Darkness Vanquished (A Loki Love Story) Book 3 in Darkness Series

The Right Thing

(Her point of view)

The music that flows from my fingertips sends for chills to form all over my skin. I am sitting in the warm sunlight of the day just within the comforting confinements of the bay window, playing my piano in our chambers. Every now and again, I feel my little angel kick, almost as if she is waltzing to the tune. It sends for my insides to squirm with delight.

I have been playing since he left to go deal with Daegan, which has only been about maybe an hour or a little less. I needed something to preoccupy my mind so that I would not go mad with worry. I do so hope that he was able to remain strong and not give in to Daegan's horrid appearance of torment. I know it will crush Loki to punish Daegan as he must, but this could not go without drastic reprimanding.

I do not hear the doors open over the melody of my music, but out of the corner of my eye, I see a figure suddenly emerge. As I turn to face the shadow, I see my husband standing just in the doorway. His eyes are red, his face pale. But that is not what causes for my heart to stop. As my eyes scan his staggering figure, they come down to his hands. I gasp, flying up to my feet as I see that they are covered in blood. Oh no....what has happened?!

"Loki! Oh my gods!" I run to him, putting a hand beneath my belly to support the extra weight. He stumbles toward me, seeming like he may collapse from his gruesome look of despondence. As I reach for him, he almost falls into my arms.

"Good gods, Loki! What happened?!" He wraps his arms around my waist before burying his face into my neck. I hold him close for only a moment, allowing his trembling figure to recompose itself. Then, I gently usher him towards a chair in front of the fireplace, beckoning for him to sit. He does so without hesitation. Once he is settled, I scurry off to the bathing chambers to retrieve a basin of warm water and some wash cloths.

Upon returning, I find that he is leaning forward with his elbows resting over his knees. His bloodied hands are folded together as his head hangs dreadfully. I do not speak as I go to kneel down in front of him. I place the cloths in the water, then grab one of them before wringing it out. Then, still remaining silent, I reach forth and take one of his hands in mine. I begin to wipe it in tender motions, aiming to free it of its grotesque and crimson shade. But as soon as I start, I feel him attempting to tug away.

"Christine, you do not have to do that. My Queen kneels to no one." His voice is raspy and broken, sending for my heart to crack. He is in so much pain....

I reach for his hand once more, pulling it a little more forcefully back in towards my chest. I allow my eyes to burn into his as I bring the cloth back up to his cool skin.

"Yes, your Queen does. She kneels to her loving King. But as Queen, she also has the right to do as she pleases. And at this very moment, there is nothing more that she desires than to clean her husband's hands for him." He shakes his head, but he does not pull his hand away.

"Perhaps he was right," he whispers in a strained wisp. I feel my eyes narrow as I study his pained facial expression. I know that I am going to regret asking this, but I know that it must be done. I will learn of it eventually anyhow.

"What ever do you mean?" I dip the cloth into the water, then retrieve another. I repeat my motions of continuing to wipe the sticky substance from his skin. He has yet to respond to my question. So, I look back up to his face, finding that his eyes are screwed shut. He looks completely scourged.

"Loki, please tell me what happened." He scoffs in a most distressed tone as he reopens his eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. Nothing except for a muted, half attempt at a strangled sob. I find my own self fighting back tears as I witness his impaling sorrow. Then, I suddenly have an idea.