke. "She wanted to know the baby! She wanted to see your child," Sigyn finger shook violently. But you took that away from her...you didn't even give her the chance to know whether or not her child was born! She wanted to know, Loki! She wanted to know! She cared. And you took that away from her!" the queen's lady-in-waiting clawed at her own hair and covered her face. "You took that away from her," Sigyn's face wore a terrible scowl. "For what?" she spat. "To get a throne! To call yourself a king," her voice was curt. "Well you've gotten everything you've wanted, Your Majesty," Sigyn dipped into a curtsy but her reddened amber eyes glared daggers at the self-proclaimed all-father who was draped in all his finery. "At the expense of a woman who loved you at the expense of your family at the expense of everyone!"

"This baby could have loved you, Loki!" Sigyn protested as she waved the scroll over the back of his head. "It would have loved you, Loki, I just know it" Sigyn stated firmly. "Children always love their parents," she reminded him. "Some say that the love of a child is the most beautiful love there is," Sigyn clutched the scroll tightly. She smiled at the thought of a baby in arms that would look like Loki. She imagined tiny little hands reaching up toward her and dancing green eyes that were only locked on hers. A little baby with a toothless grin that was reserved just for her. "I adored my father as a child. I hung on his words. Took them to heart. I idolized him. He was my hero. My best friend when I was little I didn't think any man was braver, stronger or mightier than him. Even Odin himself could not rival my father in my eyes," she said in a whisper with a smile on her face. She thought of the days when she was the apple of her father's eye.

It seemed like a lifetime ago. But once they had been close...once. When he would come home after long extended stays at sea she and Rana would rush to the door and greet him. They'd beat their mother to the front door and he would pick them up and spin them around in his arms. His arms were strong and burly, they were hairy and red and filled with scars and tattoos. Her father used to come in to tuck her and her sister in at night after her mother and Elke had them both scrubbed and tubbed. They could always easily persuade their father to allow them to stay up a bit later if they pointed out one of his tattoos or scars and asked him where he got it. He told the best stories. He'd tell them about the vicious pirates that attacked his ship, he'd pick them up and swing them around as he told them of the pirate raids. They'd squeal and scream and shout "Unhand me brigand!" just before he would toss them back on the bed. He'd tell of the sea monsters that he'd faced on stormy seas and he'd shake and rattled the bed to express how he and his crew felt being tossed to and fro by the winds and the waves. They'd hold onto their blankets when their father, the admiral would cry "Batten down the hatches!" He took care to mention the crews that he'd rescued and the tributes that he'd received because of his bravery. He'd talk about the mysterious islands and exotic cultures that he'd sailed upon. He'd report the beauty of their women, but he'd make sure to give the caveat that none were as pretty as their mother or them Yes, her father's arms were the arms of a warrior and a sailor, they were muscular and rugged, but they were also loving and dependable and the embrace that he would fold them in was one of ultimate security. He had massive biceps and sometimes she and Rana would leap upon him and they'd swing from the arms of their big, strong father like little monkeys from trees.

He'd showered them with kisses. She remembered her father's kisses on her cheeks and on her forehead, they were firm, but full of compassionate, and the wiry, wild, with whiskers that poked their way out of his plated red-beard would tickle and scratch against her skin. She supposed it was surprising to some that a decorated member of Odin's war council could be so tender with his little daughters, but he was. For the most part, he truly was. Not that he wasn't a disciplinarian. He was that too. But when your father was an Admiral who was used to barking out orders over the boisterous winds of a howling storm he could certainly speak stern enough to put a good bit of fear into two little girls. And when your father was a sea-baptized sailor whose firm, large, tanned hands were used to pulling riggings and tying knots, hauling in catches, steering helms and handling a mighty blade it was certainly enough to make you think twice before crossing his commands and having those same masculine hands having to discipline your behind. Sigyn winced as she recalled a time when she and Rana had carelessly been playing in the house, not heeding their maid Elke as they should have. They'd been running about and knocked into their father's trophy case. They case toppled over and all of the large awards tumbled out, most of them breaking. There was nothing that Elke could do to help them. Father would know it was them. They thought that he would be furious and indeed he was, but when he saw how they blubbered so over the accident his anger was quelled quickly. That had always been how it had been when she was young. Just before their father would be about to spank them they'd burst into tears and instead of punishment they'd get a new doll.

But that was a long time ago. She had not found such forgiveness from her father in her adult years for his slip-ups. No matter how much she cried or screamed or begged and grovel after her mistakes it did not keep her father from grabbing her by the hair, shaking her like a ragdoll or landing a blow. There was a time when he would always spoil her. He was always going to the shops in town or away on some trip with his fleet and making sure to buy her something expensive, something that would make the other women at court ever so envious of her. There was a time when she had made him proud. When she had succeeded to become a promising archer, her father had cheered her on. He'd come to her competitions. His chest swelled with pride when she won the games for Asgard. 'Ahhh, Sigyn, my sweet, you have made me so proud this day. I love you!' he told her as he slung his arm around her shoulder. 'You take after me!' Her father had said and he winked his eye and he laughed. He had a very hearty laugh and if he was really tickled he would slap his knee. There was a time when he would slap his knee all the time when they would talk together. In the past centuries whenever her father saw her he would scowl. Her father was a great man, was a warrior of great renown, he was respected and revered, a close and personal friend of Odin. For him to say that she had taken after him meant everything to her. They had always had a lot in common. Her father as an admiral was naturally a great sailor, he was a man of the sea. He had naturally taken to making sure that his children could swim. They always took their holidays by the coast or by the Lake Country where their father could be in his natural element. When they were younger both she and Rana both enjoyed time on the water. They would swim out to the barges and reefs with their father, they'd hop on the boat and Admiral Arn would show them how to sail and fish. But as they got older Rana became less interested in such activities. She hated to go fishing because she detested the smell of the fish. Not that Sigyn blamed her. She too couldn't stand the smell of a freshly gutted mackerel, but she loved the smile oh her father's face when he watched his delicate daughter haul a big catch out of the ocean. Rana loved the beach, but mostly only to sit in the sand and tan her body, to show off her expensive bathing suits and sensual shape or to flirt with young noblemen. She didn't much get in the water for fear it would ruin her hair and face- paint, but Sigyn would always agree to ride around the harbors and bays with her father for old time sake or race him in swimming out to the reefs. Those were good times between her and her father. There had once been times he had commended her for her beauty and grace and charm and gentle-nature. He'd always call her the rose of their house. he was ecstatic when Odin had accepted his offer to have her court his youngest son. He was even more thrilled when the second son of the king had actually agreed to the courtship as well. He held her on a pedestal then. He pampered her, spoiled her, showered her with all his esteem. He doted upon her and adored her. Sigyn's eyes shifted. She glared down at Loki's limp form. Her lips curled. She'd lost all that because of him. Because of his hollow lies, she had gone from being the apple of her father's eye to despised in his sight. She had gone from being the royal rose of their house to a thorn in his side. She had gone from being his pride and joy to his crying shame and it was all because of Loki's terrible lies. There was a moment when she had thought that she'd be willing to do anything to get back in her father's good graces. She wanted to be his beloved little girl again and she wanted him to be her doting papa. She had been willing to marry Theoric if it made her father happy. And she still had intended to. If only her father knew that she still had intended to, but there was no point in marrying Theoric if the whole cosmos was destroyed.

Sigyn slammed her eyes shut. She tried to turn off all the rage she felt for him. "Only think of how you cared for Odin. You may say that you despise him and clearly, you do," Sigyn bobbed her head. "Clearly, you despise and hate everyone and everything," she mumbled. "You're so heartless," Lady Sigyn swore. She shook her head and blinked away tears. "but when you were a boy, surely, surely if you had any heart in you at all...you...you...even you...you must have loved Odin. I know you did. I know you must have! How could you not? He was your father! The King of Asgard, he gave you everything, taught you everything you know. You had good times...didn't you! Didn't you?" Lady Sigyn called. "I know you did." Sigyn raised her finger. "All you ever talked about was wanting him to honor you. You wanted him to esteem you so bad. You chased after his praise... tried too long to please him to please him to honestly have me believe that he meant nothing to you. So don't bother to lie about it," the Arn qualified. "Unless your love was all a lie," she second-guessed herself. Her chest started to pound in her chest and she raised her finger to her lip. Had everything he'd ever told her always been a lie? Did he even know how to speak the truth? Was everything about the man who she'd given herself to just some carefully planned act? Her amber eyes grew wide. She clenched the scroll tighter to her chest, "nononon," she muttered. "You tried too long to get in his good graces for you to say all that you ever felt was hate for him," she stated.

"This child could have felt the same about you," Lady Sigyn Arndottir reminded him. "You always wanted to be the hero to have people admire you and think of you as great and strong and powerful...to see you as equal to Thor," she said in one big breath. "Well, your own baby would have, Loki! Don't you see! Don't you know? If you could have been good to this child and loved this child and been selfless then you too could have reaped the rewards of love that the baby had to give," she entreated the unconscious king to understand. Tears as big as raindrops tumbled from her eyes. "And Loki in this child you could have seen goodness and beauty and purity and innocence and wonder and all the good things in this world that you so swiftly seem to have forgotten. You don't know," the blonde-haired maiden shrugged. "You don't know...maybe this child would have wanted to be just like you," a faint smile trickled across her face. "Maybe they would have wanted to be a mage, maybe they would have wanted to learn magic. They could have studied at your feet. Just imagine all the hours that you could have spent teaching them. The fun the two of you could have had together. Think of the family Solstices that you could have shared," Sigyn's voice cracked. Once more she smashed her full lips together so that they were just as flat as Loki's for a moment. She popped them back to life. "I...I...I thought that seeing that the baby was alive... I thought it would awaken something in you. I thought it would inspire you...make you want to be better and turn from your wicked way...make you want to be good. I thought it would remind you of your capacity to love," she breathed and she delicately touched her heart. "Isn't the love of one's children supposed to be the most basic of instinct? Isn't it supposed to be for the survival of the species?" she looked around as if waiting for an answer. "Yet you even reject that! You really are a bloody savage aren't you?" the tears spilled forward in a torrential downpour from the floodgates of her eyes. "The only animals that reject the laws of nature aren't animals at all," Sigyn spat. "They are monsters!" she hollered. "And that's what you are too, isn't it?" she asked.

"MONSTER! MONSTER!" Sigyn raged. She started to kick at Loki's legs. She deliberately hit him in the shins. It wasn't enough. It didn't satisfy her. It wasn't enough of a punishment to suit the crimes for what he had done. Lady Sigyn let out a feral growl. It was practically a roar. She drew her leg back as far as she could and then she swung it forth with as much force as she could and landed three swift hard kicks to Loki's stomach. The body jumped and moved with the blows that she landed to him, but Loki didn't wake up. She gritted her teeth. "Monster! Monster! That's all you are!" she continued to shout with each word she landed another powerful kick. Finally, she found herself out of breath and winded. Loki's unconscious body had flipped over and he was on his back, face up, still not stirring an inch. Sigyn leaned down on her knees. She panted. "Why?" she demanded of the self-proclaimed king. "Why have you done all these evil things?" she asked as she gasped for air. "You blame everyone in Asgard for what happened to you? You blame everyone for the lies that you say you were told, you think they all you rejected you and criticized you..." she continued to rapidly try to suck in air. "But I ask did this baby reject you? This baby was innocent! An innocent life that never lied to you, never hurt you, never did a thing to you, Loki. Never did anything to anyone! And even that innocent life you sacrifice for vengeance," she shook her head. She shook her head and just kept shaking it. She shook her head more and more vigorously, faster and faster.

Finally, Sigyn let out a cry. She grabbed her head to stop it from shaking. Then she collapsed to her knees right next to him. She fell to her knees she gasped and cried and sniveled and wailed. "WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU?" she screamed as she grabbed her clothes. She practically ripped her dress, but so much of it was already dangling off of her. "What did I ever do to you, but love you?" she questioned. "Oh spirits Loki I loved you," she sobbed openly into her hands. "I loved you so much! I would have given you everything! I did... I did...I did give you everything. I gave you my body and you used it. I gave you my trust and you abused it, I gave you my hand and you slapped it away, I gave you my soul and you crushed it!" Sigyn declared. "I gave you my hopes and my dreams and all of my imaginations." tears continued to spill forth from her eyes. "I thought that you were great and that you'd make me great that we would be great together," she stretched forth her arms. "But you're not great, you're the worst! You're awful. I lost my good name for you," he finger shook as she pointed at him. "I lost my family because of you!" she explained as she nodded her head. "I lost friends because of you," Sigyn admitted. Once she had been very popular. She'd always thought she had a lot of friends. But once her name had been sullied and associate with scandal, one by one they dropped off and fell away they joined the ranks of those who whispered about her in the corridors when she walked by. The only left standing, in the end, was Liv. "I lost suitors because of you!" she shouted her voice ragged. All her life she had loved romance and longed for it. She'd dreamed of that life with Loki, it was a life that he had never been willing to grant her, but he had robbed her of having it with anyone. It wasn't fair. "You took my senses from me," she said as she gestured to her head. "You left me dazed and confused." She doubled over and grabbed her stomach like she had severe pain. "I gave you everything, Loki and you took everything from me," he voice was husky and she looked down at him with anger in her golden eyes. "You're a destroyer!" she shouted. "But I'll be damned if I let you take Asgard from me too." Sigyn rumbled.

Sigyn's eyes narrowed. Dirt had washed into her eyes from her tears and sweat, she rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes trying to clear her vision. She bit deep into her lip. They were tender and chapped and busted and it didn't take much for her to taste blood again. She licked the spot where the red liquid pushed forth from her lip. Her eyes scanned the sitting room. She noticed many of her arrows scattered across the floor. Some were even stuck in the walls. Sigyn nodded to herself. She knew what she had to do. Slowly she started to rise to her feet. When she stood up again she noticed how sore her limbs were. There were scratches on her legs that were still bloody and some bruises were starting to swell up. "I...I...I have to stop you, Loki," Sigyn sputtered as she limped to gather her arrows. "I...I...I...I can't let you win," she reported as she picked up one of the golden arrows. That one had the tip dented and dulled It wouldn't be sharp enough to penetrate the skin. Sigyn frowned as she looked at it and then tossed it aside. She looked around the large would for another one of her magical arrows. "I'm...I'm" she gasped. Her breathing becoming ragged as each step caused her more and more pain. "I'm not going to let you bring Ragnarok upon us," she promised. "I can't," she choked out. "What you want to do," she shook her head as she spotted another around that was pinned into the wall. "It's madness, Loki! It's madness. It's insanity! Malekith wants to bring back the darkness and you want to wipe everyone one and lord over us," she said as she shook her head. She placed her hand on the back of the arrow. She tugged and tugged on the bejeweled and feathered end of the weapon. She gritted and strained and put herself through a great deal of pain as she tried to remove the arrow from the wall. "Ahh!" she shouted as she finally felt it give way. She had pulled so hard that she felt as if her aching shoulders were going to pop out of their sockets. The blonde-haired handmaiden to Queen Frigga flew back on her back and groaned as more searing pain shot through her being. Every bruised and battered muscle in her body screamed out. But the arrow did manage to pop out of the wall. Sigyn turned to look in her right hand and found that the shiny golden end of the arrow was all that was there, but the arrowhead was still lodged and nestled into the wall.

Sigyn laid on her back breathless. She tossed the broken arrow across the room. "Useless!" she shouted as she did so. Angrily she growled and flopped back on the floor as she did so. She slammed her head and her fist on the gold black marble. "Ow," she whimpered as she felt a throb start to radiate through her skull. She closed her eyes and felt tears starting to pool in her amber eyes once more. "This can't be what the fates intend for us," she whispered. "We can't be supposed to just slip quietly into the night. We can't be just supposed to fade away. Is our culture just supposed to die without a fight? Are we just supposed to give up and accept Ragnarok as certain so? No, no, no!" Sigyn started to shake her head furiously, tears finally bubbled forth from her closed eyelids and washed the dirt from her filthy face. "Why were we made strong, why were we made brave, why were the realms made to look to us if, in the end, we would fail them all?" she questioned. "Why am I here?" she asked. "Why am I here if there is nothing I can do to stop this?' she asked. "Is it the just punishment for a fool that I must die in my folly?" For a while, Sigyn only could lie there. The pain of the questioned that tumbled through her head drowned out the pain of her weakening body. She stayed on her back opposite of Loki. Her body trembled and tears ran from her eyes. She could have been lying there for an hour all though she doubted it had been more than 15 minutes it felt like an eternity. Then it hit her mind, like inspiration from the spirts, like a clue from the fates a message from the all-father of the past a bold of lightning from Mjolnir. Her eyes sprang open the gold of her irises gleamed. She turned her head slowly and found Loki's dagger dangling from his belt.

Those daggers. Those perfect daggers. Those daggers that Loki took so much time and energy to conceal were now oh so exposed and available. They were sitting at Mead Hall one night. The tavern was crowded as ever. It was always crowded on nights when Imperial City's jousting team, the Warbringers played and won a match. Thor had promised ale all night to tavern patrons if her favorite team won. They did win to the glory of their prince and the tap at the tavern flowed freely as a waterfall. Thor and his close friends sat at a large private table in one of the top lounges where they could overlook the jousting grounds from box seats. Prince Loki was naturally at his brother's table and at the time she had been courting Loki so, so was she. She had invited her sister, Rana, her best friend, Liv and their escorts to sit at the table with the princes and naturally they each invited someone who had a date who invited someone else and before long the private box wasn't so private anymore. Somehow the conversation had turned from the excitement of the tournament to simply a discussion of weapons.

"I don't care how skilled a team may be," Volstagg began with a mouth full of mutton. "The victory always goes to the team with the biggest lance," he pointed out as he wagged a big turkey leg at everyone at the table.

"Hahaha!" the blonde-haired swashbuckler laughed. "Isn't that always how it is in life, brother," he laughed as he spat out his mead. His three drunken dates didn't even seem to mind that he had spewed his half swallowed drink all over their tunics and dresses. They went on giggling and Frandal took care to dab at and clean their blouses slowly causing their buttons to loosen. The boldest of them took to grabbing his groin.

"Oooh! You gotta big lance Frandal?" asked one of the wenches as he fingers feverishly continued fumble for feels.

The Casanova squared his shoulders, he wrapped his arm around the young woman's shoulders and then planted a lust kiss on the wine-soaked lips of another. "You better believe it, sweet-heart," he flashed one of his signature handsome smiles and his three maidens erupted into a fit of laughter.

"Oooh, you gonna let me see your lance tonight, Frandal?" another asked as she came up from behind and wrapped willowy arms around his neck and planted a kiss there. She batted big brown eyes in his direction.

"Oh don't worry darling at the rate we are going all of you may get a chance to see," he wiggled his eyebrows.

Prince Thor roared in thunderous laughter and wooted and hooted and swung his fist about. "Innkeeper! Innkeeper!" the Prince bellowed. "Get them a room!" he hollered.

"What are your group rates like?" Volstagg yelled out with his mouth still full of food.

"It's so true, you know, that you can tell a lot about a man by what kind of weapon he carries," said Liv. A sneaky little smile pulled on her lips. She gave a wink to Sigyn, whose eyes went wide with knowledge. She knew what her friend was talking about. They had both read that issue of the Freya's Daughters scroll. "That's why I always go for men with swords," she insisted as she leaned her head upon her escort's shoulder and stroked his dark goatee. Everyone caught her drift and a series of chuckles and intrigued glances were exchanged around the table. Each of the young warriors at the table then began to talk about the weapons that they possessed and kept on their persons at all times earning applause of laughs from the rest of their table mates.

"'Spose that's why I carry Mjolnir. The biggest, strongest, toughest, mightiest weapon there is!" Thor proclaimed as he stood to his feet and raised his magnificent hammer. He practically knocked over the table as he did so.

"Oh yes!" Purred Thor's lady for the evening. It was Quenby. Quenby was a famous actress throughout all of Asgard. The news scrolls and gossip columns and popular media had a field day with the fact that the Crown Prince of Asgard was dating the beloved star. It was simply the biggest buzz to hit the streets of the Imperial City that the award-winning actress and the future king were courting. Quenby was gorgeous. She had warm skin, dreamy dark eye, long legs and thick thighs and dark blonde hair. "Yes it is," she continued. "Prince Thor's is the best," she announced as she placed her hand on Thor's bulging bicep. "Thor is the best!" the actress boasted. "Quenby doesn't settle for less the best," she said in a little baby voice as she stroked Thor's luscious locks.

Thor's massive chest swelled to the size of a continent. He wriggled his gold eyebrows at her. "Neither does Thor!" he responded back to her and dropped his hammer on the ground. He scooped her up in his arms, pulled her close and then took a seat with her straddling his hips. Before long their lips were locked on to each other. Thor's rugged hands slipping up and down her spine.

"Looks like we will need another room soon," Hogun whispered to Sif. Lady Sif did not return the silent warrior's bemused grin. She glared daggers from her tankard of ale as she watched the happy couple bestow upon each other many public displays of affection.

Lady Sigyn could no longer bear to watch Prince Thor lock lips with the famous actress. Sif didn't understand what Thor loved about her so much. She merely played a warrior whereas she really was one. If Thor wanted a warrior she was right there before his eyes. Lady Sif had to turn her mind from her stewing and brewing. She turned her attention to the younger prince. Loki had been uncharacteristically quiet during most of the conversation. Perhaps it was because he had to keep shooing Lady Sigyn's hands away from his hair or cheeks or chin, but she couldn't help it seeing everybody else in such romantic moods simply impassioned her. "Is that why you carry such little knives, Prince Loki," she teased as she glared at Loki with her dark eyes from around the rim of her tankard.

The laughter and guffaws immediately fell flat. Everyone stopped what they were doing. They stopped their chewing and their chugging, the stopped talking and stopped their flirty and kissing. Their heads seemed to all swing simultaneously to look at Sif. She sat back placed her mug of grog on top of the wooden table and wiped the foam from her lips and then folded her arms across her armored breastplate. All the heads then swung back to look at Prince Loki. The dark-haired prince's emerald eyes widened, his thin lips tightened until the disappeared, his jaw clenched.

He clicked his tongue before he responded. "A weapon isn't always about size, Sif," he qualified.

"Rehearse that much at night?" she asked with a smirk

"But I can vouge for the fact that Prince Loki is very..." Lady Sigyn started in enthusiastically, but before she could finish complimenting and building up he beau Sigyn found a cool finger on her lips.

"No more than you do, Sif," he assured her and this time he crossed his arms in front of his chest as he gazed at her. "A weapon does tell you a lot about a man," he confirmed. "Some weapons are clumsy and inelegant. Some are loud, clunky and ineffective. Some leave a terrible mess behind," he shook his head. "Then there are weapons that are smooth, accurate, precise and agile," Loki said as he pulled his magic dagger right out of the air. He traced his finger on the blade of his knife. Just as he did so he let it fly from his hand. It sliced through the air and went sailing right toward Lady Sif. The dagger moved swiftly in Sif's direction. It was nearly at her nose. Sif reached for her own sword, she reached to pull it out and chop Loki's dagger in half but no sooner had she reached for her blade than did the weapon seemed to have disappeared. Sigyn had her sword in hand and she had risen to her feet. Her chocolate eyes darted back and forth as she searched for Loki's weapon to manifest. It didn't. It seemed to have disappeared into thin air. Lady Sif quickly sheathed her sword and proceeded to sit back down. Before her bottom could touch the seat, Loki was behind her with a dagger's blade at her neck. He leaned over and whispered in her ear. "But I don't think that you can handle a weapon like that, Lady Sif," he smirked.

"Oh! But I can Loki!" Lady Sigyn called out as she raised her hand.

Sigyn shook her head as she recalled her foolishness from before. Her eyes narrowed as she focused on the dagger there they were his famed weapons. They represented him in battle just as much as his magic did. But there they sat falling from his cloak and ripe for the taking. Sigyn raised her head to look around a bit. They were so much closer than the closest one of her arrows that she could spy. The closest arrow had been tossed on the balcony's ledge and she didn't want to rush all the way there only to find that it was bent or broken or somehow defective. Loki's dagger was right there and she knew that it would work. As he said it was a weapon of precision, a weapon that was small but still oh so dangerous. And she had said it herself. She could handle a weapon like that. If she could handle it then she was more than ready to handle it now.

With gritted teeth, Lady Sigyn managed to push herself off of the floor. She strained and stressed as her body ached from even those simple movements. It was just then that she realized how terribly tired she was. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept. It seemed like it had been days ago. In fact, Lady Sigyn Arndottir was more than certain it had been a few days ago. She was so tired. She too just wanted to collapse and lay on the floor like Loki, but she couldn't. She simply couldn't. She could sleep when she died. If she died, but she had no plans to die tonight. She intended to live and she wanted to wake up in Asgard, not in some Dark-Work overrun with Dark-Elves. Her body was weak and exhausted. She couldn't quite bring herself to get off of her knees, but she managed to drag her body. She managed to crawl over to Loki limp form.

The queen's handmaiden could scarcely crawl. Every bone in her body ached and every muscle screamed out in pain as she attempted to move. Her fight with Loki had taken a lot out of her. She thought perhaps Loki had exercised some restraint during their battle. She'd seen him in combat before. Mostly, in training session. Sometimes he would spar with Thor and the Warriors 3 or Lady Sif. Other times when her father used to train the new recruits for the naval academy, Prince Thor and Prince Loki would come to inspect the new sailors. Some of those young men were from the far-off provinces of Asgard. They had never been in the Imperial City before and had never encountered members of the royal family. They were always enthusiastic and wanted to see Prince Thor's warrior skills displayed in action. Thor would practically have to beg Loki to do a demonstration with him for the rookie, would-be Vikings. Loki was always reluctant to agree to one of their matches whether it was in front of troops on in the privacy of their palace training arena. She supposed it was because fighting with Thor seemed like a one-sided match, especially if the blonde prince would call out no tricks before the sparring began. But she'd always observed him. His speed and agility with his daggers. He could often move and dart around his guests with incredible ease, although Loki's blows weren't as forceful as his brother's or some other soldiers, his speed and grace and stamina gave him the advantage of wearing his adversaries out and using their fatigue to his advantage. And he was powerful. She had seen him land a roundhouse kick on Frandal's square jaw. She'd seen him get enough leverage to flip Volstagg over on his back. She had been impressed, the rotund warrior was easily triple Loki's size. She remembered standing up and cheering as she watched her handsome prince strike a winning blow for his team. Loki could have easily hurt her more than he did. She was sure that Loki could have killed her if he wanted. Especially with his magic, but he hadn't. Loki's responses had been defensive, but he wasn't on the all and all his blows were mighty. He had landed a particularly painful kick to her left knee. Loki may have held back, but she hadn't. She'd fought him with everything. She'd fought him tooth and nail. She'd exhausted herself, she'd exercised every weary muscle in her body.

Sigyn kept inching across the floor pulling herself off of the black marble that had broken china and glass and crystals from the chandelier all around and pulled herself over to the plush, emerald carpet; wear the broken wood and ripped pieces of their clothing were thrown about. She drew closer, but her arms started to tremble. They ached abominably. She scraped her leg again a large jagged edge of the glass. Sigyn screamed out as the sharp glass cut deep into her leg. Even her loud scream hadn't been enough to wake the slumbering mage.

She gasped and flipped herself over to examine her leg a stream of red poured down her calf. Her knee was swelling up terribly. It was swollen to the size of a prize-winning grapefruit. It hurt so bad. Tears pooled in her eyes as she wiggled the piece of glass that was sticking out of her leg around and tried to remove it from her flesh. After several excruciating attempts, she managed to slowly draw the bloody piece of glass from her body. Her breath hitched and more blood oozed from the exposed wound. She quickly tossed the glass aside. Her golden eyes scanned the area for something to bandage the wound. Her dress was nothing but tattered, filthy pieces of cloth. The dress was already stained with blood, splattered with dirt. It didn't seem a sanitary bandage in the least. She continued to look around the room. There was an exquisite tapestry that hung upon Loki's left wall. Loki had many unique tapestries and rare collections of art in his chamber. The tapestry was a beautiful depiction of a tranquil woodland scene. It was from Alfheim and the gorgeous shades of green, brown and gold of the forest smattered with the accent of the red from the changing fall leaves added to Loki's impeccable décor. She'd always been a fan of that particular tapestry. She hated to rip it. It was so pretty, but it was also thick and clean and dry. Sigyn cast one last glance down at her leg. It was practically being painted red by her own leg. She had to stop the bleeding. Tentatively, she pushed herself to her feet. Her small, dirty hands with bloody knuckles reached helplessly for the tapestry. She took one ginger step and fell back to the floor in a heap of anguished gasps.

Sigyn started to cry. Her leg felt like it was on fire. She was so tired and the tapestry. The tapestry was on the complete opposite side of the room. The rooms within Loki's bedchamber were huge. They could house a small peasant family comfortably. The tapestry was on the complete other side of the room. It might as well have been a mile away. Sigyn sat clutching her leg, rocking back and forth. The tapestry was so far away, too far away. Through tear-filled amber eyes, Sigyn swung her head back around to face Loki. He was closer. She nodded. She gritted and pressed. Once more she returned to a crawling position. It hurt fiercely to put weight on her leg, but she did it anyway. She let her legs become dead weight. She let them drag like an anchor on the ocean floor like a weary traveler drags his bags as his returns home.

It was hard. Her arms shook. She could feel them begging her to let them relax. To allow them to give out. She wanted to. But. She couldn't. She willed them forward, relentless. Pushed and pulled onward they went. "Come on, you can do," Sigyn told herself as tears ran down her cheeks. "Just...a...little...further," she huffed.

Finally, she was there. Loki's daggers were only an arm's length away. She reached for the hilt of the dagger. Her hand skimmed the gold and iron forged handle. It was cool to the touch. Just as she touched it her one arm that was supporting her entire body weight gave way. It betrayed her. Sending her upper body falling. Her head landed on Loki's stomach. She lay there for only a minute the metal scratching her flesh. She gathered her strength. She pushed up with one of Loki's daggers firmly in hand. Slowly she unsheathed the weapon. She swallowed hard as she pulled it out. She'd never been allowed to touch his daggers although she'd asked multiple times for him to show her how to throw them. He never did. She grimaced. She continued to inspect the instruments of war. The design on the handle was so intricate. She traced it. The mix of gold and iron in the shape of two ever intertwining serpents. There was an inscription on the hilt, but it was written in old Rune script and Sigyn wasn't quite able to translate it. Sigyn studied the blade. It also was dazzling. The way it gleamed in the light was mesmerizing. It was so well crafted. It was sharper than most swords. It could easily have sliced through flesh with the skill of butcher's tool. It could cut through bone like a saw. She shuddered. It was perfectly balanced. It would serve the purpose. That's all it was... balance. This bringing balance and evening the odds and doing what was right she told herself as she brought the blade closer to her face.

Carelessly, she brought it to her lip. It instantly split the tender flesh like it was nothing but tissue paper. Sigyn didn't scream. Truth be told she hardly felt a thing. Her eyes remained focused on Loki. The new king was still lying unconscious, not stirring, flat on his black. His chest seemed to hardly rise and fall. He was so still he could have been mistaken for dead. Sigyn's heart stopped at the prospect that Asgard's enemy could have already been dead. Perhaps her lips pulled up. She wasn't sure. She wasn't sure he was dead. She placed the dagger under Loki's nose and a shallow frost coated the knife. She pulled the knife away and her hands started to shake. "This is justice."
She moved over slowly. Carefully, she raised her wounded leg. She lifted it so that one of her legs was on either side of Loki so that she straddled him. His clothes were torn. His green tunics were ripped even through the armor. He had a bloody gash on his side although it didn't seem to be actively bleeding. She imagined that his powers were activated and he was conserving his energy to heal himself. His skin was exposed. His alabaster chest was plastered with her scratch marks. She'd torn at him like a cat. His hair was soaking wet, his face was full of sweat, his mouth hung open, eyes sunken in and full of black circles. She leaned over. She lifted his head, it lulled back like a babe unable to support itself. Protruding through his raven mop was a rather large, red and purple lump. As she touched it she watched Loki's features contort. She immediately withdrew her hand when she felt something wet and oozey grace her fingertips. Loki's head hit the floor again with a thump. Sigyn suppressed even the inkling to be concerned. She observed her fingertips. The blood that stained them stung her fingers and was cold. Loki also had a thin trail of dark blood, so crimson in color it was nearly black running from his nostril. His color was fading. The master enchanter had never had much color to him. His skin was always porcelain like he had never sat in the sun a day in his life, but now he looked ghostly ashen in color. His breathing continued to slow.

There he was so vulnerable, so exposed, so weak, so helpless...defenseless. His life could so easily be snuffed out. With just a flick of her wrist. She looked down at the dagger. Then she looked again at Loki, how he lied there like a ragdoll. She played with his arms for a little while. She picked them up and then dropped them down again, roughly. She allowed them to slap the floor. She did it a few times to see if he would wake. He didn't. She wasn't quite sure if out the corner of her eye she noticed his features quirking in response to the rough treatment he was receiving at her hands. Immediately she pretended not to notice. She told herself it was just her own fantasies. She was certain it was. She was a woman given to much fantasy. After all, she had imagined that Loki loved her. She had imagined that he loved someone...somewhere. She had imagined that a little letter could save Asgard. She had imagined much. And what was worse was that she had believed in her wild imaginations, well no more. She dropped his limp wrist again and his hand flopped back at his side.

Amber eyes continued to scrutinize him. His lily white neck was the part of his body that had not been marred in their little tussle. How long would that last? Her hand wrapped around it. She could feel his pulse, his breath. If she pressed. If she squeezed... she could feel her fingers flexing, ready to do an unspeakable deed. She ran them up the column of his neck. She traced them along the lump on his Adam's apple. When she removed her hands from his throat she went to his eyes. They were closed tight and she noticed that there was moisture on his long, black lashes. Sigyn's hands played with his eyelids. She peeled them back. His emerald eyes rolled about his head like little marbles. Sigyn mashed her lips together. Her hand started to shake as she allowed his eye to close once more. She stroked his face. She tenderly caressed it. He let out a soft moan. Sigyn jumped back. She thought that he might wake. She slid the dagger back and hid it in her skirt. He moaned again, his head turned a few times slightly. His brow furrowed, he scowled. He went on like this for a few minutes. Sigyn's heart beat faster. He was distressed. He was caught in some fitful nightmare, just like when she had first stumbled upon him trapped in the dungeon all those months ago. Her heart crumpled at his alarm. Immediately, her hand strayed to comfort him. Before long she was leaning over him cooing at him stroking his cheeks and brow until he quieted. She found her hand wanting to dab at the bloody nostril and wipe the blood away and to keep the crimson liquid from pooling in his mouth. His face, it was so handsome. He was beautiful as an angel.

She slapped her wrist for what she had done. How could she? Loki wasn't some babe in need of was no angel. He was a destroyer! He was a hostile enemy. He was a madman with a diabolical scheme. He had a plan that would end life as they knew and cause chaos, pain and suffering throughout the universe. He didn't deserve pity. He didn't deserve mercy. He hadn't pitied anyone else. He hadn't even pitied his own brother. Poor Thor was battered and bruised and practically pulverized. He was a lowly prisoner in his own home and Loki intended to kill him. He hadn't shown any mercy. He hadn't shown the people of Asgard any mercy. He'd led the Dark_Elves right into the Imperial City and he'd allowed those animals to ransack and raid and pillage and run-a-muck with nary a worry nor core. The city was burning. It was burning for no reason at all. Houses and businesses and schools, parks and playgrounds, palaces and stadiums all burning and for what. The Aether ash had formed a cloud so thick that the people had to hide underground. Loki hadn't shown them any pity. And Dyson. Dyson. Poor Dyson. He was such a nice young man. He was strong and virtuous and brave. He had a noble heart. He could have made an excellent captain of the guard. Now he'd never get the chance. Loki knew he was young. Loki knew he really didn't pose a threat. He could have turned him into a rabbit. He could have just made him sleep. He didn't have to kill him, but he did. He didn't have to be merciless mercy, but he was.

Well...now she would show no mercy. Her gold eyes gleamed. Her breath hitched. She pulled the dagger from out of its concealed place in the folds of her dress. She raised it and a glare from the dim candlelight caught it. "I have to do this!" Sigyn stated. "It's the right thing to do. I have to!" she stated firmly as she held tighter to the weapon. "It's your fault!" she declared. "You brought this upon yourself!" she warned wagging the dagger at Loki's pointed nose. "You brought this upon us," she whispered as tears flowed. "You wanted this," she reminded him. "You wanted all of this? You wanted death and destruction and darkness and devastation, you wanted drought and disease!" she yelled. "Well, I'm not going to let you get what you want Loki. I'm not going to let you win! I can't let you win. It isn't fair." she shook her head. "You don't get to bring Ragnarok because... because...because of your own twisted want of revenge," she spat. She held the knife tightly with both of her hands. "I have to stop you, Loki...I just have to," she confirmed. "I will stop you!" she pledged. "I'm not gonna let it end like this. I'm not gonna let us die. And I won't let the death's of those who have already fallen be in vain." Sigyn swallowed deeply and lowered the blade.

She had never done anything like this before. She'd never killed. There were many in Asgard who had. They were warriors after all. The noblest and proudest of them had were praised and put of pedestals for their bravery and valor and their willingness to do what needed to be done in battle. People could still have duels to settle scores. Stories were told, poems were written and songs were sung about those who had vanquished their enemies and slain the firebreathing beast. But she'd never slain. She'd never slain anything. She'd never even set a trap for a mouse or killed in a hunt.

She'd caught fish before. Her father took her and Rana fishing when they were little and even when they were older her father would often host parties on his yacht during the prime season when the herring ran. The first time, she was small, the day was warm and sunny and they were having a merry time laughing and singing on the boat going back and forth pretending to be pirates and mermaids as they waited for something to snag their lines. She finally felt a tug on her fishing rod. "Papa! Papa! I think I caught something!" she declared as she pulled hard on her rod.

"Reel him in girl!" her father declared.

"I'm trying," she said through gritted teeth. She strained and her blonde curls flew in her face as she leaned back.

"I'll help you, Sigyn!" shouted Rana. She dashed over and helped the younger girl.

"Pull girls! Pull! Put your backs into it!" Admiral Arn ordered his two dainty little daughters.

"We're trying," Rana declared through her teeth.

"It won't come up," Sigyn reported.

"It's putting up too much of a fight," Rana stated.

"Well of course it is, child, you think it wants to be eaten?" the Admiral laughed.

"Papa, it's too big!" Sigyn squealed. "Help us!" she shouted. "before it gets away,"

"Oh alright," Admiral Arn waddled his way over to where his two daughters were hanging over the railing. He picked both girls up and pulled on the back of the line. He was surprised to find that the catch actually wasn't that easy to pull up. He laughed jauntily. "He must be a whopper!" he declared to his daughters. Both girls giggled and danced about on the boat.

"A whopper, a whopper, we got a whopper!" the blonde and red-haired girls sang as the spun in a circle. All of a sudden the fish came sailing out of the water.

"Hear it comes girls!" her father shouted to them. They watched with gaping mouths as it's beautiful rainbow scales glistened in the sun. The Admiral pulled it in and it wasn't quite as big as they had originally imagined it was going to be. The poor creature gasped and flopped about on the deck pitifully. "Good work, girls," he looked at his daughters and winked. He folded his arms across his chest. "I'll show you how to skin and clean him and then we'll cook him up."

"Papa, what's happening to the fishy?" Sigyn asked as she tugged the admiral's big hand.

The admiral was still smiling. "Well he can't breathe, Sigyn" he pointed out. "Fish need water to breathe."

"You mean he's dying?" The little blonde haired child's face contorted in horror.

"Well...yes..."

"Oh no! Oh no! Oh no! We have to do something! We have to help him!"

"Help him? Sigyn we just caught him," Rana insisted putting her hand on her hip.

"We can't let him die!" Sigyn's golden eyes were wide as saucers.

"Now, Sigyn, calm down," Adrmial Arn instructed. "You eat fish all the time," he explained.

"But this is different." she cried with tears welling up in her eyes. "I've never seen them alive before I ate them," the little blonde girl's lip started to tremble." I can't eat him! I just can't!" she started to blubber.

"What are we gonna do?" Rana asked as she shrugged her shoulders and looked back at her parent.

"We could release him, Sigyn," her father said as he sighed, but placed a tender large hand on her shoulder.

"But we just caught it," Rana contradicted.

"There's such thing as a catch and release," Admiral Arn explained. He stooped down and picked up the creature and placed it in Sigyn's little hands. Rana screamed out when she saw the fish touching Sigyn's hands. Admittedly Sigyn didn't like the way the fish felt. It was squishy and wiggly slimy and cold and she would have dropped it on the ground if it wasn't for the fact that she felt the fish's heartbeat. She panicked as she felt the heartbeat slow. She looked up at her father with water in her eyes. Admiral Arn's steady hand rested on her shoulder and he nodded at her.

Little Sigyn raced to the side of the ship. She leaned over the railing that her father had installed to keep her and Rana safe. With that, she tossed the fish up into the air. The creature twisted and twirled and wriggled through the air until it finally fell into the water once again with a loud plop. "Live free fishy! Live free!" she shouted off the back of the ship as she waved to the fish that swam away blissfully through the water.

From then on that became her custom. Whenever she and Rana were invited on a fishing outing with their father. She always caught and released. One time she even caught a huge swordfish it was such a prize. They could have feasted for days on that mighty catch, it would have been an excellent trophy for her father's wall, he wanted it to. He wanted it so bad, but she couldn't bear to see the breathtaking creature destroyed. Besides this fish was a warrior, a master swordsman, he put up a good fight. He didn't deserve to die.

She'd never killed anything except for an insect. An insect didn't really count, did it? And even the few insects that she'd killed had more than likely been by accident. She'd probably just killed them in her state of panic by running away a flailing her arm and throwing things more so than by actually trying to squash them. Normally, she'd just run away and scream for a servant to handle the matter. She'd never killed anything, not even a tiny guppy, how was she supposed to kill the man she loved? She couldn't do it. She simply couldn't

"No!" She told herself as feelings of tenderness started to bubble up in her soul. "NO" she shouted. "He's a monster! He's a demon!" she reminded herself. Her eyes narrowed and she looked at him with malice. "You killed Dyson," she pointed out. "You're going to kill your own brother, the rightful king of Asgard," she wagged her finger. "And if you had the chance, you'd kill me to I bet you would," she chewed out the words with tears in her eyes. "You were willing to kill anyone and everyone if that's what it took to get your wicked dream to come to pass," she noted. "You're willing to bring Ragnarok and see half of all life wiped out!" she yelled. "So why shouldn't I kill you first?" She questioned ruthlessly. Her eyes were wide and wild and she held up the dagger and smiled at it.

It was so easy. All that she had to do was...and then this would all be over. It would all be over so easily and so simply and so quickly. Loki's plan would die with him. And all the death and destruction that was only a few hours away would never have to come to pass. Malekith could wield the Aether, but Loki alone knew the secrets of the Tesseract and the Tesseract was what was needed to hold the portal open that would form at Convergence and allow Malekith to spread dark matter across the universe and it would also allow Thanos to get out of his confines. She didn't know who Thanos was but if he was in cahoots with Malekith from so long ago he surely was no friend of Asgard's and he couldn't be a friend to any people in the Nine Realms for that matter. She couldn't turn back time and restore the innocent lives that had already been lost. She only prayed that the all-father and all-mother had not fallen prey to Loki's wicked schemes and that they still lived. If they didn't still live she couldn't bring them back from Valhalla. She wished that she could, she wished she could bring back all the soldiers who had fallen and the Valkyrie who were slain and the poor men and women and children who had just been minding their own business when their city was attacked out of nowhere. They had just been going to work and to school when all of a sudden blasters were shot through the air and rained down upon them and when buildings that stood and proud, tall and sturdy monuments were cracked and toppled like tinker-toy sets. Some had been crushed under columns. She couldn't bring those lives back. She couldn't get her dear friends back, Dyson and Lady Dagmar. They were gone now. Gone to the banquet hall of Valhalla. She couldn't bring them back with word or deed. She reminded herself of the things that she had learned since childhood that Valhalla was a place so wondrous that no one desired to come back, but still she didn't want their deaths to be wasted. They died fighting so that others could live. They didn't stand up and fight so that Malekith and his horde could take over.

"I won't let your deaths be for nothing my friends," Lady Sigyn swore. She batted back the tears on her gold eyelashes. "I won't let us die," she promised, her chapped and bloody lip twisted downward into a sharp scowl. "I won't let you down," she whispered as she kissed the dagger.

The heart or the throat? Sigyn's eyes shifted between his chest and the column of his neck. She pictured herself making the plunge. The blood spewing forth from his hear and spraying her in the face. The knife was sharp it would easily cut right through the metal and fabric that guarded Loki's heart. It would be quick, but she'd never killed before. There was a way, a way that when you hunted you were supposed to kill so that it was painless and merciful. What if she did it wrong? What if Loki suffered? Why should she care? Everyone else had suffered at his hands. But still, what if the blow made a squishing sound? What if Loki flinched or jerked or grew rigid? What if his eyes flew wide open and she saw those dazzling green gems once more?

She nearly dropped the weapon. Her hand was shaking and shaking shimmied all the way up her arm and then down her spine and she couldn't stop shaking. She tried to brace herself. Her shaking was so violent that she thought she'd fall to the floor. To catch herself she braced herself with a hand of balance on Loki's chest. She gasped. Beneath her fingertips, she felt Loki's heartbeat. His body was cool as a cucumber, but his heartbeat. The rhythm was slow and weak like the fish. His life seemed to be already slipping...it wouldn't take much. She'd spared the fish and tossed him back in the water.

"No," Sigyn protested as she grabbed her head. "This is different!" she told her foolish bleeding heart. "He's a monster and a tyrant and he's killed a hurt so many. He's an animal!" she insisted. The fish was an animal. "But it was innocent! It had done nothing! It had never harmed anyone. It never hurt a fly," she countered. Okay, well a fish probably had hurt a fly... didn't some fish eat flies? Some fish eat other fish. "But that's beside the point!" Sigyn argued. "The fish never hurt me, it never hurt people." But there are plenty of fish in the sea. Loki is unique, the one and only. "Yes," he eyes dropped. Then they shot back open and she had a steely glare. "He is the one and the only person I know to be so evil...what he's done was unforgivable!" she threw her hands in the air. But the fish was spared. "This is different!"

Sigyn aimed the dagger toward Loki's heart. She was poised and ready to stab. She practiced the blow several times, but she couldn't execute. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. She couldn't do it. Not through the heart...the fish had a heart and she spared the fish, but the fish was a higher life-form than Loki. Still, there was the throat. A quick slice was all it took. It would be fast and painless. Even though giving Loki the honor of a quick and painless death was too good for him. He deserved torture. Thor was being tortured. If she went for the jugular, it would be over and done within the blink of an eye. All she had to do was go for the jugular. Sigyn mashed her lips together, she brought the pointed knife closer to Loki's alabaster throat. She closed her eyes. Her eyes immediately popped back open. She didn't know where the jugular was. Her hand ran up and down his neck. It was so smooth, so limp, but he had a pulse. It was faint, barely there, but...it was there. Where there was life there was supposed to be hope. But Asgard's hope seemed to lie in the death of one. Sigyn continued to feel up and down the line of his neck detecting every pulsating beat.

Loki's features quirked, he frowned. He looked as if he was in so much pain. More and more sweat started to roll from his brow. His thin lips quivered. He thrashed. His head twisting rapidly. He murmured and whimpered. His tongue stammered a word Sigyn wasn't familiar with, "Bedlam" Her heart crumpled seeing his distress. NO. The trickster was full of tricks and even in his unconscious state, it was not impossible to believe that he would devise some dirty trick. He would try to fool her for sure. "I'm not your pawn anymore Loki! I'm not your fool!" she spat.

Sigyn gripped him by the hair with one hand. She entwined her dirty fingers through his ebony mane. She grabbed a fistful and pulled on it tightly. She yanked it. She was rough with him. She noticed how he grimaced when she tugged too hard and hit the spot when a lump had formed from when she had hit him over the head with the vase. Sigyn bore her teeth. She leaned over him, her breathing heavy. "I'm not sorry," she whispered in his ear as she pressed the dagger to his throat. "You...you...you brought this on yourself you know," she insisted as she sniffled. "I tried to give you a chance," she cried. "Everyone tried to give you a chance! You...you...you just wouldn't listen to reason," she shook her head. "This is the only way don't you see?" Loki moaned in reply as the thin vermillion trail ran from his nostril down the side of his face. "Don't make this hard for me!" She growled as the dagger pricked at his skin just enough to make him uncomfortable. "This is Justice!" Sigyn announced to him. "And I'm not sorry," she ground out. She held his head fast so that he couldn't even turn his head. She raised the blade away from Loki's throat for one moment. She closed her eyes and asked the all fathers of the past for the strength to do what needed to be done. She started to lower the weapon.

Sigyn tried to. She really tried to. Well part of her tried to at least. She could feel something happening within her. Two sides of herself at odds with each other. One side of her reminded her of how vile and base and despicable Loki was. It reminded her of how many people he had killed like a savage and how many people he would continue to slaughter if left unchecked. Lady Sigyn wasn't very good at arithmetic. Numbers made her head hurt. But she knew that if sacrificing the life of one meant sparing the life of millions...billions then the answer was obvious. She had struggled in math so in school, but he schoolmarm had explained to her that in math generally there was one answer...She knew what she had to do.

The blonde-haired lady-in-waiting knew what she had to do. She didn't know why she couldn't do it. She didn't know why her hand shook so and refused to be lowered toward Loki's throat. She let go of Loki's black hair. His head lulled back on to the floor. She used her left hand and tried to force her hand down. She pressed her wrist. She tried to lower her right arm, but it remained rigid and frozen in one spot. She looked at her arm. She expected to find some magic green glow. Maybe Loki had placed some type of enchantment on her. Her arm wasn't glowing. She looked down at Loki's face. His jaw was slacked, his face was white as a bed sheet, his lips seemed like they were turning blue and he was muttering incoherent nonsense. Sigyn took her left hand and tapped Loki roughly on the face. He didn't wake.

Her brows knit together. She huffed out her nose. Loki had placed enough spells on her, but it appeared this wasn't one of them. It was just once again her own feeblemindedness getting in the way. She wasn't going to be a fool. If she didn't do this Asgard would die, the branches of Yggdrasil would be severed. She had to do this. She should want to do this. She should feel proud. She tried to think of the heroic stories of old. The legends that her family would sit around the fire and share, the tales that she learned about in school. They sang songs about these things and wrote plays about and had great feasts to honor such valiant efforts. The heroes of old always had honor and riches bestowed upon. In all those stories great heroes rose up and vanquished all of Asgard's enemies. It was a hero's feat something worth to be chronicled in the archives of the Einherjar.

She should be able to do this. She had to do this. She had to do this for The Nine Realms and for Asgard and for her queen and for her family. Her family. She had let her family down in so many ways already. She had an opportunity once to bring great honor to her house. She could have married a prince, but she chose the wrong prince, she chose the prince that was wicked and manipulative and he disgraced her and her family lost everything. It wasn't their fault, but they lost it all none the less. They were innocent of her crimes, but they suffered from her failures and indiscretions. Then she had the chance to make it up to her family. To collect a worthy bride price and maybe she could have had a half decent life. But she blew it. She ran away from Theoric and she doubted she could ever fall in his good graces again. Her father told her to stop. He told her her plan was all foolishness, but she didn't listen. She didn't listen! She'd never listened. She had never listened. She came all this way and it only made matters worse! Loki wasn't stopping his wicked plan. Oh the contrary, he was only this much closer to carrying out all he had set out to do and it was all her fault. She had to do something! She had to stop him. She had to prove that her coming back to the Imperial City wasn't for nothing. She had a mission. To save Loki, but he was a lost cause. But Asgard...Asgard could still be saved.

She had to do this. It was no problem. It should be no problem. She was the daughter of an Einherjar Admiral no less. An Einherjar would have been would have been able to do this. An Einherjar would have had to do this. Of course, they would have. The Einherjar swore an oath to keep peace throughout the Nine Realms, protect Asgard at all cost, to defend the throne with their very lives, to save the lives of the innocent and to obey all of their king's commands. A true Einherjar wouldn't have hesitated. Killing Loki would have been no problem for a real warrior of Asgard. He was in direct violations of everything thing they had sworn to come against. They were honor-bound to kill such a man. Although, the code of the Einherjar did frown upon killing another Aesir. Loki wasn't an Aesir. Striking an enemy down in battle was one of the highest honors an Einherjar could perform, but the Einherjar code also called for mercy and compassion to be demonstrated. If they killed without mercy and so ruthlessly then how were they any different than those that they fought against. But then again the Einherjar would never allow evil to flourish. An Einherjar was not supposed to kill an unarmed prisoner. That was not the way of a true Aesir warrior. If a prisoner was unarmed and compliant they were supposed to allow him to face trial. But being unconscious could hardly count as compliance, could it? No, an Einherjar would have been able to do it. Simple and quick without a second thought,

But she was no Einherjar Warrior. She wasn't a shield-maiden of Valkyrie -maidens and Valkyries had trained and hardened themselves against the feminine tendencies and had pledged themselves to the art of war. The Valkyrie were a secret task force. They served as much as assassins as they did for mercy missions and relief efforts. They were ruthless in their killings and powerful in Valkyrie. There were some who believed that seeing the Valkyrie on the battle-field was a certain sign of death. The female warriors of Asgard had gotten the nickname throughout the realms as the 'Choosers of the Dead." But she wasn't a Valkyrie. She was just Sigyn. Still, she should be able to do it. She was an Einherjar's daughter. She was a hand-maiden to Queen Frigga. She was a good Aesir woman and an Aesir was loyal to the crown, patriotic, brave...and above all else would do anything to protect Asgard

"Don't be afraid," Sigyn told herself. "You have nothing to fear," she reminded herself through tears. "This will bring you honor and glory," she announced lifting her head up high. "This will stop Ragnarok!" She scolded herself sharply as she kept trying to will the blade down toward Loki's neck. "This is for Asgard!" she roared as she twisted her lip in a snarl. The dagger was moving swiftly and it had almost nicked his neck. But his head rolled to the side and she saw tears streaming from his closed eyes. In the midst of all the gibberish that Loki was murmuring in his unconscious state. She noticed him mouth her name.

"Sigyn..." he breathed as his eyes fluttered open for just a moment. The green of them rolled back into his head and his body went slack.

Sigyn gasped. Her arms were trembling. No. Not now. Loki couldn't gain consciousness now! She waited with bated breath. She bit her lip, to keep quiet, to keep it from quivering, to keep from crying. Her chin shook violently. She tried to stop it. She mashed her lip together, but soon her teeth were chattering and a tear was sliding down her chin. Seeing that Loki wasn't stirring again and that his color was continuing to drain as blood gushed from his veins Sigyn swallowed deeply, she took a breath and clenched her fists tighter around the hilt of the handle. She said a quick prayer. "Don't be afraid," she told herself. "Don't be afraid to do what needs to be done," she repeated. "Be strong," she bobbed her head. She raised the dagger over her head, both of her hands clenched the hilt. "FOR ASGARD!" she bellowed and plunged the dagger. Her mind raced. Maybe after she finished Loki she could finish off the rest of the Dark-Elves. She could make her way into their chambers. She knew her way around the catacombs well enough to get into their rooms. She could soundlessly come in and Loki's daggers were so efficient that it would be absolutely no problem to wipe them out.

The blade was at Loki's chest and about to stab him clean through, but just before it could skim the surface of his garments, Sigyn tossed it to the side. It hit the floor with a loud clank. Sigyn looked around wildly at the empty room that was full of broken things, at the bloodless dagger tossed to the side at the bloody body that sat next to her. She shook her head. "No. No, no, no, no" she whispered to herself. Was she having delusions of grandeur? She started laughing. How could she really think that she could do what a whole army of Einherjar couldn't do? What her forefathers and the great king Bor could not even do. How could she think of doing something like that? Something so terrible and despicable as to wipe out a whole race of people. Even if they were violent and evil people...she didn't know if she could be responsible for their deaths. Everyone had thought that they were dead so long ago and they had survived. It must have been the will of the Norns for them to survive. After all, Svartalfheim was one of Yggdrasil's branches.

Trembling fingers reached once more to grab at the weapon that she'd just tried to blame it on her sweaty palms, but in her mind, she knew the truth. She couldn't bring herself to pick up the dagger again. "Nononononono," she mumbled viciously. "NOOOOOO!" she let out a bloodcurdling bellow. She doubled over and grabbed at her gut as she had just been stabbed clean through the heart herself. Sigyn covered her face and sobbed openly. She sobbed loudly. She howled and she hollered. The salty tears ran through her fingers as if she was holding her hands under a faucet. They washed the grime from her fingers. Sigyn soon draped her body over Loki's. She continued to cry like a baby. She was blubbering and wailing and weeping uncontrollably. She clung to his corpselike form. Her tears saturated his tunics, her broken nails dug into his threads. She wrapped herself around him and draped her arms around him. "Imtooweakimtooweakimtooweak," she moaned against his chest. "I'm too weak to do it," she stuttered through her hiccups. "I wish I wasn't, but I am..." she nodded slowly. Her cheek rubbing against the fine fabric of his surcoat. "You deserve death," Sigyn said slowly as she pushed herself off from on top of Loki's body. She looked down at him. She stroked his face. She ran her fingers through his long black locks. "You're a liar and a murderer," Tears pushed out of her eyes. "You're a plain villain," she declared. "You deserve death. You deserve for everyone to hate you. Especially me!" she pointed to herself. "A smarter woman would have known better than to believe in you," she hissed. "But I am not very smart," she reminded him. "A stronger woman wouldn't waste tears on you, but I am not so strong," she confirmed. "A braver woman would finish you," she growled. "But I am not so brave," she expressed. "You deserve death," she repeated. Her eyes were closed. "But your life..." she breathed. "Miserable and wretched as it is. Monstrous as you have made it out to be," she cried. "It is not mine to take," she admitted.

She gave a glance to Loki. It wasn't housed with malice. She continued to stroke his face. She leaned down and kissed his thin lips. They tasted of the tang and iron of blood. The kiss lingered. The blood of her lips mingled with his. "I'm a foolish woman," she stated as she pushed the tears out. "I am a foolish woman," she said against his gaping mouth. "I love you," she muttered. Sigyn slowly allowed her golden eyes to open. Her voice was caught in her throat as she marveled at what she beheld. She beheld a most magnificent scepter in Loki's hands. It was like nothing she had ever seen. It appeared to be made of glass, no maybe a crystal. The bulk of the staff was made of refined gold, maybe white gold or platinum. But the inside of the staff between the gold and the glass there were sands. Amazing sands, mythical sands. Sands like the sands of time that molded and morphed and transformed and told stories of old. For a while, Sigyn was simply entranced. She couldn't turn away.

She watched for a long while, finally, she was able to shake her head and break her stare. "The Norns have given you a choice, Loki...to be our savior," she pointed out as her eyes remained trained on the scepter. "Or our destroyer," she stated as she stared at the dagger to the side of her. She crawled across the floor to retrieve it. She picked it out carefully and brought it back to Loki. She folded the dagger into his free hand gingerly. She took the time to wrap his delicate, porcelain fingers around the hilt of the dagger. She crisscrossed his heavy arms across his chest. "Now it's up to you," she leaned over and whispered in his ear. She watched his facial features relax for a moment and tears push from beneath his closed eyelids. She patted his cheek once more. She tore off a piece of her skirt tails and used it to wipe the blood that steadily trailed down his nostrils. Slowly, she rose to her feet. She looked around nervously. The night was still and she had to go.

She had to go. There was no more she could do there. She hurried and skirted around the debris that was scattered across Loki's green rug. She made her way to the right side wall. Sigyn's dirty hands felt along the wall. They searched for a loose brick or panel. She counted and tapped twice and looked for patterns until she stumbled upon the right brick. She pressed it. And the wall gave way. In the Eerie silence that surrounded her the sound of stone grinding and scraping against stone made her want to jump out of her skin. "Goodbye, Loki " She whispered before slipping into the darkness of the catacombs.

As she set foot in the hidden pathway, an overhead of glowing green speckles appeared on the ceiling and lit her way. Sigyn looked up with wide eyes. A smile appeared on her face. Loki's entrance was guarded by magic so that he could easily find his way through the catacombs. She started walking. Her heart sinking as she did so. Maybe she had made a mistake. Maybe she should have killed...no... Lady Sigyn banished the thought from her mind. That wasn't her. She wasn't a coldblooded killer. Loki...lying there...he looked so helpless, she couldn't.

But she knew that everyone would brand her an idiot for her actions. She'd come all that way from the Dales to stop Loki and then when she'd had the chance...she'd just let him go, chickened out. It was disgraceful. The fate of the galaxy had been right there at her fingertips. She could have ended this whole ugly ordeal and she didn't she let Loki live.

Loki could very well, easily chose to still side with Malekith and the Dark-Elves and awaken Ragnarok and unleash the Aether. He'd said he didn't care and that he wanted to do so. He'd shown no signs of remorse or of a change of heart. Loki still easily had the power to rain Ragnarok down upon their heads to usher in darkness and begin a wicked reign that was marked by famine and pestilence and wipe out half of the universe. And she would be just as responsible as Loki for the fate of Asgard. Maybe even more so. She would deserve the hate of everyone and she too would deserve death. And she'd take it. If they wished to execute her she would gladly let them. She'd beg them for a good old-fashioned stoning if Loki brought forth Ragnarok. Or maybe the spirits would see fit to punish her for her err and her stupidity and her part in destruction by just having her be but of the first to die. That would be fair she supposed. What would give her the right to live after she'd allowed so many senseless deaths? She'd have her spot in Helheim same as Loki. She'd probably have a torture chamber right next to his. The blond-haired maiden chided herself for a hopeful thought that crossed her mind that maybe she and Loki could be together then. Maybe he'd want her. Dagmar surely wouldn't be around. Quickly, she reminded herself that Helheim was a place of torment, not pleasure. They'd find no pleasure or safety or comfort in one another all they'd receive is suffering for their sins.

"I'm sorry, Lady Dagmar, I failed you," Sigyn announced in the quiet. "You never got to know the truth about your child. Your child lives, but not for long," she shook her head. "You will be together soon I think," she shrugged. "I'm sorry Dyson if I made your death seem trite and in vain for not being able to finish what you started," she stated with her head bowed. "I'm sorry, my king, my queen, my prince, I could not slay him for your sakes. You have all been good, just and noble leaders to us," she affirmed. "I'm sorry mother, father, sister," Sigyn began. "Perhaps I have forsaken the values that you taught me. You taught me to love Asgard above all else...I...I have failed you," she confirmed with tears washing down her face. "I'm sorry Asgard," she muttered.

Sigyn quickly made her way through the catacombs. She was eager to reach the safety of the underground stronghold where the rest of the people of the Imperial City were hiding. This may be the last time that she may see her friends again. She wondered if Rana would be there. She hoped that she would be. She hoped Rana hadn't ridden back to the Dales all alone. It was dangerous. Now especially everything was too dangerous. She made her way through the catacombs and as she neared the inner sanctum she heard singing. It was the most beautiful, song she'd ever heard. It made her want to cry, but she managed to raise her voice to sing with them. "Take me in my dream recurring..."

---

"Father, please, don't leave me!" Loki whimpered as he clung to Odin's tattered robe. The vestment looked like he'd worn it for an eternity.

Odin could barely stand. He shuddered and shook. His old, thin legs seemed to give out. The proud leader of Asgard began a slow slide toward the ground. Loki gasped and rose from his knees for a second to catch the king under his arm. He lent his father a shoulder. Odin's eye drooped, but he gave the young, Jotun an affectionate glance. "You have to let me go," He muttered. "My time grows short," he confessed as he placed his hand over his heart. "I must go," Odin stated as his blue-gray eye looked toward the mountains that seemed to call to him.

"No," Loki shook his head. "No...you...can't" he choked out. "Think of Asgard," he entreated the elderly man.

"I have already failed Asgard," Odin sighed.

"No, Father, you haven't it was me, All this evil is my doing," Loki pointed to himself. "Think of Asgard she needs you," he entreated him. He reached his frozen fingers up to grab at Odin's hand.

Odin sighed and allowed his one eye to close for a moment. He nodded as he mashed his lips together. "Asgard needs a king," he expressed. "It doesn't have to be me," his voice cracked.

Loki shook his head. "You are the greatest king Asgard has ever had," he assured Odin. It was a struggled and Odin winced as he opened his one eye. It was hardly open, but he cast an affectionate glance at his youngest son. He continued to stroke his hairless face. "Think of mother, think of Thor...they...they need you," he pointed out hopefully. Odin loved Asgard, but they were possibly the only two he loved more than the entire realm.

"I'm so weak now, Loki," Odin confessed his shaky, gnarled, ghost fingers trace a cobalt jawline. "I don't have the strength to walk between the dimensions any longer," he breathed. "I must return to the present," he stated. "Though I don't know for how long," the elderly king's bony shoulders shrugged and he let out a brittle laugh.

"Don't say that!" Loki sputtered in desperation at hearing the terrible joke.

"Take me in..." Odin began to sing his voice dry and crackly.

In the next moment, Loki's silvery voice was joining with his father's. Father and son sang in unison. "My dream recurring..."

"I love you, Loki, my son," the old king whispered as he pressed a kiss against Loki's forehead. He then pushed away and stood up. He took slow and steady steps walking away from his son. Loki watched as Odin continued to walk away. "I can hear them," Odin chimed. His tone was jovial as he cupped his hands over his ears. The white-haired king looked over his shoulder and waved at Loki one last time there was a small grin on his face. He seemed to keep walking into the distance, walking into the horizon. Loki watched as his father's image slowly disappeared into gold dust.

The Frost Giant raised a thin blue hand, he rocked it from side to side tentatively. He hardly knew that he was wearing an expression to mirror Odin's. Tears wear streaking down his face, but this time they didn't burn. They felt like a cool shower on his face. he bowed his head and grabbed the ash below his knees. He tossed the ash and let it leak through his fingers as he quietly sang the ancient hymn. "Take me in...my dreams recurring...one more longing backward glance,"

Loki sat there on his knees for a while. He gathered dirt and ash and tossing it to the wind as he continued to sing the song of the ancients. He could hear all the voices of all the people of Asgard singing it so valiantly. As he let the melody ring out loud and true in his heart for the first time in a long time he didn't feel alone and he didn't feel like an outsider in Asgard. Cleansing, salt tears continued to pool in his flaming red eyes and wash down his face. He cried his eyes dry. He freed himself of every terrible guilt and pain that he had held for so long. He broke into sobs and sniffles and snivels that were wept to the rhythm of the age-old hymn. The wind picked up. It started to blow more fiercely. It too seemed to whistle along to the song that all Asgard of past, present, and future sang along too. The wind blew the skeletons that swung from the scaffold. The dead bones rattling and tinkling and clinking like little bells to accompany the mournful, prayerful tune. These poor souls, this poor town, the poor children they'd all be good as dead if he didn't act soon. Yet he didn't even completely know how to act. He knew what he was charged to do. Defeat the dragon. Loki smirked to himself. He couldn't do it. He surely couldn't do it. He didn't have the power to do such a thing. It was too late! The dragon was too strong. Thor had killed many beasts. It should be him. Odin was Asgard's king, it should be him. It could be anybody, should be anybody, but him. He gulped as he thought of his own greed and pride and lust for power and a mad quest vengeance had created that terrible monster.

Loki blew an exasperated breath out the side of his mouth. The wind whipped through his dark locks, the dust smacked him in the face. The clouds packed in more and more ominously overhead. They were thick and dark and heavy. They were practically black. The climate was changing. It was distinctly cooler and Loki thought that he could feel the air growing slightly thinner. A gust of wind blustered into a vicious roar. It roared so loudly that it could almost be mistaken for thunder. Loki looked up at the darkened sky with hope. His eyes gleaming, ruby eyes alight with the prospect that his brother might appear. He expected to see Thor come a riding high, his magnificent tool in hand bringing the rain and thunder with him. They'd stand together and fight side by side as they always had. A smile played across his frozen blue lips. He had forgotten such glorious days. He looked out into the distance. He squinted hoping to make out a speck that he could call his brother. But he wasn't there. Thor wasn't coming.

Loki sighed. Thor had always been there for him. At least most of the time. He'd always been there when it counted the most though. He wasn't there for you when you were in the Void a serpentine voice whispered to him. Loki panicked. His red eyes were wide and his heart pounded against his ribcage. The one time he had called out for Thor's help. He was so desperate and so needy while in Thanos' domain. He would have given anything to see Thor come in riding high and take down the purple dictator. He prayed for Thor to come, but he didn't. Sssssee, he's never really there when you need him to be the voice huffed. Loki could feel his chest tightening, his eyes welling up with tears in his eyes. All those bad feelings of rejection and anger so easily started to resurface and bubble up all at once. He clenched his fists and ground his teeth together.

"No," he refuted in a quiet voice.

Come again? You know it's true. He abandoned you when you needed him the most

"No," Loki said again. His voice was stronger this time as he squeezed his eyes closed.

Foolish weakling! The voice hissed back.

"No," Loki took a few deep breaths. "I know Thor would have come if he knew where I was. He couldn't find me and that's the truth," the Jotun stated.

He didn't even look. Even he admits to that.

"No," Loki shook his head. "Maybe he didn't look, but if Thor would have known where I was he would have come for me, he'd always come for me," Loki confessed. "He's my brother," He nodded to himself. "He's always there for me when I need him," Loki smiled and inhaled deeply "and now he needs me," he said as he opened his red eyes. "I won't let him down," he stated resolutely as he pushed up off the ground.

Even if Thor came do you honestly think he'd even stand a chance at defeating Thanos? The voice taunted. You know he wouldn't have. The voice cruel and full of mocking laughter. Thor would have never been able to defeat Thanos even if he did come looking for his wittle baby budder, the voice teased and jeered. Just like you will never defeat the dragon. The sharp tongue lashed out.

Loki nodded, "Maybe you are right," he spoke aloud. His blue hands were trembling. "Maybe I'm not strong enough to defeat Thanos or the dragon," he confessed as he rubbed his hands together.

Thanos is too powerful, no man alive could defeat him. Not Thor nor Odin nor any of the old kings before, nor all the Einherjar of the past, least of all you, the voice spat.

"No, I couldn't defeat Thanos," Loki admitted he dropped his eyes.

Of Course, you can't. You know what to do. Take the same course of action that you have been taking. Join the winning side and have your chance to reign. Have a kingdom and a throne. The voice prompted him. It was tempting words like butter.

"A kingdom with no people is just an empty land and a throne that doesn't stand for justice is just a chair," Loki muttered.

Your Papa teach you that? The foul voice sneered. Like he taught you so many that weren't true. Like how he told you that you were born to be a king...

"Am I not?" Loki questioned nervously. His red eyes darted about.

Like how he told you that Thor and you were equals?

"We're not." Loki simply stated meekly.

Like how he told you that you were his son. Loki's eyes grew wide his heart pounded in his chest. All his life he had tried to be a worthy son for Odin and all his life had felt as though he failed. You're not! The voice shot back. It twisted the knife, its words were laced with poison and it added insult to injury. Everything he ever told you was a lie and now when you are this close to winning you are willing to give it up. For shame!

Loki shook his head. He grabbed his pointed blue ears. "Enough! Enough of you! Away from me!" he screamed.

He could feel the voice in the back of his head shrink back only to lunge itself forward. You can't defeat the dragon either. It has been feeding, reaping and waiting too long for this moment. Look how it is all so elaborately woven. Fates hand is already at play. You behold destiny. Asgard is done for. Asgard was always meant to end in fire and ash, that is the prophecy...

"But it doesn't have to end in fire and ash on this day," Loki said breathlessly.

This day or the next it will end Loki, you know that it will end. You might as well join the winning side. You have never been a hero, your nothing but a trickster, a liar, cheat, a scoundrel. The voice condemned. Taking form and getting in where you can. Why bother to change now, when you can't win?

"It's not about winning this time," Loki stated.

Then what's it about?

"Trying," Loki announced.

Trying and failing is all that will be.

"And if I succeed?" Loki asked nervously.

Oh, you won't, but even if you did do you think that the people of Asgard will ever really accept you again? Do you honestly think that you could truly find redemption after all the wickedness you have done? The voice mocked and laughed at the Frost Giant who stood alone in the wreckage of the once village.

Loki looked around, the storm clouds that had rolled in off the polluted lake were so thick and dark and heave that it appeared to be night. A cold wind blew. It was so chilling that even in skin that was made of ice Loki shivered. He saw the ashes and the bones and the burned and dilapidated buildings and the debris. He could smell the sick stench of death that lingered in the air although these poor souls had died by fire and hanging and starvation more than a century ago. And Loki knew that he was responsible for that. He was responsible for the pain and suffering and death of so many. He was responsible for separating husbands from their wives and children from their parents. He was responsible for burning down a city and destroying homes and businesses and schools. He'd done it. He'd done it all. Every terrible and abominable act he'd done. He couldn't expect anyone to forgive him for what he'd done. His acts were so evil and heinous that no one could dare to forget them or forgive them. Truly he didn't want forgiveness. He didn't deserve it.

"It doesn't matter," Loki admitted as he shook his head and broke his trance of staring at the destruction that was left in his wake. "Even if they don't," he took deep gasping breaths.

Then you'll be an outcast forever. THEY'LL HATE YOU! Something on the inside told him.

Loki looked down his thin lips twisted bitterly. "Then I'll take it!" he shot back at the pesky voice in his head. "I deserve nothing less," He admitted somberly. "I don't want redemption," he confessed.

Then what do you want? The voice demanded.

"To save them," Loki answered.

Even if they still hate you in the end?

"I don't deserve their love or their forgiveness," Loki expressed as he looked down, "But my family, my friends, my people," he pointed to himself furiously. "They don't deserve to die!" he argued.

Loki could almost hear the serpentine voice talking in his ear. You'll lose, the voice warned. And then you will pay with more than what your life is worth.

"Maybe so," The Frost Giant gulped.

Certainly so, the voice condemned. You will never defeat the dragon, you will never win. You'll die either at the hands of the dragon or Thanos. If I was you...I'd hope the dragon destroys me here and now rather than face Thanos' wrath.

Blue eyelids slid over gleaming red eyes. He thought of all the things that Thanos could do to him. He thought of the things that Thanos had already done to him. He thought of the things that Thanos had done to others who had proven to be disappointments. Sometimes Loki had had a front-row seat to the malicious tortures that Thanos could concoct for those who failed him. Once he'd pleased the Mad Titan and found himself within his good graces Thanos would often invite him to a show. Tournaments, he would call them. Deathmatches and battlegrounds where if the loser didn't pay with their life they sure wished they had. He even made his 'children' fight.

He sat in a cushioned seat next to Thanos' throne. He watched a most brutal battle rage between two distinct creatures that were called siblings. One was a beautiful maiden, hardened for war with skin the color of leaves in springtime. The other a bald woman with skin like a Frost Giants, but she was not a creature of the Nine Realms, she was more machine than maiden. Thor and Frandal had always taken great interest in watching arena matches between Valkyries and shield-maidens, it was indeed a good sport, but this, this was something else entirely. Thanos barked out orders of moves for the two women to use against each other. Each move would become more and more savage and more and more lethal. If he saw hesitation his purple lips would fold into a scowl, he'd press a button and he'd electrocute them for their disobedience. He'd command them to pick up different weapons, each more deadly than the last to use against one another. Both women had taken severe hits. Each one had sustained damages, however, the bald one was lying face down in the dirt and her robotic arms were contorted in positions that were cringe-worthy. The green one lumbered forward, one of her shoulders was dislocated and she was holding her side that had been slashed with a blade. She walked with a profuse limp toward her opponent. She dragged a heavy sword. The blue one twitched and wires inside her body cracked and sizzled and started to poke out from her innards. The green woman looked up at Thanos. She was strong, but her eyes housed a dread as she waited for his next command.

Loki sat on the edge of his seat with baited breath. There was a thick lump newly formed in his throat. His heart was pounding. His nails dug into the armrests on his seat. He thought of his last battle. His fight with Thor on the Bifrost. Had it been so ruthless? Had it been so vile and base? Had it been so wrong and sickening and disgusting? There was no mercy in this battle, no warriors honor. Had their own fight been like that? He was so angry and hurt during their time on the bridge, he was confused and scared and he fought like a man possessed, but would he have really gone as far as these young women had? He thought that he might have. In that moment all he had felt was rage and envy. The scariest part was that these women had fought tooth and nail, like animals, but they didn't have a choice. They were in Thanos' domain and the Mad Titan totalitarian in his leadership, he did not allow for disobedience. They didn't have a choice, but he had a choice then and he chose to act so wickedly. Loki was starting to feel the strange sensation of regret and remorse. But before he could pinpoint the exact emotions that resonated from within him he heard Thanos' large hands begin to clap.

Thanos applauded the winner. "You have done well, my daughter," he congratulated. "You still earn your title as the most fearsome woman in the galaxy," he stated with a nod of approval. His clapping soon ceased. "Now, what shall I have you do next?" Thanos inquired as he scratched his large chin. A smirk played on his purple lips. The woman's eyes were screaming all though she didn't utter a word. Loki's bright green eyes shifted back and forth studying Thanos expression, the green maiden's expression and the form of the bald one face down in the dirt. "Lower your weapon, daughter," he commanded. And the weapon fell from the woman's hands with a loud clank. "Tend to her wounds," Thanos instructed one of the Chituari guards. The hideous alien led the winner away. She walked with her head held high. Although her victory wasn't followed by much fanfare outside of the titan and a few Chitauri soldiers who had been allowed to spectate. She looked over her shoulder though. Perhaps there was something akin to fear, regret and sorrow as she saw her sister's blue form on the floor.

One of the aliens hoisted the loser to her knees. She was hardly conscious and the wires from the hardware in her head were sprouting forth from her bald head like hair. "As for you, Nebula," Thanos spoke curtly. His frown carved deeply into his mighty chin. "Another valiant attempt, but once again failure," he shook his head and clicked his tongue. "That will never do," he stated. "But don't worry," he nodded and the dictator's voice was truly delighted. "All you need is a few minor improvements," he expressed as he rubbed his massive hands together. He signaled to the guard and the guard immediately carted Nebula away. She perked up after a while like her sense were coming back to her. Her body twitched. She started to struggle. she was kicking and bucking like a child having a tantrum. She was begging for a rematch. Crying no and pleading for mercy. Loki heard her screams long after she had been carted out of their presence.

"Pity that," Thanos spoke. "Weakness." He shook his head. "I adopted each and every one of my children, much like how Odin adopted you," he began to explain. "I took them in because I saw strength in them that I could use. I get the best out of them and make the most out of their talents and abilities. Who knows what you could have been had I found you," he prompted Loki.

"Planning to adopt me?" Loki offered.

"Oh you're far too old for that now, Asgardian," Thanos chuckled. "But I do mean to test you. Find your strengths. You are a fitting match to be pitted against my son, Ebony Maw. You will meet him in time. He too possesses great powers. One of you will be a victor and will be given a chance to do a great service to me," Thanos explained nearly kindly. "And now you know what awaits those who fail," he stated.

His heart began racing, his spine began tingling, his whole body began shaking, his throat closed up, he let out a wheeze. He tore his mind away from the terrible memories. He reminded himself that Thanos wasn't here.

Not yet, he was warned but you can't possibly hope to betray Thanos and survive! You'll lose and that will be the end of you. Then all this will be for nothing. You'd be an even bigger imbecile than Thor ever was than to have gone through all of this for nothing. You're so close to getting everything that you ever wanted, Loki. Don't let it go.

Finally closed his eyes and grabbed his ears. He let out a scream! "ENOUGH!" he hollered. "OUT OF MY HEAD!" Loki proclaimed as he shouted into the wind and picked up the staff that King Odin had given to him. He raised it into the air and shook it triumphantly before the elements. He shouted into the wind Until his very breath had been ripped from his lungs. He collapsed to the ground and slammed the golden staff on the ground as well. He pressed himself against the scepter as he gasped and struggled for air. He was shivering and tears were crisscrossing down his cheeks.

As soon as his breath came to him, Loki held his breath and waited for some snappy retort to come from deep within himself. He was met with simple silence. The only sound was the rushing of a mighty wind that ripped through his clothing as it was threatening to tear them right off and leave him completely bare in the field. Loki clutched his cloak and tunic closer to his body. "Now, I just have to find a way to get back to Bedlam," the Frost Giant muttered. He rubbed his hands together. He looked around at the village. The tiny town had few resources to offer the son of Odin. The town had long since been plundered and Loki had already searched the barns and stables there weren't any vehicles about. He turned around and looked over the ridge at the putrid fjord at the base of the hill. The swampy waters bubbled and gurgled and ooze and the wind was whipping so fiercely over the surface of the waters that it looked like a stormy sea. A clap of thunder boomed overhead. It was loud enough to cause Loki to quake. He nearly fell back to the ground from the way the rumble of the clouds and caused the earth to tremble. He put his arms out to keep his balance. His eyes grew wide as he watched great white flashes light up the distant sky.

Loki focused his attention back on the fjord. His ship was completely sunk. He wouldn't be able to raise it from its watery grave and even if he could get the ship out of the water the vessel was busted. It had barely made it here. It would never make it back to Bedlam in one piece. Loki looked at his hands. He tried to call upon his own strength and powers of incantation. He could teleport. He was actually quite a good teleporter, but even he Master Mage that he was couldn't teleport hundreds of miles on his own magic alone. He'd at least need to get to one of his secret portals and use the strength and energy that flowed from those places. Loki squinted, he could scarcely make out his secret passageway in the clefts of the rocks a few miles off. He had little chance of making it there on foot, at least not quickly. On foot, he imagined it would have taken him hours. He didn't have hours to spare. Every minute was of the essence. Dawn swiftly approached. With every passing second, it grew a tad bit closer. Time was drawing near to seal Asgard's fate...and his own. He gulped. When dawn came and Convergence with it what would be left to stop Malekith from unleashing the Aether.

The raven-haired enchanter felt a wave of despair wash over him. Bedlam was so terribly, terribly far away and the night was swiftly wrapping up. He sank back to his knees. He held his head in his hands. His long nails dug into his scalped and ripped at his hair. "I can't get back to Bedlam, father," Loki confessed. He hung his head and his shoulders slumped. "I want to," he breathed. His voice small and timid. "I do, but...I can't it's too late," he stated and he felt his voice crack. He felt as though it would give way to a sob. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm...sorry," he muttered bitterly. He shook his head vigorously and felt hot tears simmer behind his icy eyelids. "I want to do it," he confessed his blue hands balled into tight fists by his sides, "But I just can't," he opened his flaming red eyes. He looked around. Lightning flashed all around. "There's not enough time!" he protested. "I'm sorry! You raised me to be good and kind, you did," he nodded. "I'm so sorry that I've failed you. I love you," he stated. "I love you all so much," he confessed. "But maybe...maybe I'm not meant to be Asgard's hero. I don't deserve to be. I deserve t remain the villain in our history forever. I have no way to get back to Bedlam...maybe you were wrong," Loki shrugged maybe fate never intended to give me the chance to turn my wicked deeds around. Maybe it only means to add to my torment and guilt by allowing me to see what my evil heart hath wrought," he shrugged. "Maybe this is my destiny?" Loki grabbed at his tunics.

Just as Loki was about to give up, just when he was about to sit on the ashy ground and succumb to the dark destiny that had been prophesied over them for so long, from out of the storm where the lightning flashed and the thunder roared and the winds howled mightily and the clouds gathered in thick swirling bunches he watched as something came racing through the storm. Whatever it was it was moving fast. It was moving at lightning speed. Loki squinted as he tried to make out what was coming at him. He readied himself. He stood his ground and planted his feet firmly on the ground. He brandished his daggers, not knowing what to expect. He had already seen the strange beasts that inhabited the waters, he didn't even want to imagine the vicious, mutated creatures that must have roamed the land. A Bilgeschnipe on its own was bad enough, but with pollutants of the Aether that had populated the land, he didn't know what to expect. The something grew closer. It seemed to have picked up its pace and was coming toward the thin enchanter with great haste. Loki managed to make out the form. It was most certainly an animal. He heard the creature's heavy breathing, labored and haggard from the run. Its steamy breath erupted from its nostrils and it was as thick as the clouds that packed in overhead. The new king of Asgard continued to strain and squint his beady red eyes trying to make out exactly what he was up against. He took a step back his eyes opened wide. Out of the emerging storm came a horse. It was more than a horse really, it was more like a wild and valiant stallion...a noble steed. It rode furiously, hooves pounding against the ground echoing in time with the boisterous booms of thunder. The horse was huge. It seemed to stand as tall as 10 feet. It let out several mighty whinnies, neighs, and breighs as if it was calling out to Loki. "Slepnir?" Loki questioned as the horse came into focus.

The mighty horse galloped right over to Loki. Loki's mouth dangled open in astonishment as he beheld the king's warhorse. It was such a magnificent specimen of a horse. It was like no other in all the land. The royal family had always had a collection of rare horses. Odin was a collector of thoroughbreds. He had bred and raised many prize-winning mares and stallions. Odin even sought out the fabled 'Horse of a different color' and he'd found a whole heard of them in the mountains of Nornheim once. His mother had a penchant for finding some of the most lovely unicorns and often would ride with them through the city. Loki had even had a beautiful black pegasus. But Sleipnir was even more wondrous than they. Its bodice was striking midnight ebony that made it impossible to trace in the dark. Its mane was so long and silky with such rich waves that it had been known to be envied by the maidens who helped in the stables. It was tall and strong and had the horsepower, speed, and agility to put even some racing skiff and solar speeders to shame. It was faster than any horse in Asgard. Sleipnir also held a fierce intelligence. The horse had deep-set, black eyes that matched its midnight coat, but inside the animal's eyes was a keen sort of ancient knowledge. He was easy to train and swift to learn. He was sensitive and attentive to his rider. Odin had said that sometimes Sleipnir could anticipate a command before it was given. He bonded quickly with people and animals. The master horse trainer at the palace reported that sometimes it appeared as if Sleipnir was neighing commands to the other horses in the corral who weren't picking up as quickly on the training and the practices. The master horse trainer marveled at the way the horses would pick up the training almost immediately after that. It was remarkable and unbelievable. It had been reported that the powerful stallion had rescued soldiers in battle. He'd rushed on to the battlefield and stood between a soldier and the fiery darts of the enemy. He had gone back onto the field and sometimes searched for survives amongst the rubble and debris and dead bodies sprawled across the war grounds. He'd found about 16 warriors in various conditions and carried them two and three at a time on his back to the base camp. Sleipnir also had impeccable homing skills. He had an uncanny and an inexplicable way of remembering trails. He had often lead battalions back to the Imperial City or to a stronghold shelter in blinding storms, blizzards and sand dervishes. A finely bred thoroughbred beauty with eight powerful legs. It was a king's warhorse through and through.

Slepnir kicked and frolicked about as it greeted the Frost Giant. Honestly, he was surprised that the horse recognized him in this form. He surely was a ghastly sight and he wouldn't have blamed Slepnir if he would have run away in fright at the sight of him. Perhaps Sleipnir was far to brave for that. After all this horse had ridden into battle for years as Odin's mount. It had faced off hordes and it had faced off armies. Slepnir immediately ran up to Loki in his Jotun form. He nuzzled his under the arms and licked him, counted, whinnied and trotted about excitedly. Perhaps Loki shouldn't have been so surprised at the animal's knowledge of him. Animals were like that after all. They had the ability to recognize people in ways that other people simply couldn't. They didn't simply go by sight, but they recognized people by smell, touch and taste and the sound of their voice. Still, Loki knew that it was more than that with the magnificent horse, Sleipnir. It was something that had to do with the keen knowledge that was transparent in the horse's eyes. It was something that Loki knew all too well. Something that reflected Loki's own soul. Loki had trained Slepnir in his early years from his colt years until he was old enough to be under the hand of the master horse trainers. He had allowed his own Pegasus mare, Luna to be a mother to the young eight-legged pony. The two of them had grown close and shared a mother and son bond. Slepnir learned of her and since Luna had been incredibly close to Loki, naturally Slepnir picked up on those traits.

"Sleipnir!" Loki exclaimed as the black stallion trotted its way toward him. The animal seemed happy to see him and greeted him accordingly. It whinnied and nuzzled him with its black muzzle under the armpit. "Sleipnir!" The Jotun smiled as he stroked the horse's nose chest and neck. Slepnir was excited. He kicked about and stomped his eight hooves and even reared on his hind legs so his forelegs kicked in the air. Loki grabbed at the horse' reins and tried to tame the stallion's high spirits. The animal shook its head from side to side. "Easy, easy boy," Loki cooed. "What are you doing here?" His eyes were wide, but there was a hopeful smile on his face. Slepnir seemed to settle. he made gentle sounds and leaned into Loki's gentle strokes. "Did Odin...did father send you?" He asked. The horse bobbed it's head up and down. "Incredible! Incredible!" he exclaimed. "The Norns truly are giving us a second chance," he declared as he looked at the sky. "They'd given me a second chance," he nodded. "A gift," he smiled as he recalled Lady Dagmar's words. "I won't waste it," he clenched his fist tightly around the reins. Slepnir bowed its head and lowered its body so that Loki could easily hop on its back. He leaped up on the horse's back and mounted the saddle. "We don't have much time old boy," he told the horse. "Ride like thunder and ride like the wind, move quick as lightning. Get me to Bedlam!" He requested in the animal's ear. He clapped the reins against the horse's back. He clicked his heels against the horse's side and off Slepnir raced. His hooves pounding over the land as the ran toward the storm.

The clouds were starting to swirl about and make a frightening funnel. Loki watched as two distinct funnel patters started to take form and shape within the clouds. They were posted on the east and west, but the wind was blowing them closer toward the middle and it was obvious that when the two clouds met they would drop and form mega-twister the likes of which Loki had not seen. He continued to drive the horse to move faster. Slepnir was 4 times faster than any horse that they had ever possessed in the stables. Although, Thor would have protested the contrary. Thor would have boasted that his thoroughbred namesake was the fastest horse in all of Asgard. Perhaps Thor's horse was the fastest four-footed horse in the realm, but still, his horse had never been able to beat Loki, prized pegasus mare nor was it faster than the eight-hoofed wonder that he rode upon. Despite, Slepnir's speed, Loki wasn't sure if they could outrun the storm and if they couldn't they would never make it to Bedlam.

Perhaps his time had run out. The storm grew more intense with every passing minute. And every passing minute brought him a bit closer to the dreadful dawn. As he observed the conditions he realized that time was not on their side. Time was winding up and soon it would be dawn and there would be nothing that any force nor power could do to stop this dreadful Armageddon. The Norns had tried to give him the opportunity to right the wrongs he had his sins were too numerous, the evil he had committed was too great to be so easily expunged by one act of heroism. Surely, the Fates themselves did not want Ragnarok to take place, although it was inevitable at some point. No worlds would survive the devastation that Ragnarok would inflict on to the Nine Realms even Nornheim, beautiful and hidden and protected as it was would never survive Ragnarok. They knew that. Because the Norns understood fate more intimately than any other being in the cosmos they also feared it the most. The Norns were the sacred guardians of the time, they were the keepers of fate, but they were not to tamper with or alter fate. Even the King of the Norns himself could not stop Ragnarok if it was meant to be. During the time he spent in the Nornish King's court he had seen how many beings, people of all the realms, but particularly mortals would come clamoring at the Nornish king's door begging him to change their fate. The Nornish king would test the mettle of these request. He'd make these heroes and fortune seekers go through many trials. Even he and Thor had had a time when they had to face the trials of the Norns, in the Temple of Tribute. They were forced to come face to face with part of their own destinies.

Loki learned much during his time with the Norns. He had learned more than what the Nornish King had intended him to. But even if the Norns tried to give him a chance perhaps there was nothing that could change what he was meant to be. If he was meant to be Asgard's destroyer than that's all he could ever be. Loki nearly despaired as he felt the wind push Sleipnir back and he felt the first large drops of rain sting his Jotun flesh. The water-droplets turned to ice as soon as they touched his frozen skin. It chilled him to the bone and yet it was wondrous and refreshing and made him feel strong. Overhead, Loki heard a distinct cawing. He would have recognized the sound anywhere. The Jotun stared up and the stormy sky, from deep within the folds of the dark clouds he noticed the shadows of two birds. They were mighty birds with dark black wings and the shadow of their wingspan seemed as big as a man. Loki watched carefully as to two large black birds swooped down and around out of the thick storm clouds. They ducked and dived under the tempestuous air-currents. They circled each other like the mighty birds of prey that they were. Loki shook his head. "That's not a good sign," he warned Slepnir. The stallion kept running at full speed. Loki almost wanted to stop the horse. He tried to pull on its reins slow the animal down. "We're as good as dead anyway, now, ole boy," he expressed. "Surely, that's a sign of death," he pointed out as he pointed toward the heavens. The very elements were mounting up against them. "The hand of destiny is already at play," he whispered as he watched the funnel clouds mount.

The birds of prey continued in their cawing. They were loud. Their calls were shrill and could be heard of the thunder and lightning. "LOKIII! LOKIIII!" the echoed. His red eyes looked up. He was all at once baffled and enchanted by what he heard. They couldn't possibly be saying his name. "LOKIII! LOKIII!" he heard them call again over the tempest. He squinted as he watched the way the two birds moved. Their motions were beautiful and elegant, like a dance. The moved in time and in rhythm with one another. Their large, black wings gracefully flapped and soared and twisted and twirled in the poetry of their flight.

"The Ravens," Loki whispered in disbelief as he beheld them. He tried to swiftly wipe the teaming rain from his face as he beheld them. Could it really be? Odin's birds. Odin's raven. The all-father had always possessed two birds, his ravens, his seekers, his heralds and his messengers. Queen Frigga used to say that there is no lack. Odin may have lost an eye in battle, but with the help of the ravens, he still possessed a vision keener than all. With his ravens, he could send them forth and scour the Nine Realms for Intel. The Ravens had keen sight and photographic memories and so what they could remember many many years of information and they could give it to him in moments need. In Oversleep it was said that the magnificent birds did Odin's seeing for him. "Hugin? Munin?" the lone Jotun questioned.

Immediately, the creatures swooped down and dipped around Loki. He looked them in their eyes. Now, most ravens had black pupils, but not Hugin and Munin. They both had eyes that were a misty, blue. They had a twinkle in their eyes. Their eyes that were old and wise and contained ancient knowledge. Loki's flaming eyes stared back into the tranquil light blue of the birds. He felt a surge of knowing pass from their gaze to his. Through looking in their eyes he could see all the fear and devastation that he had put the people closest to him through. They circled around the Jotun on horseback. Loki drew in on himself. He surely thought that Odin's ravens would attack him. Their silver beaks were razor sharp, their talons were pointed for the kill. He tried to fan the fowl away. They continued to encircle around about him. They continued to caw and screech his name. Their massive feathers finally managed to brush against Loki's frozen face, they were soft and silky, a gentle caress. Loki gaped in astonishment that the old birds had not sought to tear him apart. "HUGIN AND MUNIN!" Loki exclaimed as he watched the ravens fly away. "Did Odin send you?" he asked. His voice nearly drowned by the blistering winds and teeming rain. "Did he send you to see what I was doing or to tell me something?" Loki shouted. The birds continued to call out his name. "Tell him I tried," he said as he cupped his hands around his mouth. "Tell him I really tried!" he continued to bellow. "I didn't mean to fail him, but I have..." Loki confessed. "Tell him I'm sorry," he begged of the birds.

After that, they broke back into the air. They soared straight up above him like an arrow shot toward the sky. Then they broke off from one another. One went left and the other went right. They continued their dance they mirrored one another in their graceful movements. As the birds twirled about Loki observed how they were shaping the clouds. Their flapping and fluttering and flying was very intricate and so was the formation in the heavens. He watched as he noticed the cloud take familiar shapes. He saw the clouds display all the crests. The crest of those of the Asgardian royal family. As a child, he'd memorized the coats of arms. He loved learning about the history of the ancient rulers...his ancestors or so he had thought. He wasn't really an heir to that grand line. He watched Hugin and Munin motioned the clouds into the form of the Einar Clans and then into the symbol of King Pitur, the first king of Asgard. He watched all the crest take shape til he saw the symbols of Buri, Bor and Odin. He waited to see the birds craft Thor's symbol into the heavens. He didn't see that. Instead, he beheld the two old birds weave a large horned image in the clouds.

Loki couldn't believe his eyes at what he saw. He blinked one thousand times in one minute. He rapidly wiped the rainwater away from his face. The image remained. He counted down the line. The generations of kings of Asgard, the dynasty of 13 kings. But all these kings were pure Aesir. They were brave and honorable and virtuous men. They'd saved lives and formed alliances and peace treaties. They helped form wisdom and beauty and culture and civilization throughout the realms. They had been beloved by the people of the Nine Realms. He...he... was nothing more than a Jotun runt. His life was thought to be so worthless from the very beginning that even his own people, his own mother and father hadn't wanted him. He wasn't even Aesir blood. He wasn't even Vanir or Norn or Elfin, he could have even been a mortal. Even being a mortal would have been better than Jotun, the race that was so feared by all. Worse than that he wasn't brave or virtuous. He wasn't good and strong. He was loathsome and vile and wicked. He hadn't brought peace, rather destruction. He shook his head. His eyes welled with tears. "I don't understand," he sputtered. "I...I...I...I don't deserve..." he called out to the giant ravens. "It...it should be Thor," he corrected them.

"TIS YOU! TIS YOU!" he thought he heard the birds call.

"I usurped the throne!" Loki yelled. He pounded at his chest as he pointed out what the wise birds already knew. "It's not mine," he said to them nearly pleading. "I don't deserve it," he said dropping his head. "It should be Thor's," he insisted. He didn't deserve to be counted among the great kings of the past.

The Ravens rotated around the image of his symbol which they had so carefully carved into the clouds with their mighty, black feathers. As they rotated around and about their light blue eyes focused in on Loki. Their eyes locked and when they did Loki found himself unable to break his gaze. The eyes of both birds stared into his and somehow something transpired. It was something that he couldn't explain. It was like with the ancient song, he could hear all these voices. They rang in his ear. Their tones were audible despite the booms of thunder and the sizzle of lightning that snapped about. He could hear the voice talking to him loud and clear. He heard the voices of those who weren't there calling out to him as though they were. He heard them with his ears as well as with his heart. Somehow all that was communicated through the eyes of the Ravens. "Loki, Loki" distant voices blew in on the wind. "All we ask of you: Is for your courage, wisdom, service..." Their voices were all at once distinct and yet unanimous like a chant. Their tones were proud and regal with an air of nobility that could not be denied. They spoke through the storm's howling winds and somehow even the storm seemed to quiet and make way for the commands being given. "To ask more would be selfish, but nothing less will do," the voice proclaimed to him and the ravens cawed to put emphasis on the message. With that, the two birds just vanished. They disappeared into a puff of flying black feathers that rained down on upon the Jotun.

The rain fell harder upon Loki. The crash of the clouds was loud and it shook the very ground beneath him. Loki blinked his red eyes. He noticed that the clouds started to lose their shape they twisted out of the regal configurations of the royal crest and they started to turn back into the formless, dark shadows that they had been before. The wind raged a flash of lightning struck right before the master enchanter and his eight-legged stallion. Slepnir immediately reared up on his four hind legs. He forelegs kicked vigorously in the air. The horse was rearing to go. "Whoa! Sleipnir! Whoa!" Loki called as he grabbed the horse's reins while flashes of hot white light flickered all around them. He pulled on the horse's bridle. Slepnir was not easily spooked, but the fierceness of the weather was enough to send the brave stallion heading for the hills. "Easy," he said as he regained control of the animal. Slepnir was quick to be lulled back into compliance. "Don't worry Sleipnir, I'm gonna get us out of this storm," Loki proclaimed. "But we've got to get back to Bedlam, come on! Come On!" he coaxed as he struck Slepnir's slick black hide and set the beautiful steed to racing again.

The mighty horse's powerful eight legs trampled the ground. They ran miles in mere minutes. The hooves pounded furiously over the rough terrain. They ran across the empty barren fields where the grass was withered and dry snapped like twigs underneath the weight of the heavy hooves. They raced over rocks and gravel. Slepnir's hooves kicked up the debris leaving them in a swirling cloud of ash and dust as they pulled through the storms heavy fog. All the while Loki urged his father's horse to race harder and faster across the countryside. "Faster, Sleipnir! Faster!" he yelled with a couple of hi-yahs as he pulled tightly on the reins and held on to the creature's flowing mane. The heart of both rider and beast raced at lightning speed. Sleipnir had moved like a speeder through the sky, he sailed across a skiff across the sea. He was sure that if Sleipnir was moving any fast they would have been flying. Together, they were outrunning the storm. Loki looked overhead and noticed that the thick, dark clouds were somehow falling behind them. "Yes, Sleipnir that's it!" he encouraged the stallion as he rubbed his flanks. "Keep going! Keep going!" he said breathlessly. He held on tightly to the eight-legged horse's thick black neck. He could feel the way the muscles throbbed with every powerful stride that Sleipnir took.

The cold rainwater blew back on Loki's face. It drenched him. Soaked him to the bone. All the while as he got more heavy and ladened and burdened with the weight of the torrential downpour the lighter that Loki began to feel. He urged Slepnir forward. He pushed the horse and the eight-legged stallion rose to the challenge. Loki was leaning forward. He leaned heavily on the horse's neck. He was practically standing up on the horse that he was riding. The wind blew his hair about wildly and the rain stung his eyes so that he was blinded. Riding blind, Loki felt his chest swell with pride. He took heart and grew stronger with each strong stride that Sleipnir trotted out. He could feel his heart starting to thump against his ribcage and bang against his chest. His breath hitched. He heard the words of the all fathers of the past continue to commission him on his noble albeit frightening endeavor. He could hear the voices of the people of Asgard the old and young, the men and the women and the children the rich and the poor singing out in a chorus of prayers. Their hope almost shattered and completely scattered to the wind. Their faith nearly broken into a million little pieces, but still, they sang and they believed, they believed. Their hope was frail. Perhaps it was dying on the vine, but it wasn't dead yet. He wasn't going to let it become completely extinguished. Asgard was a beacon of hope for the Nine Realms.

Loki gritted his teeth, he drove Slepnir harder and made him run faster than the mighty steed had ever been required to go before. "I know expectations are wild and almost beyond my fulfillment," Loki whispered melodically. "But they won't hear a moment of doubt or see signs of weakness," He muttered in time with each pounding gallop the Slepnir took. The horse's pace only intensified and so did Loki's chanting. It became faster and stronger and louder, "My nigh inescapable duty is clear," he nodded firmly as he continued to be splashed in the face by the thunder bursts. "If I can rekindle our ancestor's dreams," he said as he glanced up at the heavens. He nearly smiled as the words tumbled off of his lips. "IF I CAN REKINDLE OUR ANCESTORS' DREAMS!" he shouted joyously, triumphantly into the turbulent atmosphere." is it enough?" he questioned aloud. Just then, Hugin and Munin shot forth from the sky out of nowhere like torpedoes. The burst from the clouds with boisterous voices and cawed energetically calling his name. They flew by his side and they flew round and round him. They encircled him and they protected him. Their feathers seemed to form a vortex that shielded him from the brunt of the storm. "It's enough!" Loki told himself. "it's enough," he confessed louder and stronger. He thrust his head back and allowed the rain to down on him. "IT'S ENOUGH!" he shouted toward stormy skies as stretched his arms out wide as if he wanted to wrap his hands around the entire expanse of the sky.

---

Soon Loki arrived back at the gates of the pitiful city of Bedlam. The city and its residents faired no better than when he had left. Loki still couldn't believe his eyes as he looked at the squalor of a city that was once made almost entirely of gold now the buildings were dilapidated little shanty shacks made of plywood and mud and thatch. He shook his head as he dismounted from the back of Sleipnir"I don't know why Slepnir, but I thought maybe, I don't know, I thought that maybe by just returning things would change," he stated as his feet touched down on the mud and sludge that made up the road. The black horse grunted and swung his head back and forth. Loki gave a half smile. "Yes, I suppose that was a foolish thought. My battles not over," Loki whispered as he stroked the soggy, silky midnight fur on Slepnir's neck. Odin's ravens circled around Loki once more before he landed on his shoulder and forearm. Just like they had done with Odin. They were strong birds and their talons were long and sharp. They looked him sternly in the eye. One of them took a nip at him. It pecked at his hair. "Alright," Loki said a barely traceable smile still on his lips. "I know I have to fight him. That's what I'm here to do," He confessed. He nodded his head and he began to stroll closer to the wall while leading Slepnir by the reigns and carrying the two black birds on his shoulders. "I'm just not sure I can win," he muttered with a gulp.

Immediately, Gugin and Munin flew off over the city. They cawed and screeched and shrieked as they took flight and soared over the city and surveyed the pitiful existence of the people. There were hundreds of Aesir men and women who were working on building the wall. The people were hard at work laboring. Men were hauling timber and chopping wood. Their backs bent and their heads bowed as they didn't dare to look their taskmasters in the eye. They used the timber as beams to keep the wall in place. Other men were forced to grind straw into bricks with their bare feet. Women walked around spreading the mortar and greasing the bricks. Building the wall was a tedious and futile process. Because of the frequent storms the mortar never had enough time to harden before the incoming rains came and washed it away. They never made much progress and often had to start over. What was worse was that the slaves were blamed for the fact that the wall was being built so slowly. They were denied their days rations and denied shelter and adequate clothing. The poor wretches were gray in color and caked with mud. They looked like mudpies that children built.

The presence of the birds provided the men and women a moment of reprieve from their toil. Aesir gazed up with amazement as they saw the two magnificent ravens flying overhead. They gaped and stared and pointed like they had seen pigs fly. They circled the surrounding area where the laborers were forced to build a tedious wall. They ground straw into bricks with their bare feet and worked with their backs bent as their Dark-Elf task masters cracked whips against their backs forcing them to work harder. The Dark-Elves also glanced up toward the stormy sky trying to figure out what their slaves were staring at. While all were distracted Loki managed to slip closer toward the wall.

"Come on! Get to work you dogs!" the slavedrivers shouted as they thrust a few trembling Aesir men down.

"The rains are too strong, the winds are too heavy, it's impossible to build in these conditions, my lords," a white-haired, white-eyed dark-skinned Aesir man stated. Heavy drops of rainwater splashed down on his face.

"Shut-up gatekeeper!" barked one of the Dark-Elf guards as he pointed his blaster at the man's face. Heimdal's unseeing eyes did not even blink at the threat of the weapon. "You don't give orders here," he confirmed. "I will decide when you maggots can leave. I may very well keep you here all night," The soldier chuckled. He grabbed his belly. "I may make you work all day and all night in this storm if I so chose," he spat. "And there's nothing that you can do about it," he sneered. His soulless eyes faced one of his comrades. Without warning, he spun about and backhanded Heimdal across the face. The old gatekeeper fell toward the floor, face first in the mud. The skeletal Asgardians stood shaking and shivering in their skin, but not a one raised a finger or even a voice in protest against the abuses that they were receiving. Loki's red eyes narrowed. As he watched Heimdal scramble about in the sludge like a muskrat trying to get his bearings about him. He clenched his teeth and his fists. Slepnir let out a loud neigh. He grunted and rose up on his hind legs and kicked his hooves about.

"Easy, easy," Loki shushed the high spirited stallion. "The best we can do for Heimdal now is find the dragon," He insisted to the horse. Slepnir shook his head vigorously. Loki pursed his blue lips and continued to hush the horse. Slepnir was not easily appeased, but the Frost Giant managed to quell the high strung steed. "Come on," he stated. He placed his hand on the warhorse's back. He concentrated deeply until he managed to cloak the both of them. He took slow steps toward the opening within the gates.

"What are you staring at you filthy animals!" another Dark-Elf guard roared at the citizens. The citizens were immediately set to trembling by the booming voice of their overlords. He also fired his blaster into the air. "Get back to work you worthless mud slugs!" he shouted and he gave a few men hard shoves. he practically slammed them back against the wall. The Aesir instantly scattered like cockroaches, hopping to and scrambling to obey the orders they were given. The poor people bumbled and tumbled over one another and rushed back to their places and posts as they knocked into each other.

"Storm is really getting back, sir," another guard who stood on the wall shouted overtop of the boisterous winds. "We should head back to the Malevolent Citadel for shelter!" he stated.

"Nay! Belay that!" the Dark-Elf guard who had just struck Lord Heimdal retorted. "Don't give them a break! Keep them working!" he ordered.

"Aye Aye, sir," the young elf said. He nodded and saluted. He also fired off his weapon. It caused a vortex to form in the atmosphere and one of the women who was simply walking by with a bucket of mud to spread across the straw and bricks was sucked up instantly.

"Elsie!" Another woman screamed out as she watched her friend torn apart and ripped from head to toe.

The Dark-Elf soldier had a good laugh at the demise of the poor old woman. "One less mouth to feed!" he laughed and called down to one of his fellow soldiers who was posted at the other end of the wall. They slapped their knees and snickered. Just then, loud cawing came from the darkened rainy skies and even darker shadows loomed overhead. "What the..." The Dark-Elf soldier muttered as he looked up. Hugin and Munin took off in flight. The mighty birds swooped down and began attacking the Dark Elves. Their talons and pointed beaks were aimed at the soldier. They viciously pecked out them. They aimed for the eyes and tried to tear at their flesh.

"Get them off me! Get them off me!" hollered one guard as he was savagely pecked at by the ravens. Their beaks and claws and feathers were everywhere. They tore at him like prey. The Dark-Elf soldier flailed about. He was kicked and screamed like a panicking child. He tried to reach for his weapon, but while his gloved hand tried to reach over his should on of the birds snapped at him until his hand was bleeding. While the other ripped his blaster away from him. It took the blaster from him. It snatched it up and took it high into the sky where it dropped it and made sure to smash it to bits.

Another guard came rushing to help his fellow elf. "What are these things?" he yelled out in bewilderment. There were few animals seen in Asgard now. There may have been some wild mutated beasts that prowled the hill country and the forest regions, but there were absolutely no animals that ever made their way to the gates of the city. "They're all over me! They're all over me!" the soldier screamed as Hugin and Munin took to attacking him next. The two ravens were larger than the average size for their species and they were able to lift the elf off of the ground and carry him away. While in the air they savagely ripped and clawed at him. They then dropped him. They continued in this fashion lifting and attacking multiple soldiers. Some they even tore apart so much so that their sticky, black blood dripped from the sky and mingled with the rain.

"RETREAT! RETREAT!" Screamed the captain of the guard as he was peppered with pulverizing pecks. He ran for his life as dark wings circled overhead. The birds got closer, the swooped down with their claws lunged forward and in attack mode. Finally, in a moment of desperation, the Dark-Elf turned around to face his feathered foes. He turned his vortex blaster on the birds. He shot pulsating blasts into the stormy atmosphere. Swirling black holes with purple and red and white light rippling from their centers appeared all over the place. Hugin and Munin were easily able to avoid the blast. They dodged and soared side to side just out of reach of the devastating damage that the vortexes were creating. The other soldiers were not so lucky. Some were running and rushing in the help their captain others had simply been running away and following the command, but none could avoid the impact of the blasters. Mid-run, one by one the Dark-Elves were sucked into the blackholes and dissolved evaporated and ripped apart. Hugin and Munin chased the captain of the guard off. He ran away in horror and in anger shouting obscenities as he fled toward the security of Malevolent Citadel.

In the distance, overhead, in the midst the loud booms of thunder, a cawing could be heard. "LOKIII! LOKII!" Odin's birds proclaimed.

The Aesir finally managed to raise their heads. They looked around at the turbulent skies. There was not a speck of light and the rain still poured down torrentially in heavy sheets, but their tormentors were gone. The men and women all stared up at the sky with gaping mouths. They were shaking like leaves in the terrible storm. They stumbled toward one another and huddled together and the family members amongst them held one another tightly. They were baffled but terribly grateful. What had just happened? "What were those?" the crowd of Aesir men and women asked amongst themselves. None of the people really seemed to know. They didn't seem to remember. It had been so long. The ancient ways were dead and gone from their consciousness. They hardly knew what to do with themselves without the whips on their backs and their overseers dictating to them. Some felt the inclination to give thanks, but they could scarcely recall the words to the old prayers. It was such a long time ago. The storm's fierceness was only mounting. The poor people panicked and ran away, abandoning their posts and headed for shelter.

The ravens came back. They perched themselves on the barbed wire and metal postings of the wall. "LOKIII! LOKIII!" the birds continued in their calling and cawing just as Loki slipped through the opening wall. Heimdal had managed to clamber back to his feet. He still stood resolutely and devote to his charge just as he had always been. Loki was cloaked and concealed as he walked pass Heimdal.

Heimdal slowly turned his head. His milky, blinded eyes stared right at Loki. He wore a bright smile on his wane, dirty face. "Is that the fair son of Odin, I spy?" he asked as Loki and Sleipnir walked by.

The Frost Giant froze in his tracks. He checked to make sure that his enchantment was still intact. "Heimdal?" He questioned as he waved his invisible hand in front of the old gatekeepers unseeing eyes. Heimdal's smile did not falter. He reached out battered and bruised hands out to touch Loki's unseen shoulders.

"It is time,' he told him. "You're the only one who can save us now," Heimdal stated.

The king of Asgard slowly made his way toward the center square of Bedlam. There, the people had started to gather. There seemed to be thousands of Asgardians huddled from shoulder to shoulder, shivering in the torrential rain. They were corralled into several lines that seemed to lead to the drawbridge of the dragon's castle. Battalions of Dark-Elf soldiers marched around. They had taser-batons and electro-staffs that they used to keep the Aesir in order. They pushed and shoved and struck the poor people with their weapons to keep them in line. The lines ran from the drawbridge and all throughout the muddied streets of the town square.

The people of Aesir stood like ghosts. They were so torn and hollow looking like they were barely there. They were shaking and dirty and barely even clothed. Loki continued to make his way toward the front of the line. He cloaked himself in invisibility and continued to lead Sleipnir through the crowd. He came upon Lord Aidric who also stood in line with his young granddaughter, Nyky. "Grandfather, grandfather!" Nyky called as she pointed at the darkened sky. Her thin garments were practically see-through as the rain continued to soak her clothing.

"Veronyka, sweetheart," Lord Audric stated as he clung to his little granddaughter's hand tightly. "I know you are hungry child, but we have to stand in line to get today's rations," he explained to her tenderly.

Veronyka took a moment and listened to her stomach rumble. She grabbed her growling gut and concluded that yes she was hungry, but more so than that she was sopping wet and freezing cold. The boisterous wind as blowing dirt and leaves all over her. She was very hungry, but as she looked around at all the faces around her, she realized that so many here were much hungrier than her. At least she had had a wonderful meal the last night. It was so good. It was better food than she had ever tasted in her life, not that she had ever really had much food, but the things she had that night she'd never thought she'd have not even in her wildest dreams. She'd never dreamed of eating more than a steamy bowl a soup that had been a banquet, a sumptuous feast just like the one that her grandfather always told her about. She shook herself and turned her attention from thinking about the food, rather she gazed back up at the sky, "no grandfather," she shook her head. "Those things! Those things up in the sky...are they bats?" he inquired. Bats were always around in the swamp but she'd never seen them in Bedlam at this time of day.

The elderly Aesir man cast his gaze about the clouds were so thick and heavy, the rain was so torrential the winds were so fierce the thunder was so loud the lightning was flickering all over the place. He could hardly see what his little granddaughter was talking about, but slowly amidst the rain clouds and hail and lightning and thunder he was able to make out an anomaly. He could see the silhouette of two creatures soaring through stormy dark skies. The once proud lord of Vanahiem shrugged, almost dismissive of the girl's question. "They're just birds, Nyky," the old man explained. He shook his head. Then paused. He felt bad, perhaps his tone had been too harsh against his little granddaughter. The life he lived was miserable and wretched. It wasn't even worth living without his precious granddaughter. It wasn't her fault that she was born into this barren wasteland. "They are birds, my dear," he said more tenderly.

"BIRDS!" both granddaughter and grandfather exclaimed.

Veronyka jumped up and down giddily. She pointed at the sky and others around her also began to look up. "I...I...I thought...I thought you said that...that all the birds were gone..." she stated but there was a smile broad as day on her face.

"They were," he explained to her. "Those birds...Those birds," Lord Audric stated. "My dear I haven't seen those birds in a long time," he went on. "They were King Odin's ravens," he told her. The child looked at her grandfather curiously. Her grandfather told her stories sometimes of the way life was when he was younger. Of the way that this place once was. Once it was a paradise, but he didn't speak of it often, she supposed it made him too sad to think of the good times, but as she stared up at him she saw that there was a twinkle in her grandfather's eye. She saw a smile spread across his face. He took her by the hand and lead her as in the line.

The people all around began to look up and stare. Their mouths were gaping. Many asked questions of one another just like her. "What are those?"

"Bats?

"Monsters?" a few said as they quaked and quivered together.

"But what does it mean, grandfather?" she asked trying to look up at him through the raindrops. "I thought...I thought that you said that the great king died," the little girl pondered aloud as he bare feet splashed in the mud behind her grandfather.

"He was...he was, my granddaughter," the elderly Vanir man told the child.

"Then what does it mean, Grandfather?' she continued to inquire.

Lord Audric's heart began to pound like a drum against his thin ribs. For so long he'd hoped. He'd prayed. He'd believed, but on every turn, his prayers had turned to ash. He'd seen the destruction of his own realm. Vanahiem was one of the oldest realms. It was a vast and beautiful realm. His people were an ancient people. They possessed much knowledge, but their warriors were not as strong as those of Asgard, they had not been able to withstand the might of the Dark-Elves. He'd hoped that as all the other realms descended into madness and chaos that at least Asgard would still remain, the realm eternal, the beacon of hope for the realms would still stand, but even too this peaceful place had been destroyed. He'd given up hope that anything could change that. But now...dare he to hope again? His lips trembled slightly as he prepared to speak. Veronyka's trusting eyes were staring up at him bright and wide. He had never lied to her before. He didn't want to lie to her, but he didn't want to give her false hope. "I don't know..." he muttered to her quietly and gave her hand a tight squeeze.

"Perhaps, I can answer," a sleek voice spoke up from the shadows. Veronyka and her grandfather turned around only to find themselves facing the Frost Giant stranger they'd met the day before. Most of his features were concealed by his head cloak but the roguish smile of snow-white teeth betrayed him. "It means," the Jotun began his voice clear and authoritative. He cleared his throat and his voice fell, his tone quieter. "I hope it means," he paused, "That all our fates are about to change."

"You came back! You came back!" Veronyka exclaimed. She rushed to embrace the Frost Giant, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

Loki gasped as he felt the tender embrace. Perhaps it was just the rainwater but there was a sparkle of silver starlight that seemed to glisten back at him from her emerald eyes. He folded one arm over her back and gave her a tight squeeze. "I never left Nyky," he explained as he stroked her raven locks that were plastered to her head.

"But I thought you wanted to go back to the other realm where you came from?" she questioned. She pursed her lips and curious expression played on her face.

"I do," he assured her. "But I want you to see that beautiful place too," he gave her a wink.

"But how?" she continued to ask.

"There's something I must do," Loki stated. His voice was distant and seemed to trail off. His red eyes squinted as he tried to make out the front of the line that seemed to stretch forth miles ahead of him.

"And what is it that you must do?" Audric questioned.

"I have to face the dragon," Loki confirmed.

"WHAT?"

"No, you can't!" Veronyka protested. She grabbed Loki by his large, icy hand. She clung to him and pulled on him. Her grandfather was aghast. It was on the tip of his tongue to yell at her and scold her and tell her never to let a Frost Giant touch her, but then he noticed how she was not harmed at all by the contact of skin.

"My granddaughter is right," he spoke up. "You don't know what that monster is capable of. He'll tear you apart," he declared.

Loki's hot coal eyes turned and looked at the frail old man. "Oh yes, now I do. Nonetheless," he confessed with a gulp, "I have to try to stop him.

The elderly Vanir shook his head. "You're mad!"

A slick grin pulled on the trickster's thin lips, "Possibly." Once again his attention strayed from grandfather to granddaughter. "I have a task for you, little one," he expressed as he looked at her. Veronyka pointed to herself. "Yes, you" Loki chuckled. He snapped his fingers and instantly a horse the color of midnight with eight strong legs appeared.

"Wow!" Veronyka gasped.

Lord Audric's mouth hung open like a fish. "Where...where did you get him?" he asked

"Does he seem familiar to you Lord Audric?' Loki asked playfully. Dumbfounded. The old man could merely bob his head. Loki tossed his head back and laughed.

"Is that a horse?" the young girl asked as she reached out her hand to touch the animal. Sleipnir whinnied restlessly and shook his head but as soon as he felt the little girl's tender strokes he settled immediately and began nuzzling the child with his muzzle.

"His name is Sleipnir, he's a very special horse," Loki explained. "I will conceal him," he said as he rotated his hand around and the onyx-colored stallion vanished from sight. "I need you to watch him," he said as he passed the young girl the invisible bridle.

"I am to watch what I can't see?"

"Yes!" Loki teased her and plucked her on the nose.

Veronyka was about to give some smart retort, but all at once the stranger who she liked very much had disappeared. She looked around bewildered but kept a tight fist wrapped around this invisible reins of Slepnir's bridle. "Grandfather, what does this all mean?" she asked with excitement in her tone.

Lord Audric's dim purple eyes looked forward. He wrapped his arm around his granddaughter. "It means a son of Odin has returned.

Loki finally arrived at the front of the long line of starving, sniveling, shivering citizens all desperately standing out in the torrential rain. The rain waters started to rise, heaping puddles were gathering pass peoples ankles. Loki could understand why the people were just standing there. He knew that their shelters were meager, he'd seen foxes with better homes than the pitiful hovels and mud huts that the Asgardians had been forced to live in, but still, anything was better than standing in this rain. It was dangerous,

Soon his eyes landed on the reason why they were all standing in the large, sloppy lines. There were tents set up along the drawbridge that led to the Malevolent Citadel. There were about 10 or 15 black tents set up. Most heavily guarded by Dark-Elf soldiers in iron. The wind blew boisterously and started to blow the flaps right off the tents. The Soldiers did their best to batten down the hatches and hold fast to the tent flaps, but the winds were too strong and too fearsome. The rains were too powerful they tore right through the tents. Many of the elves started to pack up their tents or they just abandoned them as they headed to the safety and protection of the castle. The desperate people ran up on the Dark Elves. They grabbed and clawed and scratched and scrambled. The skimmed the ground on their hands and knees rolling through the mud, practically diving into the squalor trying to grab a tiny piece of something. They were helplessly begging and pleading and crying out. Their hands were outstretched, they started ripping off pieces of their tattered raiment and dropping it at the feet of their taskmasters as an offering. They pushed and shoved. Trying to get the attention of the Dark-Elves. He watched the madness and pandemonium that seemed to set in. It was panic and hysteria that seemed to give way to mayhem. Women who were almost bald cut off measly clumps of dirty, matted hair. The soldiers paid no heed to the desperation of the Aesir people. They treated them with total and utter disdain. They beat them back with their electro-whips and taser-staffs. They hit them over the head with clubs not caring whether they were bludgeoning men, women or even children. They shot into the air with their blasters and made vortexes and that sent the people running away in fear.

"PACK IT UP!" a strong voice bellowed from the center of all the commotion.

Loki turned to face the direction of the person speaking. Sitting on a gilded chair in a more elaborate tent that was draped with rare dark gems, the tent made of thick leather was the undisputed and exalted leader of the Dark-Elves. "Malekith," Loki let the warlord's name rumble off of his lips as he glared at him. He was warm and dry and well clothed while the poor people of Asgard looked worse than cavemen. Malekith set upon his throne with a tribute of all manner before him, gold and jewels and even smaller trinkets and things that were truly worthless that he'd taken from the Aesir to make sure that they had nothing even the clothes on their backs. To his left side, he had a woman fanning him. She was a frail-looking older woman, her hair was long and thin and flowed in a silver cascade down her back. Her clothing resembled nothing more than a burlap sack. She was dirty but cleaner than the poor huddled masses scrambling for food in this tempest. She had a rope wrapped around her tiny waist and she had iron chains that held her arms and legs to Malekith's chair. The chains were tight and the rusted metal was cutting into the thin flesh of the woman's wrists and ankles. Loki gulped as he squinted and recognized who the pathetic figure was. "Mother!" he gasped. His black nails dug into his palms and his teeth instantly started to grind. How dare his mother, Queen of Asgard be made to appear as a slave before her subjects. It was disgraceful. In the midst of all the commotion and confusion from the panicking people, Malekith sat contentedly as if on holiday at the shore on a summer's day. His legs were crossed and his arms were folded over his broad chest that was fitted with armor and leather. He heard the shouts and protest from the crowd. Their pleas and screams made the Dark-Elf laugh. They wept like babes for mercy and they begged for bread. They pushed and thronged and tried to mob the tents, but their bodies were weak and the Dark-Elves easily held them back.
"Pull it in!" Malekith bellowed with a smirk plastered on his bloodless lips. He clapped his hands and immediately Frigga doubled over and gather the Dark-Elf leader's things as he proceeded to stand she held the train of his cape and continued to try to fan him.

Loki's eyes darted to the left side of where Lord Malekith had been stationed. There he observed another woman standing to the warlord's side. She too was skinny, but not quite as skeletal in a figure as the rest of the Aesir. Her hair was done up prettily in an elaborately braided style. She had on the clothing of a harem girl. Slit, sheer harem style pants that revealed her thighs and she had on nothing but a golden brazier. She had on bangles and jewels, but Loki detested the way that his the woman was put on display for all to see. Not that the men of Bedlam were ogling the woman. Despite her apparent beauty, they were more amorous of the loaf of bread that she was protectively slicing than looking at her many other assets. The hands of men and women and children reached in between the barricade of soldiers. They stretched their hands over their shoulders and practically tried to crawl over and under the Dark-Elves children squirmed and squeezed and tried to wriggle their way through the crowd their dirty little fingers hungry for crumbs. The blonde-haired maiden's pulse quickened. She was breathing fast and her large gold eyes were welling with tears. Her chest heaved. "NO!" she shouted and she vigorously started to chop the bread. She cut slice after slice after slice. She ran to the edge of the tent and with all her might she flung the bread out among the crowd like she was scattering crumbs to pigeons. The crowd raised their hands in praise trying with all their might to catch the hard, stale bread. They fought like hyenas over a carcass for the scraps.

She ran back to grab more bread. It broke her heart to see her people reduced to such animalistic tendencies over just the basics to survive. When she came back to the table the bread was gone. "NO!" she shouted once more as her eyes darted about frantically searching for where the bread went. She shook her head when she found that several of the Dark_Elf soldiers were stuffing it into bags and keeping it away from the people. "NO!" she shrieked in protest. She rushed up on them. She tried to snatch back the bread, but they tossed her to the ground like a worthless sack of potatoes. She sat on the ground shivering as the rain fell upon and the wind cut through her. Lord Malekith scoffed as he sauntered by her. He had a loaf of bread neatly tucked beneath his arm. He took care to make sure his pits stared at her as he took a bite of the bread. It wasn't that good and he justly spat it back right at her. His chewed food just missed her nose. Her puckered pink lips twisted into an intense snarl and she glared up at the dictator. Still, she reached her hand out and grabbed Malekith by the back of his cape that Frigga was holding. "NO!" she protested. "Stop!" she ordered and she held on to his garment as tightly as she could. He was unphased by her demonstration and kept stomping right on ahead, he dragged the young Aesir woman behind him. Her rear end up in the air and her feet kicked about. "The Dragon promised! He promised!" she cried. She was sobbing.

Finally, Malekith turned around. He snatched his cape from both her and Frigga's hands. Frigga stood off to the side, fearful, but with head bowed in obedience. The blonde- woman looked up at Malekith his chest filthy with mud and water. Her breath coming out in ragged huffs. She wiped the grime from her face. "He...he...he promised," she stated once more. "He promised all the people would be fed today!" she insisted. "You cannot do this! You cannot do this! Some of the people haven't eaten for days. They've been standing out in this terrible storm for hours. The children are starving. You cannot do this."

"I can do whatever I want!" Malekith answered. "Do you think the Dragon is truly honor-bound to keep his word to you pathetic bugs?" He questioned. "I don't care if every one of you starves!" she spat. "As long as you learn some respect," he insisted with a snarl as he swung his hand back and aimed it at the young woman's cheek.

Trembling and wet and dirty, she braced herself for impact. Her eyes were closed and she held her breath. The slap never came. After a while, she looked at her surroundings. A tall hooded figure stood between her and Lord Malekith's brutal white knuckles. Malekith's face contorted in pain as a blue hand reached out and grabbed hold of his own All the while allowing the Frost Bite affect to overtake the Dark-Elf. "That's no way to treat a lady," a clipped articulate voice announced.

"Loki!" the maiden gasped.

He dropped his hold on Malekith. The crippling effect of his Frost Giant touch had left the warlord doubled over gasping and clutching his hand. Loki smiled at the woman beneath his hood and she could make out his handsome blue face. "Sigyn," he mouthed back to her as he extended a covered hand to help her up. Her hand was quivering, but she reciprocated the gesture and reached back out for his.

Their hands never made contact though, no sooner than were their fingertips about make contact than did they hear Malekith shout out. "Seize him!" Immediately, his soldiers swarmed around the Frost Giant. They immediately accosted him, laying hands on him, grappling him and dragging him down to his knees to subdue him. Others surrounded him and pointed their electro-blasters right at him. Lady Sigyn and Queen Frigga huddled together. Loki didn't put up a struggle. As they arrested him and hoisted him to his feet he wore a signature smirk. Malekith finally managed to get himself together. He stood up and stepped toward the Jotun. He also wore a grin on his face. "Well...well...well" he began. "We've been expecting you," he reported.

Loki's smirk never faltered. "So good to be missed."

Malekith rolled his soulless eyes. "Take him to the Dragon," he ordered.

Loki was roughly carted to the Great Hall of Judgment, the place where Odin and all the all-fathers of the past had presided with mercy and wisdom. Now it was the execution chamber of a monster. He couldn't let these things be. The Dark-Elves had him tied up and handcuffed with his hands behind his back. Malekith had ordered about 20 of his most elite soldiers to escort the newly captured prisoner. He warned them of the trickery and craftiness of the Frost Giant that they had in custody. The guards, ever vigilant and ever obedient to their lord surrounded Loki in good fashion and held him at gunpoint as they marched him down the long, dark corridors. Everything that had once been filled with beauty and light and made jewels and fine minerals was now corroded and corrupted and was nothing more than a monument for darkness.

Malekith proudly strolled in front of his soldiers. His chest was puffed out and his head was held high as he took long, stomping strides. "We were beginning to think that you'd never show," Malekith chuckled as he looked back at the Frost Giant. "Not that we were mad about the fact," the leader of the Dark-Elves spoke in his natural tongue. "Not that it will make much difference now," he rumbled with pleasure low in his throat. He rubbed his chalky, white hands together. "Look at all that the Dragon and Thanos have accomplished," he ordered Loki as he stretched forth his hands and made boast of their accommodations. He ran his dark tongue over his bloodless lips, "It's marvelously horrid, isn't it?" he prompted. He breathed in the warm putrid as they approached the dragon's lair. "The Aether has cleansed these realms of all remnants of light and peace and love," he gloated.

"By cleansed...you mean obliterated," Loki snapped.

Malekith tossed his head back and laughed. "The old days are done! Chaos, war and violence these are the foundations of the universe. The natural state..." Malekith rambled on. "And if you think you can do anything about that...if you think you can change anything then you are dead wrong!" he swore. "You're no match for fate," he warned. His heartless eyes made sure to turn and face Loki. He still wore a devilish smile on his face. He longed to see the dread in those bright red eyes that were plastered to a cobalt face. He growled when he saw the Loki mirrored his same smug expression. Malekith yelled in his frustration. He pushed past his guards and took care to shove Loki. "Your fate is sealed anyway," he declared after he sucker-punched the enchanter in the stomach. Loki doubled over gasping and fell to his knees. The general took great pleasure in seeing the pain and it made the Aether surge within him. He gripped Loki by his raven-hair, he held a tight grip and twisted it so that Loki's neck craned backward. Loki gritted his teeth and his red eye glared flaming daggers at the Dark-Elf warlord. "Let me go in and announce you properly, your highness," he said with a cackle as he gave a sweeping bow just before he pushed open the gigantic doors that led to Great Hall of Judgment.

Inside the chamber was dark in color, the polished marble and white limestone and gold were replaced with obsidian and onyx stone and all the fixtures and designs were gnarled and jagged and spiked and dangerous looking. The lighting was mad of the deep ember red glow of the Aether. There the dragon sat in the center of the room that was full of bones and remains and corpses. He sat on a pile of charred skeletons as a throne. Blood ran like a fountain in the room. The smell of rotting bodies lingered in the air and it was nauseating.

The dragon raised its serpentine head. Its large, shiny, gold eyes opened. Its long, forked tongue flickered from in between its sword-like teeth as it sniffed the air. The green scales of its lips peeled back revealed the faint hint of red that stained the points of its teeth. Smoke erupted from its deadly mouth. "There is a storm brewing, Lord Malekith," the creature announced.

"Indeed, you are right, my liege," Malekith said as he came into the beast's presence and dropped to one knee. " A storm rages, the likes of which I have not seen. It will cause much damage and many deaths," he professed with a clear smile on his bloodless lips.

"Then what news bring you to me?" The dragon questioned.

"A rabble-rouser, a defector for you to deal with," Malekith stated as he rubbed his hands together. His eyes looked and strew and destroyed bodies of the other.

"Your men could not quell him?"

"I thought this one would be of particular interest to you," Malekith winked.

"Bring him to me," the dragon declared as he let out a chuckle that allowed more smoke to escape from his mouth.

"With pleasure," declared Lord Malekith. He once again rubbed his hands together. He turned back to the great, giant doors that lead into the Hall of Judgment. He gave a distinctly loud whistle. The heavy door opened with a loud crank sound then it slammed against the wall and the whole structure seemed to rumble. The guards marched in their orders and groupings with military precision.

The dragon's gleaming golden eyes narrowed. "A bit excessive for one prisoner, don't you think?"

"Just wait!" Malekith hissed. The Dark-Elf soldiers marched the prisoner straight toward the throne made of the bones and remained of the other prisoners who had been so unlucky as to find themselves in the dragon's chamber. Lord Malekith barked out a command to his small band in their native language. The men spread apart from encircling the captive and they lined up in single file and stood at attention before the scaly sovereign. The warlord made his way over to where Loki stood in the midst of the soldiers. He slapped Loki in the back of his shackled legs with a hard electro rod and the Jotun immediately sank to his knees. He gasped and hissed from the unexpected sting.

Serpentine lips parted making way to show the rows of sharp snow white teeth that dripped of blood and venom. The dragon's nostril's curled and enlarged. Its tongue flickered and flared. "I thought I smelled something rotten," the dragon spoke. Loki finally managed to control his breathing long enough to look up at the beast that sat on a royal seat. "Look at you," The dragon snarled. Its golden eyes looked the Jotun up and down, "Disssgusssting," he hissed. "You're even more pathetic than I remember. I thought that I'd done away with you."

Loki's icicle blue nose crinkle, his lips curled, "I could say the same about you," he retorted.

"Oh," the dragon made a purring sound. "I can most certainly assure you, you'll never be done away with me," it chuckled.

"Nor you with me," Loki snapped.

"Let me make him eat those words, your excellency!" Malekith jumped in. He immediately stepped right in front of the Frost Giant. Malekith's eyes that were like coals gleamed ever bright. He pulled two, big broad-swords out of their sheaths at his side. He aimed one at Loki's neck. The sword was rippling with the power the Aether. It glowed with a dark and tainted red color. "Let me have the honor of first blood. Allow me to put an end to this enemy of Thanos," he growled. He pointed his sword closer to Loki.

The dragon clicked his black claws on the stone floor. "Calm yourself, Malekith" he stated and swatted at the Dark-Elf General with his tail.

"NO!" Malekith yelled. He pointed his Aether enhanced blades at the dragon. "It is to be my turn," he declared as he thumped his chest. "I have waited a long time for this day," he proclaimed shoulders heaving as he looked over his shoulder at Loki.

The dragon let out a mighty roar. A roar that made the Dark-Elves stand at attention and salute the monster. It was a roar that made Malekith shrink back. "Don't concern yourself with thissss," the thunder lizard paused and allowed its forked tongue to linger in the air. "Frost Giant," he spat out the title. The dragon smiled. "He won't be a problem for us much longer," The dragon cast its yellow eye toward the window. The storm continued to rage. The winds rattled the panes and the rain and hail beat down so heavily upon the glass that it seemed like it would break. "When this storm passes," he announced, "And first light prevails all that will be left is me," the creature grinned. With that, the dragon reared its head. It showed more of its long, black and green neck. There, dangling from its neck, like a medallion was a large chain. It was tightly woven around the creature's neck and it looked like the links in the chain were made of iron and brass. Hanging from the end of the medallion was a crystal sphere. It shined brightly. It was of great clarity and brilliance almost like a diamond. It was transparent and inside of it there was a heart. It was rather small, dark in color and it looked like it was coated over by a thick sheet of ice.

Red eyes grew slightly larger, but Loki's smirk never faltered. "If you're so powerful why don't you fight me yourself!" Loki challenged.

The dragon's forked tongue lapped over his jowls. He licked his talons that still had the delicious flesh of victims under the nails. "You're good as gone anyway," the dragon said nonchalantly swinging his tail. "I need not waste my time with you any longer," the dragon pronounced. It settled contentedly beneath the rubble of bones that made up his dais. The creature blew smoke rings in the air. "We've fought long enough for so long have we not?" the dragon questioned. "It's time for you to give up," the beast wriggled its shoulders as it turned toward Loki. It puffed more smoke in his direction. The heat of the dark smog made Loki's icy flesh uncomfortably warm and made his eyes water with thick black tears that burned. Soon he was coughing.

"Let me finish him!" Malekith demanded like a rabid dog. He was practically panting, pawing and salivating for the opportunity. His men rallied behind him stomping their taser staffs and raising their swords in the air.

"SILENCE!" the dragon snapped its jaws. "A great hunter doesn't waste its time chasing his tail. A king doesn't send his best champion out to fight a petty thief," he expressed as he extended a long claw toward Lord Malekith and his troops. They chuckled toward this. "And I am a great hunter," the dragon professed. "I am a great king," the serpent raised its head high. He cast a sharp glare at Loki and snarled. "Get this disgusting Jotun out of my sight!" He waved his tail. "I have grown weary of his stench," the dictator declared. The Dark-Elf soldiers immediately snapped to and obeyed their king's command. "Take him to where Prince Thor resides, make sure he finds himself in a state even worse than Thor's," the dragon declared.

"Right away your excellency," the Dark-Elves stated in unison as they saluted the sovereign serpent. They roughly grabbed him by his shoulders. They laid hands on him and yanked him by his neck and hair. Loki tried to fight against them. He tried to push and pull away, but every attempt and struggle he made was only met with serve force. They lopped him in the ear with the brass knuckles they wore. They prodded him with their taser staffs. The pain was nearly unbearable. Loki could feel consciousness slipping from him. He mashed his lips together and struggled to stay awake. He found that his vision started to blur and slosh and whirl about. Still, he was able to make out the faces of Malekith and the dragon laughing maniacally, they knew that they had won. And the sad truth was that he knew it too. Every minute was a minute that brought him closer to realizing that Asgard was doomed because of him. If the dragon would not fight then there was no hope that destiny would be changed. Loki's eyelids drooped. His head hung forward and his long dark locks slapped him in the face. With staggering breath and chattering teeth, the enchanter mumbled an apology. "I'm sorry," he stated. "I'm sorry...mother...father...brother ancestors," he stated. "I'm so sorry for everything I've done and where it has led us. I led us all down this dark path...and now...now the darkness is so strong in me...I...I can't stop it. You didn't deserve it and I'm so sorry," he said as tears streaked down his face.

"Quiet!" one of the Dark-Elves ordered him as he slapped him.

Loki's head jerked back and he bit his tongue in pain. He tasted the sticky syrup of Frost Giant blood that flowed through his veins. Once more the wave of dizziness and lightheadedness washed over him. With the tiniest sliver of energy that he could still muster he batted his eyes and focused once more on the dragon's scaly throat. He could still see where his heart was imprisoned by the dragon. A shiny relic that it displayed all the time with pride. He couldn't let this monster win. Not without a fight. "Coward," Loki coughed out as loud as he could. "Coward!" he raised his voice to make sure that that overgrown snake could hear him. Like a viper, the dragon coiled and turned upon hearing the insult.

"Silence!" another Dark-Elf soldier demanded and raised its hand ready to strike.

"Stay your hand soldier," the dragon ordered in an almost amused tone. "let it sssspout a moment," it hissed at Loki.

"So powerful," Loki breathed. "Then why not finish me," Loki taunted as blood and spittle dribbled off of his thin lips. "Prove how powerful you are! Show your army and show the Aesir once and for all," he offered. "Prove to the Nine Realms and show Thanos once and for all that his ideals are correct that fear and hate will always outweigh sentiment and love," he challenged. "If you're truly so powerful then what have you to lose?" Loki asked with a devilish smile playing on his lips.

"What have you to win?" the shrewd creature immediately questioned.

Loki did his best to incline his head toward the bobble that dangled from around the dragon's neck. "My heart," he breathed.

The dragon tossed back its head and laughed. Its cackle crackled through the sky in time with the lightning and thunder. "You have always been a fool," the dragon spat. "You're heart is a worthless thing. Just like you!"

"Then why do you wear it like a badge of honor?" the trickster inquired.

The dragon shook his head. The golden flaps around its ears spread like a mane around its head. "Fine! If you want it...come and get it!" the serpent stated. It wriggled and uncoiled its massive twisted body. It spread its enormous and horrific black wings. It let out an ear-splitting screech. From its throat, it managed to spit a burst of lightning that reached toward the ceiling and cracked open the terrible mural of itself. The ceiling collapsed and the Dark-Elves scattered in fear of the falling debris, blocks and columns. The dragon took to the skies. It soared right above the dark towers and steeples of the Malevolent Citadel. It continued roaring loudly. The Aesir people upon seeing the fearsome creature that rule over them with an iron claw ran for their lives. Taking pleasure in their horror. The ruthless dragon rained down fire and brimstone upon them as the fled for cover.

Loki puffed himself up he gritted his teeth. He growled as he focused and tried to transform. He whispered his ancient incantation. His body flickered for a while as it tried to shift into the right form. He struggled. He finally collapsed on the ground. His body shivering. His red eyes gazed at his quivering blue hands. "Why can't I do it?' Loki asked as he shook his head and tried to get to his feet.

He heard Lord Malekith's terrible laugh in the midst of the wild thunderstorm that raged just outside of the window. "You'll never defeat him," Malekith chimed in. "He's far too powerful now...and you're far too weak," Malekith groundout in the guttural tongue of the Dark-Elves. Loki did his best to ignore the statement. He focused all his efforts on trying to transform. His body flickered, switching for just a second and then falling back into the hideous form of a Frost Giant. Malekith leaned over Loki's shivering body, he beckoned over his soldiers and Loki looked up at a sea of bloodless faces, white as ghosts with pitch black eyes. Their long, crooked, grayish fingers pointing down at him. His breathing became heavy and haggard. He started to feel uncomfortably hot like his frozen flesh would melt clean off his icicle bones. He heard their laughter, their roaring laughter, but managed to shut his eyes. He opened them once more. His red pupils focused. He stared up at the mammoth sized dragon. The massive creature's wingspan spread across the city like a dark cloud. Each flap of the beast's mighty wings seemed to add fuel to the tempest's power. Loki heard the terrified screams of panic just outside the Malevolent Citadel's windows. Then he heard a bloodcurdling, scream that ripped forth from a familiar voice. His eyes went wide as he recognized his mother's panicked cry.

"The people! The people!" called out Frigga. She was hanging on to Lady Sif. She was trembling and shaking and so was her finger as she pointed to her poor subjects who were fleeing with dread. "Where can they go? Where they can they go?" The once queen asked. "They have no shelter," she professed. "They need shelter," she went on.

"Come your majesty," Said Lady Sigyn as she gathered the queen in her arms. She slung the older Aesir woman's arm over her shoulder. She tried to hurry the former royal woman along. "You can't be out here," she expressed. "Tis not safe. Tis not safe," the thin blonde-haired slave girl expressed fearfully.

"Tis not safe for anyone," Frigga stated as she looked back over her shoulder while Sigyn rushed her into the safety of the stronghold of the Malevolent Citadel. "They need to come in. They need to come inside all of them. That monster will destroy Bedlam," she said as she bit her lip and glared up at the muscular dark winged serpent that was taking delight swooping here and swooping there and fiendishly blowing flames on every nook and cranny of the broken down and dilapidated town. "These are my people," Queen Frigga confessed as she stumbled to keep up with Lady Sigyn's quickened pace. "I...I...I can't...I can't just let us be destroyed," she started to sob. "I have to do something, I have to help them...save them..." Frigga said in earnest as she started to try to pull out of Lady Sigyn's tight embrace.

"No, no, no, no, milady you can't say that," Sigyn shook her head and thick, salt tears washed the mud and grime right off her dirty face. "You mustn't talk like that, my lady," she expressed. "You've done everything you could..." Sigyn told her.

"But it hasn't been enough..." she spoke breathlessly. "I haven't done enough for them," she confessed.

"Your majesty you have done everything. You are a queen and you have allowed yourself to become a slave to keep food in their bellies..." Sigyn expressed.

"But they need more," Queen Frigga started. "They deserve more," she ranted. "They need shelter. They have to come into the palace..." she said her blue eyes darting back toward the gnarled and dark castle. "The palace was always supposed to be a place where the people could come and take refuge," she professed.

Lady Sigyn looked up at Malevolent Citadel. It was a pitch black mountain that looked like it was made of tar and iron. It was covered with spikes and briars and barbed wire. Gargoyles guarded the structure. It was not welcoming at all. It was no refuge. Not anymore it was a place of torture. "The dragon will never let the people take safety there my queen. That monster is no king," the platinum blonde-haired maiden stated boldly. "He's a demon!" she spat.

"Then tonight we perish," Queen Frigga confessed as she and Lady Sigyn held each other tight in one another's arms.

"ENOUGH!" Loki's roared as he fired an intense electric pulse. It rippled from his fingertips, a bright electric wave of ultra-violet. It shot forth and knocked the Dark-Elves down and out. The pulse sent them flying into the walls and pillars. It pushed them out the doors and out the windows. He heard Malekith scream as his body collided against the ceiling. He crashed back down to the floor in an unconscious state. Loki managed to get off of his back and cease his trembling. He crawled to his knees and looked around at the bodies of the soldiers scattered around the stone floor. None were moving and the Jotun mage couldn't say that he honestly cared whether they were still alive or not. He took his attention away from their prone forms. He scrambled to the window on unsteady legs. He gazed out. He was high up, stories above the town. The town that was being burnt to a crisp. The small shanty town with homes and buildings that were nothing but thatch rooves and mud-huts and dilapidated hovels made of scraps of tin. Loki's blood boiled as he thought of the fact that this was all that was left of a once thriving metropolis with palaces and temples and edifices that reached toward the heavens and floated high in the sky. If he didn't do something...then all that would be left of his home would be dust and Aether ash. "Oh please...oh please...oh please," Loki begged as his blue fingers clutched tightly at the windowsill. "Merciful Yggdrasil," Loki muttered. "Good Norns," he murmured. "Please," he begged as tears pooled in his bright red eyes. He mashed his lips together and concentrated on his shifting. All at once his shapeshifted completely. His body instantly became long and serpentine and cobalt blue to match his Frost Giant skin. He stretched forth his two magnificent wings. He raised them high and went soaring through the roof where the dragon had broken forth from.

He skyrocketed into the stormy atmosphere. There, they were thousands of feet in the air. Face to face. Two terrible thunder lizards staring each other dead in the eye. They squared off like two opponents in the field. They circled around one another at dizzying speeds. All the while lightning sizzled all around them. Thunder clapped in the distance. And the deep, dark funnel clouds that Loki thought that he had left behind in the far distance of the hill-country seemed to be catching up to him. They growled and snarled and snapped and hissed at each other. Their wings flapped furiously. Causing winds to blow with gale forces. "Well...well...well," the black dragon snapped his jaws, "I was starting to wonder if your bark was worse than your bite and if you were even going to make it a challenge for me," his scaly mouth sneered. "Then again you had always been a disappointment to me," he announced. "Are you still all silver tongue and cotton claw," the much larger monster roared.

"Enough of your chatter!" Loki's red eyes flashed. His forked tongue flickered and flared at his enemy. "Let's finish this, " Loki snapped. His razor sharp teeth at the other creature. He meant to take a bite out of his right foreleg, but the huge black dragon was quick. He easily darted out of the way and avoided the blow.

He turned back and gave a mocking glance. "Oh, yessss!" the other dragon hissed. "Letsss!" With that, the monster belched out another terrible blast of fire. It coated the little thatch rooves of Bedlam in red flame. Everything was burning. It was a rain of fire. Loki could feel the heat rising right off of the rooves of the tiny little huts. The dragon let out smoky laughter. Then he decided to torch the large hailstone that fell like gigantic, flaming marbles from the sky. Loki looked down and watched as the people ran like ants from a heavy boot. He could hear their terrified screams. They covered their heads trying to hide from the fire-falls. But there was no escape. Every shelter they took was ruthlessly and relentlessly set on fire.

"Stop!" Loki yelled. His snake-like eyes wide with horror. "This is between you and me!" Loki declared. "Let the poor people of Bedlam alone! Fight me!" he hollered. "FIGHT ME!" Loki roared and an icy blast shot forth from his throat. He encircled the other dragon in ice. He chilled his scales and coated him with frost.

Scaly, golden eyes turned to fire and he heated himself up and immediately melted the ice off him. The whole body of the dragon became combustible and he burst into flames like a sun. "Oh," the reptilian dictator rumbled with a tone that was nearly a purr, "with pleasure!" the black scaled dragon declared. With that, he bore his fangs. He raised his claws into the air and lunged for Loki's throat.

The larger, black dragon razor-sharp talons wrapped tightly around the blue dragon's neck. He squeezed tightly around the thin snake-like throat. His nails dug deep into the scales. He punctured the rough, icy skin. Loki let out a scream along with spitting ice from his lungs. The ice rained down and mixed with the hail. The beastly dragon grinned, saliva ran down his knife-like incisors. He flapped his wings vigorously and started to carry Loki up higher into the air. Loki scrambled and kicked crawled at the other dragon with his back claws. He was kicking and scratching him with everything that he had, but still, it didn't seem to phase the great, black dragon. His talons seemed to slide right off the other dragon's golden belly. The black dragon continued to toy with Loki, it took him higher and higher into the clouds and continued to try to choke the life out of him. The ice-dragon roared relentlessly and his roar was even louder than the thunder.

"Give up, yet?" the dragon asked with a narrowed golden eye glaring venomously at Loki. He sneered, and snickered and smirked under those scaly lips. His talons clutched around Loki's windpipe. He wrung all the ice from his throat. So much so that his icy breath seemed to freeze the clouds. His breath came out in ragged huffs. He didn't know if it was the air becoming thinner as the elevation got higher or if it was truly the way the sharp, black claw on the thumb of the dragon's foot ruthlessly buried its way through his icy flesh. He couldn't breathe and he had to do something quick. Everything around him was a blur and slur of thick puffy, gray clouds, wind, ice and rain and fire. Finally, Loki thought of his tail. He had an icy club on the end of it. He started to swing it. It was slow at first, just to build up momentum. Soon he was swinging his tail full blast over his head. He clubbed at the black dragon. He hit him with hard, swift, clobbering blows. He beat him over the head. Hitting him on the left side and the right side over the head and with uppercuts under the chin. WAP! WAP! POW! POP! Loki finally managed to stun the might reptilian dictator enough for him to release him. His nails flew off of Loki's throat. And he snorted in astonishment at what had just happened.

Loki too was sent reeling. He struggled to catch his breath and suck in air. His neck was scarred from the claws and thick, inky blood crisscrossed its way down his long neck and ran to his underbelly. His neck ached. The inside of his throat felt raw. He shook his head and looked around. From the altitude, he could see that the poor people of Bedlam were still fleeing in desperate search of shelter. There was no place for them to run. There was no escape from the storm. Most of them seemed to be heading toward the marsh and swampland. Most of the homes in the marsh were nothing but dried mud huts with moss and thatch for rooves. He didn't know if they would hold up against the power of the storm, but the truth of the matter was that they were safer in the swamp than they were within the limits of Bedlam.

The massive onyx dragon still seemed stunned and disoriented after the clobbering. The creature was flying around in dizzying, agitated circles. He was hollering and moaning and he had his forefoot covering one of his eyes. Loki saw his opportunity, the heart, the heart was still dangling from the black dragon's neck. If he could just grab it. He could finish this. Loki gritted his teeth. He focused his sights. He dove toward the other dragon, his body twisted and twirled and spiraled through the clouds aimed right at the black dragon. He rammed right into the much larger serpent's midsection. Loki's horns went right into the creature's stomach and beast that lorded over the poor people of Bedlam let out a bloodcurdling scream. It raised its head toward the sky and blasted out smoke and flame. The heavens were set alight. The haze of vibrant red and searing orange took permeated the atmosphere. The chain where his heart was being held captive was completely exposed. Loki's icicle claws reached out to take hold, but just as the very tip of his talon was about the breach the orb and take hold of the heart the black dragon got out of dodge.

He darted out of the way and soared higher into the air. The monster left Loki bewildered as to where it was. Loki's blaring red eyes scanned the stormy skies, but he could scarcely make out anything in the teaming rain and the ferocious beating of the hailstones. The Dark dragon darted and skidded and hid among the clouds. Clouds that were as horribly black as the dragon's wings. The other dragon was completely camouflaged. Loki's beady red eyes scanned and searched among the clouds. He would see a fast-moving shadow, but he couldn't exactly track where the other dragon was. His nostrils flared as he sniffed about and tried to catch a whiff of the potent stench of sulfur that coated the black scaled dragon's body. It must have been drowned out and washed away with the rain. Or either it had gotten mixed and mingled with the heady scent of fire, smoke and burning wood and stubble. Either way, the pungent odor wasn't traceable. Loki started to rise. He flew higher to search for his opponent. He flew back and forth desperate to find the winged beast. He still saw no sign of the dragon ruler of Bedlam. For a moment Loki tried to concentrate to focus his powers and see if he could sense the monster. But even as Loki tried he could feel the strain that it put on him. He started to descend almost immediately, no longer able to maintain the same altitude in flight. If he kept trying to use too many powers at once he was sure that he would lose his shape-shifting altogether. But then, out of nowhere, the mammoth-sized black dragon came diving down out of the clouds. He was moving like a torpedo.

Spiraling like an arrow through the sky. He came with a roar of flames bursting forth from its mouth. IT shot its powerful blast right at the ice dragon. Loki didn't have time to get out of range. His body was soon engulfed in the torrent of flames. Loki let out a loud cry. The flames were nearly lethal to his frozen scales. Loki flew furiously out of the cloud of fire that surrounded him. He emerged singed and scathed. His wings looked tattered and charged, the plates and spines on his back looked as if they were melting off of him. Loki tried to catch his breath and get his bearings about him. He didn't have time. Savagely, the dark dragon came forth once more and rammed Loki in the stomach. He sent Loki hurling back through clouds and nearly tumbling out of the sky. It took all the strength that Loki possessed to stay airborne. The tips of his frosty wings nearly touched down on the ground. He was almost responsible for crushing several innocent citizens. Loki pulled up immediately. His wings ached from the burns he had sustained. Still, as he pulled himself back up into the air and gazed up at the demonic looking black dragon that's massive wingspan loomed over the city like a dark destiny, he tried to shake off his pain and show bravery and fortitude. The monstrous black dragon's serpentine features curled into a sadistic smile It's forked tongue lashed out and beckoned Loki forward. He laughed tauntingly at the blue dragon. Smoke rings came puffing out its mouth as it did so. Loki's breathing intensified and his icy wings pumped furiously to maintain flight. He spat several icy blasts in the bigger thunder lizard's direction. They came out like giant snowballs, but each blast the dark dragon managed to evade with expert timing and precision. Loki was left winded and exhausted after his valiant efforts had proven futile. The dark dragon once more took advantage of Loki's weakness. Its mouth was wide open and set to take a bite out of Loki as he came barreling down toward him. And he did. He wrapped his jaws around the back of Loki's long neck. It dug its fangs in deep and slung him around a dead kill. Finally, it flung Loki right into the very tower of Malevolent Citadel.

Loki's large reptilian form crashed into the spiny tower and the spires. He broke it to bits and the large stones and cinder blocks that made up the dark structure came tumbling down. The dragon's back arched as he felt his icy bones crack and crunch from the way he collided. He found himself lying in the midst of the rubble in the tower. His form started to flicker. Slowly, his body started to morph from that of a mighty snake back into that of A Frost Giant. Loki shuddered and shivered, gaped and gasped as he lied in the wreckage broken and bleeding and terribly beaten. As Loki's body slowly transformed back into a Frost Giant he felt the searing ache of freshly cracked ribs and dislocated shoulders. He raised his hand to massage his shoulder. even just reaching his hand up to rub his wounded shoulder caused him to nearly holler in pain. He immediately fell back onto the broken black bits and bits of debris and shattered stained glass that had been depictions of the horrific power of the dragon. Loki reached his hand out. He was trying to once again push himself out of the pile of rocks, but his efforts caused him to wince in pain and cut scrape his finger against the stained glass. He picked up the broken piece. It was the image of the dragon with piercing eyes with a gaze that was all too shrewd and familiar and a sinister smile that matched his own staring right back at him. Loki hurled the piece away from him in horror. "He's stronger than I thought," Loki muttered to no one in particular. "I knew he was powerful..." Loki said in a winded voice as he tried to catch his breath. "But I didn't know he was this powerful," he admitted. "I can't defeat him...not like this..." he muttered as he looked at his icy blue hands. He debated trying to call upon his healing abilities, although they were limited, to try and mend his broken ribs, but the magic made his palms heat up and in this state, he couldn't stand the heat. Loki let out one more shudder and gasp. "Not alone," he mumbled. "I can't," he breathed. He was so tired, he was so weary. The day had been so terribly, terribly long and he just wanted it to end. He was just one man. He wasn't even a Prince of Asgard, he wasn't even an Aesir, he was just a Jotun, he was just the son of a monster and murderer. What part did he have to play in saving the world? He wasn't a hero. Loki's sharp as ice facial features quirked and twitched as they went from a deep scowl to almost a crooked cackling laugh. He wasn't a hero. He wasn't meant to be one. No matter how hard he tried, whatever he put his hand to always came out corrupted and twisted and evil. That's what he was...that's who he was...a villain...a loser. "I'm so sorry," Loki blubbered.

Loki's eyes slammed shut. He could feel tiredness engulfing his body. He could feel it wrapping around him and swallowing him whole. It would take over and consume and he'd ride that dark and deep wave of sleep all the way to morning and then he'd accept the condemnation of his soul that came with the grim fate that he'd left the Nine Realms to suffer through. So wounded and tired he started to drift off. Just as he felt himself sinking away he heard a bloodcurdling cry. It startled him out of his deep sleep. He sat up, bolt straight. "Mother," the blue-skinned enchanter rasped as he clutched his sore sides. He flung himself toward the broken window of the broken tower. He practically had to crawl his way there he was in such bad shape. "Come on, your majesty run!" cried Lady Sigyn as she tried to usher the much older woman. Along. His mother could hardly stand she was so weakened and Lady Sigyn was desperately trying to get her toward the safety of the stronghold door of the Malevolent Citadel. The dark dragon was hot on the tails of the two Aesir women as they hobbled toward shelter. The dragon was flying so low to the ground that he was practically slithering through the muddy streets. His snake-like body twisted and twirled its way through the burning town and he ruthlessly knocked people over. It crushed them without regard singed them the clawed at them taking them out left and right. It would blow a puff of smoke in the direction of the petrified denizens of Bedlam. He watched how his putrid breath reduced the poor people to ash instantly. Loki screamed as he watched. The dragon's vicious tongue lashed and thrashed and it had nearly caught the two women. "Mother! Sigyn! RUN!" Lok shouted from the roofless tower. He had shouted at the top of his lungs. But he doubted that they could hear him over the roar of the boisterous thunder, the beating of the teaming rain and hail, the cries of the people and the hissing of the venomous, monstrous viper who roamed the streets.

The black dragon was on their heels and Sigyn gave the queen a shove out of the way. She pushed her right into the doorpost of the citadel. Lady Sigyn watched as the queen tumbled to the area of safety and she was about to follow through and do the same but just as she was about to the big, slick, forked-tongue of the dragon wrapped around Lady Sigyns leg and yanked her from the ground. "Sigyn!" Queen Frigga called with her hand outstretched as if she would try to snatch the woman from the foul clutches of the dragon. The blonde-haired woman was screaming her head off. Her finger reaching as long and as far and wide as they could, but they couldn't reach Frigga.

"No!" Loki gasped as he stumbled forward.

The dragon soared higher into the air. It laughed and cackled and blew magnificent balls of fire into the air in victory. It opened one evil green eye and that eye roved and scoured the city. It landed on its next target. Instantly, the creature did a nosedive. "Come on grandfather! Come on Grandfather!" urged little Nyky as she grabbed the elderly Vanir man by the hand. He fell over as he chased after his granddaughter. Lord Audric was face first in the mud.

"Go, Nyky, run child!" he told her. "Run on without me" he encouraged her. "I can't make," he stated as he clutched his heart.

Vernoyka shook her head, she held fast to his wrinkled hands. "I'm not leaving you, grandfather, ever," she told him with tears in her emerald eyes and a smile on her young dirty face. No sooner had the statement escaped the young girl's lips did terrible talons, razor sharp and black as night swoop down and scoop the child up taking her from her grandfather's loving hands. "GRANDFATHER!" HELP ME!" Veronyka shrieked.

"NYKY!" the old man yelled as he tried to chase after the thunder lizard to no avail.

The Dragon soared just above the Malevolent Citadel. He roared loudly. "COME FORTH LOKI! COME FORTH! SAVE YOUR DEAR ONES!" The dragon kept calling. It kept ranting and raving and fuming and flaming as it challenged Loki. Before long the ugly creature had torched all of Bedlam. There was not one roof on any of the poor shantytown houses that wasn't burning. The heavy downpour had saturated the muddy alleyways until they were flooded and running over with water. The people who hadn't managed to flee where being washed down the river by the freshly formed rapids. "COME FORTH, LOKI! COME FORTH!" the monster bellowed. Its serpentine body twined around the tallest spire on the highest tower of what once was a palace. It stretched forth its long neck and roared some more. "DON'T YOU CARE THAT YOUR PEOPLE PERISH?" it questioned. Loki's icy heart thumped and thundered like a race horse's hooves across the track on his ribs. His breathing came out short and ragged and quick. He did care. He cared oh so much. "COWARD!" the dragon taunted from his perch atop the castle spires. "Oh once a coward always a coward," the dragon chuckled. Its deep green eyes gazed down at the trembling little girl a frightened handmaiden that he had in the confines of its clutches.

Loki sat with his back pressed against the piles of broken stones. He could scarcely breathe. He doubted he'd be able to shapeshift again. His powers were weak. Then he looked at the sky. The storm still raged just as violently and tempestuously as it had been raging. He saw the vicious whirlwinds swirling and spinning ever closer to him. The sky had darkened greatly. The hour was growing later and when darkness descended upon Bedlam then a new day would dawn in Asgard. Dawn that would seal their fate and usher in doom. But there wasn't time. There wasn't any time at all. Loki mouth hung open as he gazed out and noted how with every passing second it grew darker and the sound the tornadoes grew louder.

The dragon arched its big, black shoulders. "Oh well," it shrugged and then looked back down at its prisoners. "I suppose all victory should be commenced with a feast," its forked tongue came out of its mouth. Sigyn gathered little Nyky in her arms and held her protectively.

Just then, the song of their ancestors rang in his ears. There was no one around to sing it, but Loki heard it clear as a bell as if an entire chorus was singing. "The Fates love Asgard...we have to keep believing...the spirit keeps on burning while the flesh is torn apart"

"Take me in my dream's recurring," Loki muttered along with the chorus. "One more longing backward glance," he sang as he looked over his shoulder and back at the dragon. The vicious snake then uncoiled from around the spire of the structure and swooped down back behind the black edifice and planted itself in the courtyard. "I won't let you down," Loki swore as he looked up. Then he raced from the crumbling tower down the courtyard. His feet couldn't carry him fast enough. There was a lump in his throat the size of a boulder. His heart thundered and hammered against his ribs and chest with the power and velocity of Mjolnir.

His mind was all a race and blur, but finally, his winged feet managed to carry him down to the courtyard. The courtyard, which had always been a beautiful and decorative place was now dark and crumbling and had fallen into complete disrepair. It was gloomy and foreboding. The tile and limestone had cracked and chipped and it looked decayed. It was once polished and shiny, but now the luster had gone right out of it. Everything was dusty and musty and coated with the thick clumpy ash of the Aether. Loki treaded softly across the broken bricks and cracked roads of the courtyard. The power of the Aether mutated and mutilated everything it touched. The columns and pillars had chipped and rotted away and they'd fallen like bodies on the battlefield. The flora that was once lush and green were no more the grass was the color of dry-rot. The tentacle-like black vines slithered their way up the sides of the wall Loki crunched it under his boots. The trees were gnarled and withered. They were hollowed out and they had holes in them that made faces like phantoms. They were twisted and into grotesque shapes that caused eerie shadows to linger on the broken paths. The gazebos that had once stood for the ladies of the court to stand under and gossip were now only populated by cobwebs and spiders and bats. Loki walked past one of the rusted rundown gazebos and a whole flock of bats flooded out from under the sunken in the roof the gazebo and went flapping and screeching right toward Loki. The enchanter shielded his face and body from the crazy, rabid rodents with wings, but they kept right on flapping furiously toward him. The sharp nails on their feet caught on in Loki's clothing and hair. His arms flailed out and about and above him. His distress only caused the bats to become more frantic and pull harder and harder. Finally, Loki sent out a penetrating beam of white light from his right palm. The frantic mammals sent out a harrowing screech as they were blinded by the light. The fluttered away in a frenzied flurry.\

Once the bats had disappeared Loki focused his attention back toward the dragon. The sky was dark with heavy clouds. Not a good sign. Time was running out. The rain still beat down upon the ground. The large hailstones pelted him and hit him on the head and back and sparks of red flew and burst into the flames when they hit the ground. The lightning that danced across the sky was the only illumination that came to the courtyard. There was no sign of the dragon. Loki's eyes were peeled and he was cautious. He was careful where he stepped. He looked over his shoulder. His bright red eyes were narrowed. "Where are you?" the Frost Giant wondered out loud. The vicious reptile stood at an impressive 15ft tall. It's wingspan nearly doubled that length and from the tip of its snout to the pointed spikes on the back of its tail, Loki was positive that their beast's body stretched 50ft. How could it hide? Where could it be? Perhaps he had been wrong. Perhaps the creature hadn't gone into the courtyard. Had his eyes deceived him so. Loki's eyes grew wide, his breath was soon caught in his throat. It hurt to breathe. No. He mashed his lips together, he gritted his teeth, his blue fist balled tightly as his nails dug into his palms. How could he have been so stupid? He'd wasted their time. He'd wasted Asgard's time. The sun had nearly set here and that meant that the sun had nearly risen. Loki's head spun and swiveled and swung side to side, his raven locks slapped him in the face.

Then he heard something. Something at first that he just easily had dismissed as the roar of thunder. He forced himself to pay more attention and to listen more closely. Loki spun back around on his heels his face as firm as flint. He could hear the dragon breathing and could feel the heat of its fiery breath on his frozen skin. Loki reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out one of his daggers. He swiftly concealed it inside his sleeve. "Show yourself!" Loki declared as he shouted at nothing apparent. Slowly, out of thin air sharp, knife-like teeth were revealed and so were the black scales of the mouth which possessed the terrible teeth. Soon the dragon's whole beastly form was revealed. It sat on its haunches. Its wings were spread wide and it was laughing cruelly. "Where are they?" Loki demanded of the monster through gritted teeth. The dragon responded with a hiss and flick of its forked tongue and laughter that culminated in puffs smoke being blown into the air. "TELL ME!" the Frost Giant shouted with tears pooling in his eyes as he raised the dagger toward the dragon.

The dragon looked down at the puny weapon with much disinterest. The blade did not pose much of a threat to him. It was about a deadly to him like a toothpick. He snorted. "They are gone," the creature declared. "Consumed by me," the dragon boasted and raised its head high and pointed its talons at itself.

"What? No!" Loki stumbled backward as he shook his head in protest. "You're lying!" he insisted.

The dragon shook its head and scratched and patted it big jeweled belly. "Why would I lie?" the creature questioned.

"For you, I imagine it comes as easily as breathing," Loki retorted as he continued to take steps backward.

"Well," the black serpent rumbled its voice low in its throat, "You would know," it confessed. "Oh, Loki," the creature continued as it bent itself onto all fours. "Your greed, lust, anger and jealous have fueled me and it is these things that have destroyed those that you love and will continue to destroy everything that you ever cared about until there is nothing left," the dragon explained. "And it will come by my hand," the dragon expressed as it raised one lumbering foot to walk closer toward Loki. "Or should I say your hand," the monster extended its claw to point toward Loki. It guffawed. "Your world and your family will be extinguished and it will be all your fault!" It hissed.

"No," Loki crouched down and cowered. He held his head and practically folded himself into a ball. "Please," he pleaded.

The dragon rumbled as it took a few steps closer. "Oh yes!" it hissed its forked tongue flying out. There is nothing that you can do to stop it." the enormous shoulders shrugged. its large frame hovered over Loki. Loki was balled up in the corner. He was pressed against the wall. "There's nowhere left to run, Loki," the dragon looked around. It had backed its prey into a corner. Trapped and quivering and exhausted the dragon was sure that it had won. "It's the end of the line," he explained. Its breath hot on Loki's back. So hot that it burned and scalded. "But don't worry," its tone was gentle. "I will make it quick," his claw dangled just over Loki's spine. "Painless," the vicious creature hissed. "I'll give you that much mercy," the dragon's mighty spiked shoulders arched upward. "Afterall," smoke rings flew from his mouth. "You are apart of me," he offered. "And I promise, I will make us strong," the monster said as he licked his lips and the shadow of its dripping venomous teeth appeared on the wall. The serpentine body twisted. The mouth spread wider. The fangs dripped with even more venom. The powerful jowls dove down ready to devour and consume Loki. Just as the teeth were about to chomp him into bits Loki rolled just out of dodge. He rolled away and made himself invisible. The dragon's dark snout and razor-sharp ivory white teeth kissed the gravel. It tasted rocks. The tiny stones were caught between its knife-like incisors, thick pebbles caught on his tongue. The black beast let out a roar of rage. It shot fire into the air. Its green eyes saw red. Its talons slashed crazily through the air. Those slit like green eyes around wildly for the prey. It snorted loudly and boisterously and as it tried to get the dirt and dust out of its nose s that it could properly sniff out its quarry. The dragon looked around, eyes focused, nostrils flaring in the wind as it tried to hone in on the scent. Loki was nowhere to be seen or found. The dragon started to fume and stomp angrily. Each strike of its feet cracking the ground more and causing the earth to shake. "Come out! Come out! Come out! I'll crush you! I'll kill you!" the beast railed. It snorted and shook. "You'll not stop me! You'll not stop Thanos!" it protested. "You'll not thwart what is to come!" the animal raged.

The serpent soon felt tiny footsteps dancing their way up from its tail and along its spine. The brutal monster bucked furiously. Its body arching and writhing slithering and snaking about beneath Loki. Loki nearly fell off of its back. He fell down upon the scaly spine and held fast. The dragon must have felt the way the Frost Giant's fingers dug beneath its flesh to hold on for it started to spin and twirl and move more crazily. Loki pulled out his dagger and with one swift motion, he drove it into the dragon's side. The dragon screamed out and lightning spit from its mouth. Its movements immediately becoming erratic and ballistic. Loki gritted his teeth and sank his knife in deeper so that he could stay on the dragon's back. He managed to maintain his grip. He kept taking stabs at the dragon's back as he climbed up the spine. Each wound drove the dragon insane. The animal flipped and flopped on the ground doing all it could to knock Loki off of its back. When the dragon threw itself on its back Loki skitted and skirted to crawling on the dragon's belly. Loki landed a sharp blow of his dagger to the snake's belly. The dragon rolled back over and slammed himself on the ground. Loki hand managed to wound the beast greatly. It was bleeding all over. Its putrid blood black as tar started to pool all around. He could do it. He could beat this monster. As the dragon writhed on the ground Loki saw the chain on the dragon's neck the chain that held his heart.

One blue hand grasped and reached out desperately for the priceless, precious prize that dangled from the dragon's neck. The dragon's talons came around so that they could scratch at and claw and tear at that parasite that pestering him. The dragon was in a fitful frenzy. It threw itself to the ground. It tore itself up. Its own deadly claws slashing and tearing through the armor of its black scales. Its talons were everywhere. All over the place, all at once, silver flashes of lightning as the killer claws tried to rip him to shreds, but they couldn't catch him. The trickster managed to evade every slash and stab. The dragon only ended up clawing itself up all the while Loki climbed up the animal's spine and landed on its neck where the heavy gold chain that held his heart sat. Loki brought out his other dagger. One dagger he planted in the flesh of the dragon's neck to hold on to. The other he used to make quick work and saw off the chain. His magic dagger worked well. He sawed backward and forward, forward and backward as furiously and as vigorously as he could. Infused with properties that made it sharper than any two-edged sword and the iron cut back and forth until it finally cut through the gold like butter and the chain fell from around the dragon's neck.

The chain popped and clanked as it slid from the scales. Loki was breathless and relieved. Immediately his senses returned to him. His hand reached out to try to catch the edge of the chain. It slipped through his invisible blue fingers. Before he could even think of the words from the old levitation enchantment to float the necklace back up to himself the chain fell onto the broken stones and ruins with a clatter. It clanked loudly as it fell amongst the rubble and moss and thorny weeds. The thin glass orb that kept the fleshy, red heart imprisoned shattered into a million pieces upon impact. The heart bounced like a rubber ball on the ground. Loki audibly gasped and let out a wheeze, the blow caused unbearable pain to seized the enchanter's chest. His eyes watered, he bit into his thin blue lip. His eyes were wide, he watched with intensity, his breath stuck in his throat as he gazed down at the ground thinking that one of the overgrown thistles or the jagged pieces of rock would splinter his heart. He slumped over and clutched the dragon's neck to keep from falling off of the beast's back.

The monster gave a ferocious outcry and reared on its haunches. It flapped its wings frantically before propelling itself in the air with Loki clinging for dear life, dangling from the hilt of the dagger from its back. The dragon flipped and twisted and twirled and spiraled as it careened through the ever darkening clouds in the sky. It raced and pushed and flew faster and faster and more furiously like he was riding on a torpedo. Loki could feel himself slipping. His icy hands were starting to sweat, the ice melting from around his fingers. His grip slackened and he flew from the winged serpent's back.

The enchanter tumbled down through the black night sky. As he fell the rain and hail pelted him. Loki let out a scream. Falling through the darkness, crashing into bits and pieces that cut his skin reminded him too much of when he had fallen from the Bifrost. He had landed in a world most unpleasant when after eons he finally hit the ground. It'll happen again if you don't do something, you fool! Do something! With that Loki righted himself, he tried to flip over. He thought tried to shapeshift. He concentrated and he could feel his body morphing, it felt could to once again take on the powerful dragon form once more. Just as his hands and feet began to grow and become claws, the mammoth sized black dragon came crashing down into Loki. It headbutted him with its horrible horns and knocked the shape-shifter right out of the air.

The dark-haired enchanter slammed against the broken cobblestones and bricks. His fall was so heavy and hard that it created and crater and Loki's listless cobalt blue body lie smack dab in the center of it. He struck his head. He was bleeding profusely. He was dizzy and bewildered. His head was aching, sticky, black blood rushed down his forehead and into his eyes. He could scarcely sit up. The rain water started the gather in the crater ever so quickly and Loki knew if he didn't do something fast he'd face a watery grave. Try as he might he could scarcely move. The water started to surround his face. He gulped, his eyes darting back and forth. He tried to move his feet and arms so that he could tread the water, but his limbs were like jelly, they were stubborn and sluggish and they wouldn't obey his commands. His body sank and slipped under the pooling rainwater. He could scarcely think and all his powers seemed to be on the fritz. Even his own ability to control his body seemed utterly diminished. His head slipped into the water, but somehow, innately the natural powers of the Jotun took over. He froze the water around and pushed himself up to the top where he laid on a cool sheet of ice. He was gasping for air but he was breathing.

The dragon had been circling around, just overhead, like a vicious vulture. The was snakelike smile pasted on its face. He heard the creature's bellow of a laugh as it gloried in its victory. It was ready to gobble Loki up. While circling it noticed Loki's body twitching and moving. It's reptilian green eyes dilated. How was he even still alive. It noticed Loki daring to inch and drag and crawl across the ice. He could hardly move a muscle, even the slightest stir sent sharp pains pulsating throughout his body, but still, he persevered. Icy fingers reaching out for the heart that was only a few feet away. "Almostthere...almostthere," Loki mumbled breathlessly. His red eyes barely managed to stay open. They fluttered as the world started to go dark around him. "Mmm...staywake..." he admonished himself. His hand seemed just out of reach of skimming the bloody, still beating heart.

Loki's hand was about to make contact with a gust of flames was blown right at him. The red, hot flames burned in frozen fingers. Loki let out a bloodcurdling cry. Never had he felt such agony. Flame against ice and fire had certainly one. Loki screamed for a long while. Torrential tears rained down on his cheeks scalding him all the more. Loki didn't have time to think about the excruciating pain nor did he have time to examine the toll that the burns had taken on his frozen skin. When he finally managed to open his eyes he was alarmed to find a firewall had been built around him. It towered over him. The enormous tangerine flames leaping and lapping and standing over ten feet tall. The Frost Giant did his best to clamber to his feet. He was surrounded on all sides. Fire was all around him. Smoke started to smolder and simmer. It encased him and trapped him. Even despite the fact that sheets of rain were failing from the sky at alarming rates. Nothing put out the fire.

"You didn't think I'd let it be that easy for you," The dragon sneered. It hovered just over head and it seemed ready to spit fire at him again. Loki coughed and choked on the thick could smoke that was built up around the firewall. Death by fire was the worse way for a Jotun to die. He remembered reading in the old history books how a Frost Giant caught in Asgard had often been boiled in oil. They also found the cremations a horrifying practice. Loki had endured many things, he'd survived fates worse than death. But somehow the thought of being burned to death with Jotun flesh seemed so much more gruesome than the other things that he had faced. Breathing was becoming more difficult. He was slumped on the floor. He was frantic and scared but unable to think of a way out. Then he recognized that that there truly was a death worse than one by fire.

Just outside the wall of fire, the dragon landed. It put its nose to the ground and sniffed around for the heart. The dragon emitted a pleasant purring sound as found the heart. Vermillion amongst the gray and black thorns. The creature reached its claws into the thistles. The heart had slipped into the cracks, but the dragon's razor sharp talons nearly had it. All of a sudden Loki appeared to be standing next to the bramble path of thorn's and thistles. The dragon did a double take. It growled and snorted and then lunged forward to snap at Loki. He had him in his teeth, but tasted nothing. The Jotun runt seemed to instantly disappear. Bewildered, the dragon looked around once more. This time it found Loki's form standing by a crumbling wall. The black serpent snarled. Its powerful claws slashed through the air and right through the dilapidated old stone wall. The stones came tumbling down. They crushed the dragon's foot. It yowled. After managing to shimmy its scaly food out from underneath the thick, heavy bricks and shaking it to get rid of the throbbing it found that its talons were devoid of one gangly, blue body. Snapping and veering the dragon spun around once more only to find that the trickster had once again evaded him and was standing right next to the firewall. He was taunting the dragon. Teasing the dragon with a smug expression plastered on this thin cobalt lips. The dragon raged. It roared loudly. It immediately swung its tail around. The giant clubbed tail slammed down and pounded the flame. Its skin was impervious to fire and so it inadvertently smothered the flames. With that, the real Loki was able to quickly hightail it toward his heart. He was still in a great deal of discomfort. He wasn't moving as fast as he would have liked. But he hobbled as quickly as he feet would allow him too.

The dragon was still pounding away on the firewall, when he noticed the Frost Giants limping form stumbling toward the heart. With venom in its eyes, its pressed its body to the ground and slithered quickly like a viper toward Loki. Loki's hands anxiously reached toward the heart. He was right there. He could practically feel his own heart, but Just then the dragon slunk its tail around Loki's thin ankle. It yanked him right away from the heart and dragged him across the rough ground. It then spun Loki around like a top and wrapped him in its coils. Loki was face to face with the beast. Its face as cruel as its breath was foul. Smoke came from between its teeth. "You've wounded me, Loki" the creature admitted. Its eyes flashed down to look at its bloodied body. "I give you full marks for that," it inclined its head in Loki's direction. "But now it's time for this to end," the dragon chuckled as it wound its coils tighter around Loki' tiny frame and constricted him.

"I defeated you once and I'll defeat you again!" Loki choked out though he could hardly breathe.

"Defeat me?" The dragon looked around as if perplexed by the statement. "You created me." The dragon let out a chuckle that shook the ground. "All your years of jealousy and envy, bitterness, anger, rage, violence and look at what it has wrought," the dragon continued to rumble.

"No, I never wanted you!" Loki said he struggled and wriggled while in the dragon's clutches.

"No, Loki, I never wanted you," the serpent snarled. "All your sniveling and simpering and all of your disgusting sentiment sickens," the oversized snake hissed. "I've had all I'm going to take out of you," the dragon snapped his jaws. "This world is mine!" he professed. He twined and coiled wrapped Loki tighter and tighter. Loki yelped as the constrictions took hold of his body and pressed his innards until they felt like they were going to be outwards. "Give in to it Loki," the dragon demanded with a roar. "Struggling is useless, now," The dragon admonished him. "Resistance is futile," the serpent expressed with his forked tongue flashing. His eyes started spinning in a swirling pattern. Rainbow colors going around and around. Loki tried to look away. He genuinely tried to, but the dragon's coils were getting tighter and tighter and they were wrapping higher and higher around Loki's body until it was up to his neck and he couldn't even turn his head. Before he could shut his eyes he had already been locked into the trance. Soon Loki's eyes were overtaken by the same swirling pattern as the dragon's. Their eyes were locked. "That's it," he stated. "Sleep, just like Odin" And Loki's head bobbled, his eyes started to shut. He nodded off. His head dropped. Unconscious at last. The dragon smiled wickedly. Each knife-life tooth gleamed. "Goodbye, Loki," The thunder lizard stated. He opened his massive mouth and lowered his head ready to eat Loki up. His breath hot enough to burn Loki up. Just as he was about to devour him, Loki's head snapped to attention and one of his magic daggers fueled with the power of ice and snow made its way right into the dragon's evil green eye. The dragon roared! It was furious and in agony. Loki thrust his icy dagger out of the animal's eye with the eyeball still attached. The dragon immediately unraveled its coils from around Loki's blue body. He crashed to the ground while the dragon writhed and wriggle like a worm on a hook. He clawed at his eye as it oozed hot and steamy, black blood.

While the dragon was distracted by its own distress and new found blindness, Loki scrambled as fast as his battered legs would carry him toward the heart. The dragon must have caught him running out the corner of his good eye. It yelled "NOOOOOO!" And took off like a shot after the Frost Giant. Loki immediately turned around and hit the dragon with an icy blast. He bound the dragon's left front foot in an icy shackle and did the same to the right. The dragon raged. Angry, it threw itself all around trying to escape the chains. Loki made sure to lock down all four of the dragon's limbs.
"This is for Asgard," the Frost Giant said. "This is for Thor," he proclaimed with another step. "This is for mother," He continued. "This is for father," he said as he loomed over the dragon's head with an icy sword in his hand. "But this one..this is for me...I Loki Prince of Asgard, King of Jotunhiem, Odinson," he sighed with pride. "Hereby sentence you to death," he said as he hand shook. "NOW OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!" The dragon gave one last ragged roar as Loki slowly brought the sword down and decapitated the beast as lightning split the sky.