Summer Clouds

Cloth of Ragnarok

A/N: Whilst in New York, I came up with the final ending. So, here it is, despite me saying I would edit it in November. I don't think I can update BTSOTR for a while, though, as I'm painting my room... Oh, and this is in present tense, because I've forgotten how to write in past tense. Oops...

Savannah awakes on a hospital bed. 

Well, sort of.

It feels, she thinks, as if Thor had taken his precious Mjolnir, and hit her repeatedly over the head with it. Savannah groans, and, to her immediate right, she hears a gasp. After having forced herself up on weak arms, her eyes meet Loki's, and a painful smile spreads across her heavily bruised face.

'Loki,' she says, skipping straight to the point, 'Is Sigyn dead?'

Her throat is sore, and her voice comes out hoarse and strained, as if she has been gargling acid.

'No. Her trial is today,' Loki says, and the hard tone of his words makes her wince.

Or perhaps it is the pain of breathing that does that.

'Don't let them kill her,' she hears herself say, which, to be honest, doesn't sound very much like her.

'What?' Loki questions, incredulous.

Although he cannot be more so than she is.

'Give her another chance.'

'She tried to kill you, Savannah,' Loki said, his tone nothing short of wondrous.

'I know, Loki. I was there, remember?' she points out, glad that she is still able to use sarcasm.

'And how could I forget?' Loki gently reminds her, and it sounds as if he's  blaming himself for what happened.

She reaches out to touch him, painstakingly lifting a strand of his dark hair from his eyes. He takes her hand, and frowns at what he sees. Savannah cannot see anything wrong, because despite the numerous bandages swathing her entire body, her hands are mostly unharmed. She pulls her hand back, resting it on her lap.

'But, seriously, don't put her to death,' she repeats, adamant.

'Why?' he asks, which is more or less the question she is asking herself.

'I have my reasons,' she says, if only to irritate him, 'I'm hungry.'

'I'll give you an apple if you tell me why.'

Damn him, she thinks, and gives in. She would have told him anyway, she consoles herself, and her stomach rumbles its agreement.

'I don't want another death on my hands, okay?' she sighs, and, behind her eyelids, imprinted on her retinas, she sees her kidnappers die.

It's horrible. Bright light fills them from the inside out, their skin splits open, and they bleed.

'But it won't be on your hands, and it's perfectly justified,' Loki says, and while it is true, and while she can see his point more clearly than her own, the vivid images won't let her acquiesce to him.

'And so was killing those men. But it doesn't mean I won't still have nightmares about it,' she says, and she knows that the nightmares will haunt her for as long as she lives.

And yet, the thought of Loki being there to comfort her is all she needs.

'Savannah, be reasonable, it's-'