Chapter Text
PROLOGUE
Everywhere was darkness. It did not merely fill the space, it was the space, deep and terrible and enveloping all things. But it was not the darkness that she feared. Even as she wandered through the blackness, Sigyn could feel it lurking just ahead of her, prowling, panting, and yearning. And when she sensed she had reached it, the dark pressed in again and it was lost from her sight.
She was standing on the edge of a precipice, her cloak snapping in the icy wind that struck her like daggers. The hills were afire, the heat beat at her face, and she drowned in the screams.
Asgard sprang up before, no, below her. She was above it, suspended, watching, with the cold feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her something evil, something wicked, was coming. The shadows stretched long, clawing at the golden pillars, and the universe swirled restlessly around her. It carried her away on a bed of stars.
There was a tree, huge and all-knowing. Its leaves were yellowed, its roots parched. She felt the bark beneath her palm, papery, leafing away. The tree was dying, and the shadows loomed.
Sigyn was once again atop the mountain, but this time she was not alone. There were thousands there, millions, scattered, screaming for blood. Steel scraped against steel. Iron rang. Thunder rumbled. There was a face, a red, sneering face standing above them all. He raised a gloved hand, the mountains trembled, and the world drowned in blood.
She woke up with sweat beaded across her forehead, the sheets crumpled at her feet, and a feeling of dread in her chest.
CHAPTER 1
Love and Lies
If Loki had found himself face to face with the Devil, he would have laughed right in his face.
When it had seemed Fate had drunk its fill, it had returned asking for more, always demanding more. No, Fate was far from finished with him, the god thought ruefully as he stood outside the Iron Hall, Thor clutching his arm in a death-grip. He found himself laughing despite it all, a sort of mad cackle that frightened even himself. The dejá vu of it all made him smile bitterly. Once again he would be mocked. Once again he would be hated. Once again he would be punished.
He wanted to run, to disappear, but a part of him kept him frozen, the part that whispered, “You deserve it.”
“Loki, this is your last chance t—to make amends,” Thor was pleading, his eyes desperate and searching. “They will listen, you are the Prince of Asgard—”
“A prince?” Loki spat and Thor recoiled slightly at his sharp words. How could he not see? Loki thought. How could he not see the lies laid out before him? It was so useless.
“You think that’s what I want?” he continued, ignoring his once-brother’s protests. “There is nothing left in Asgard for me. There never was. You will see.”
The guards filed in on either side mutely, but the loathing was written across their weathered faces. They wrestled Loki’s arms behind his back and into the cursed shackles. Already Loki could feel his energy drain from him, the familiar burning sensation filling his chest as his magic was trapped, burning, within him. But he would not give them the satisfaction of seeing his pain, not to them.
It was when the captain pulled out the muzzle that Thor began to protest.
“Is that truly necessary, my friends?” Thor asked uncomfortably as they clamped the infernal things over Loki’s mouth. His eyes flashed up the Thor’s as if to say “See?” Thor looked on miserably as they marched Loki through the great metal doors and into the chaos of the throne room.
* * *
Sigyn was late.
They hadn’t told her. Frigga had said it was for her own good; things were different now. As she hurriedly made her way down the tower steps, she silently decided she would enchant Frigga’s sewing needles so they sang out bad poetry as vengeance, once her Loki was back. Surely they would clear him. Surely they would.
There was much that needed said.
* * *
They had packed the Hall with lords and soldiers and common folk alike. Oh, how long they have waited for this, Loki mused dryly. Their gaze was cold and he saw no forgiveness there. Again, he thought of what a fool Thor had been to think they would listen. There was no mercy in their eyes. He was already condemned, and they would kill him on the spot if Odin gave the word.
It made him sick at first, but he was all too familiar with the feeling and it faded almost immediately. They would never listen. They would never know the true story, what had happened after he fell, where he had been that long, long year. What Loki wondered was if he would.
From the moment he laid eyes on his “father,” Loki could tell instantly: Odin knew. The All-Father, his face grim and set, studied Loki like one would a disobedient child, which, Loki supposed, he was to him. But Odin could see through the hate in his eyes to something deeper. 'I know what’s coming,' Loki thought out at him. 'I’ve seen it. I am it.' There were still tell-tale traces of blue in his eyes, the shadows dark below them. Oh yes, how could he not see the signs? But Loki saw in the All-Father’s eyes that once again he would do nothing. Once again he would lie. And that hurt all the more.
* * *
Sigyn could hear the steward’s nasal voice echoing down the dim corridor as he read off the list of charges. She still did not know which to believe. There were stories and rumors and rumors of rumors, and each frightened her more than the next. But Sigyn knew she had made her decision long ago.
She pushed her way into the tense crowd. It was growing restless. The steward’s voice strained to be heard over the growing roar. Sigyn could not see him; there were too many bodies pressed about her. Odin was speaking now, his voice commanding and final. She could see him sitting atop his golden throne, but his words were lost in the sea of voices. His statement triggered a frenzy in the crowd. Whispers rose to violent protests, and Sigyn realized dully that Loki’s sentence had been given. A panic came over her. They were taking him away.
She shoved lords and ladies alike aside as she made her way through the throng of people. Their faces and cries blurred around her and she no longer cared what they saw, what they thought. Her dress caught and she felt it tear at her ankles. Before she could steady herself, an elbow caught her in the chest, knocking the wind out of her and sending Sigyn toppling into the guards and their prisoner’s path.
* * *
At first, all Loki could see was a mass of blonde curls. Then, his eyes met hers. Hers were violet, an unusual and familiar violet. His lips moved in a wordless cry and he strained against the guards’ grip, against the shackles. The captain grabbed her by the wrist and thrust her back into the crowd, his escort already dragging Loki out through the iron studded doors. But he had seen her.
And that was enough.