Sigyn's Discovery (Part 1)

Anticipation (SIGYN/LOKI)

(SIGYN)

They threw me into the cell quite unceremoniously, with no regard for if I was injured. The guard who greeted me at my door was the nastiest.

"You deserve to rot in here. When that traitor dies, I'm sure that's exactly what the real king will do with you."

I should've kept my mouth shut, but I was already in too deep. "You're just afraid to admit that your life was better yesterday."

He sneered. "I'd watch myself if I were you."

"If you were me, you would've lied to save your skin."

"Come on," the other said, pulling the first away. "She's not worth this."

We stared at one another, even when I scrambled to get on my feet before he lost sight of me at the staircase. He'd remember me, one way or another.

Yet as soon as they were gone, I shivered and lost my strong posture. The dungeon wasn't at all what I thought it would be—instead of cold bars, my stark white room made the expansive place even more lonely. The buzzing, transparent walls meant I'd have no privacy, which was somehow more humiliating than any time I was forced to share space in the servantry.

Still, I was right about what I'd told Odin—Asgard was better off because of Loki's efforts, and the near-empty dungeon was proof of that.

I paced the cell in laps around the perimeter for what felt like hours. When my legs ached from movement, I sat in the corner to give myself a rest. Who knew what Odin meant for my sentence, truly?

I pulled my legs into myself and saw the cape peeking out beneath my skirt. Seeing it made me weep. I broke down, clutching the fabric and wishing he were here to guide me or devise some master plan of escape, but it occurred to me that they might not even bring him to the dungeon before ultimately sealing his fate. Will they really kill him in front of me? I gagged on my hard sobs, now uncontrollably panicked.

Questions ran circles in my mind while I waited—how did they find him? How did they find me? Would Thor vouch for him at last?—though none hit my heart as strongly as the one I yelled to Odin as I left his presence:

Would I really die for him?

***

(LOKI)

With my hands still bound behind me, my shoulders ached. My knees were equally raw from being dragged. Without shoes, my feet suffered as well. I'd be torn apart long before making it to whatever Odin had planned on the mountain.

A nameless man yanked my hair back and hacked away with his short sword, emasculating me. He gripped my chin to look me in the eye afterward. "You're fortunate not to have a beard, or it would be ripped out one hair at a time."

I was already defeated. There was no need to continue beating me into the ground, though that's precisely what they did—the palace guards took turns slashing my back with a whip, trying to get me to cry out. All they received were my silent tears and a clenched jaw, though I did bite my lip to the point of bleeding again.

For all that my cruel family thought I was evil, they certainly had an arsenal of other men who were more than willing to break me in ways that even I thought were excessive. In the hands of my tormentors, I lost track of time. No sunlight touched the dripping room in which they doled their punishment—a place I'd never seen as a nobleman, alongside the palace store rooms.

Perhaps Sigyn knew it, though. She lived among these doors. I was comforted only by the knowledge that she'd been taken directly to the dungeons, and therefore couldn't have been subject to this same treatment.

I hoped.

My blood clothed me in a way, save for the light trousers I was caught in the night before, which were now torn just above my knees. As a soldier, I once prided myself on my ability to withstand more than the average man; I was now shredded inside and out. The slick floor made keeping my balance more difficult, and the nauseating smell of blood and sweat nearly made me vomit.

If I woke Odin as I'd mused about, bringing him out of sleep and explaining my need to take over in his absence, might he have paid more attention to the good I left behind?

Somewhere between the final lashes in the dark room and the dungeon, I lost consciousness. One of the soldiers slapped me awake before leaving me on the white, pristine floor of my new cell.

Sigyn yelled beyond the wall, "What have you done to him?" Her frantic cries forced my stomach into flipping knots, tearing me apart ever more. "Answer me!"

At least those strained hollers meant she was still alive and robust enough to scream. The soldiers activated my shield walls, which muffled her voice.

One of them shouted, "Quiet, you."

Her confidence was admirable, yet reckless. "I refuse to be silent in the face of this suffering. Haven't you any heart at all?"

The same man growled. "Are you incapable of following an order?"

Sigyn's tone changed. Meek. Quick. "What are you doing?"

"You want the same fate he has, do you?"

If you lay so much as a finger on her— I tried to roll over and stop it. Tried to move faster. Tried to call her name, but I was too faint.

"Don't come any—!" She shrieked in tandem with an unmistakable sharp slap.

I croaked, "B-bastard," though it didn't leave my cell. Odin knew well enough that reducing me to this pile of flesh would mean I had no power to strike over distance. No strength meant no magic.

"Never thought I'd hit a woman, but you're nothing more than a traitor to me." He spat next.

Repulsive. I shook, clenching my fists enough to cramp.

The two men's footsteps drifted away. Sigyn's sobs replaced the clanks of their armor, and once they were completely gone, she tried to beckon me.

"Loki?" She sniffled, sucking in a few unsteady breaths. "Can you hear me?"

I still couldn't face her. Didn't try. Disgraced by my own inability to escape, I curled my knees to my chest.

She hissed in concern. "Your back...it's ragged. Twitching. How could they do that to you?"

I asked myself the same question, though I wondered if she knew what was next. Did anyone tell you what Odin has planned?

"I'm sorry if my words brought you more trouble. I wish I could've done something, said something to protect you. Keep you from this. I...I'm sorry you're in pain. Alone." She broke down once again, unable to speak without blubbering. "Lo, I'm so, so sorry."

What happened to my beautiful, hopeful future? The one with a strong partner at my side, trading glorious touch with laughter and delight? The solitary soul of Asgard who ever claimed witness to my honor now faced persecution because of my actions. Had I simply visited her in disguise and not made her the king's servant, she would've escaped all suspicion. My fate was my fault, regardless of her strong will to protect me.

No, Ginny. Not as sorry as I am.