His Dove (Loki Laufeyson)

Part 37 (Run)

I didn't get out of the bathroom until the sun had lifted into the sky again. The bedroom looked spotless, not a single thing out of place and not a single stain on the floor. The bed had been remade with a brand new set of bedding.

"Breakfast." I heard from the doorway, before Frey set a tray of food down on the closest end of the couch. "You should eat."

He stayed along the wall of the room, farthest from me, before sitting on the couch across from the one he had set the tray on.

I felt my eyes following him and waited for him to get sat down fully with his own plate before I walked to the couch, not breaking my eyes away even after I sat down. I picked around the plate of what looked like some sort of meat and eggs, glancing up every few seconds to get a look at Frey. Had I not been completely starving, having not eaten since I was taken, I likely wouldn't have even glanced at the food.

Every bite was forced, but I had managed. Frey sat there eating his own food, being sure to keep all his movements slow.

"Am I scaring you, being in here? I can go, I just... Didn't think you aught be alone."

What the hell was this? This man, now attempting to comfort me? This foolish fucking idiot thinking he could be of any comfort, when he literally planned to kill me? When his goons had been the ones to assault me?

He was terrifying me by being in the room. But I would be damned if I admitted that. I'd also be damned if I didn't at least attempt to stall what I knew was coming that same day, the 'sacrifice'.

"What happened to my mother? Did Fafnir..."

Frey's eyebrows furrowed, his jaw clenching. "Our father never would have killed Eir. Are you crazy? What are those Asgardians teaching you?"

I felt my eyes grow wide at his slight outburst, making him put his hands up in calm surrender.

"Fafnir stole Eir from Asgard, during a war he started over a hunting accident." I said quietly.

Frey scoffed, shaking his head. "Fafnir didn't steal Eir. They were in love." I tilted my head, making him continue. "It's true, he started the war over Otr's death. But they didn't tell you why uncle was there, I assume?"

"They don't know why." I said quietly in response.

"Eir was with child." Frey said simply. "Our brother, Dyre. Otr had been passing letters between realms for Fafnir and Eir, they were planning to run away together."

"Why would they need to run?"

"Eir was considered a high lady of Asgard, our father wasn't... Wasn't an option for her suitor. Not to mention already having been married."

"Your mother?" I questioned, feeling it was an obvious answer.

Frey nodded.

"My mother, may her soul be joyous in Valhalla. She died in childbirth, delivering my sister... The baby also passed."

"I'm sorry." I said quietly.

Frey ignored it.

"Anyway, Fafnir took her because he knew it was his last chance. She came willingly, and they lived here for centuries after, under the disguise Eir placed on the isle. They had 5 children, including you. It became a village for people looking to escape the allfather's watchful eye, Heimdall, but only for those they trusted. It was their own little kingdom."

We stared at one another for quite some time, before Frey spoke again. "And that's why Eir died. She never saw the bigger picture, and in turn neither did our father. They wanted the house, the kids, the little village life. Fafnir could've conquered realms. Hel, Vanaheim was eating out his palm, he could've taken Freyr's thrown with simple words. He could've been the true king, the Allfather, if it weren't for her."

I didn't know what there was to say. It was clear he resented my mother, the life she and Fafnir lived, but I could feel his sadness thick in the air. It was indistinguishable, he grieved.

"You miss them." I said quietly. "You think... Having conquered the realms would've saved them?"

Frey didn't respond to that, but he didn't truly need to. I already knew that's what he thought. I already knew he resented Fafnir for even marrying my mother, but he grieved the family nonetheless.

"You blame him for choosing love."

"Love is a facade, a lie." He replied flatly.

"You mean to tell me he never made you feel loved?"

"No, he never did." Frey's expression turned pained as he stared into my eyes.

It was me.

"When you were small, you'd get so happy when I came. You'd run, tug at my pant legs and call me by that stupid name, but now you don't even remember me. Because you've grown. Love is imagination, a child's desire to be near those who make you feel safe, before you realize you will never be safe."

That was when it hit me. The memories of his face, though it was slightly different at the time. It was happier, less burdened by frown lines and scars.

I was playing on the beach with Sigurd when the boat heaved itself to the dock. Instantly I abandoned my post at the sand fort, running down the wooden path above the water until I was at the front end of the boat.

"Sjef!" I had called. It meant 'Boss', a name I had coined for him after he spent an entire warm season teaching me the way of the forest.

"Hei, lille venn." He responded adoringly, picking me into his arms before he strode down the dock. He had spoke with me for hours before even bothering to step foot in the house, before even bothering to announce his arrival. He sat on the sand and built structures into it with me, finding shells on the rocky shore I wasn't allowed to tread and using his shoe as a bucket to bring water.

"Sjef..." I said softly. "My boss." I smiled a bit at the memory, "You wouldn't even announce yourself until after we played... for however long I wanted to. It was hours, most times."

Frey looked shocked, his mouth agape and his breathing slightly heavier.

"I need to go." He said quickly, standing and striding towards the door. "Be ready to go in an hour, little love."

I wanted to stop him, continue stalling, continue trying to appeal to that glimpse of softness he had just showed... But I couldn't.

I knew by the way his energy felt when he left the room he wasn't going to stop his conquest for the realms. I was not only the means to an end in the form of his transformation, I was the end of his humanity as a whole.

I wondered what had to have happened to him. In my memory he was perfect. He was sweet and kind; I didn't have a single memory of him so much as raising his voice.

I couldn't allow myself to continue traveling down memory lane, though. I had to figure out a way out of this. In my days of trying to learn how to take the shield down I had only gotten a vague idea of the magic required, and it seemed far above my abilities.

Nonetheless, it was the only shot I really had. Without the shield being down I'd have no chance for Loki or Thor to get inside, and I'd also have no chance to call for Heimdall, if that were even an option. He'd have no way of knowing if he couldn't even see the isle.

If there were any silver linings to the events that took place yesterday, it's that Frey no longer had the guards on me. It gave me ample time to slip the bedroom window open enough for me to slide out. I held onto the vines and windowsills as I slowly climbed down from the third story, plopping into the dirt with a 'thud' and instantly running towards the beach.

The sand flipped upwards with every step, flying in the air and onto my back as I ran. Once I got to the familiar shimmer of the shield, I placed my hands up, trying to feel it. It was an instant feeling, really, but there was a secondary feeling that made my heart skip a beat. A soft, faint feeling on the other side. The eye of a storm.