The Darkness Cometh // Loki - Book 3 ✓

Chapter 2

"Good morning, my lady," Ilva says cheerily as she steps into what used to be Loki's chambers and are now less-than-fondly known as Anna's prison.

The maid smiles, balancing a large tray of food with one hand whilst using the other to shut the door behind her. Anna can smell the food from a distance - especially the Asgardian equivalent of bacon - and her mouth waters at the tantalizing aroma.

The food is one of the benefits of being trapped in the Asgardian palace. If it weren't for the fact that she spends every night wandering aimlessly in the void, she would've definitely gained twenty pounds by now. But no, fortunately - by some mysterious magic - the activity in her dreams managed to keep her relatively fit. So much so that she felt like she could out-eat Volstagg at a banquet.

Unfortunately, the food is one of the only benefits of being trapped in an Asgardian palace.

Sometimes she was glad to be stuck in Loki's old chambers, giving her a constant glimpse into the man she loved and lost, but other times - like today - it just makes her heart ache. It's like having a wound that cannot heal, no matter how much time or distance or effort poured into finding relief, it continues to seep blood. Surrounded by his belongings, Anna learns something new about him almost every single day. A favorite passage marked in one of his books. Some scrap of paper covered with a hastily scribbled note. A portrait of him as a child, with Frigga smiling down upon him.

That last one nearly broke her heart anew.

Pushing herself out of bed, she tries to smile at Ilva but stifles a yawn instead. Her limbs are stiff and sore from another night in the void, but - luckily - Eir gave her a mixture of oils and salts to use in the bath each morning that helped. One of Loki's forest green shirts hangs down to mid-thigh, his scent long since absent from the impossibly soft fabric, as she tugs her knotted brown hair into a ponytail. Plopping down at the small breakfast table, she slathers a piece of bread with a generous portion of butter.

"Any news?" Anna asks Ilva robotically, fully aware of the answer.

The maid shakes her head, "No, my lady."

Of course not. No news. Never any news. Three months of being trapped in Asgard, trapped in Loki's chambers, and still no progress. No one is willing to divert any resources in getting her out of this room, especially since no one truly knows how or why she got here, so she's resigned to while away eternity here.

Reading.

"Lady Sigyn wishes to visit you today, my lady," Ilva says, nearly causing Anna to choke on the bite of bread she just inhaled.

"Sigyn?" Anna coughs, clearing her throat with a swig of juice. "Did she say why?"

Ilva shook her head. Sigyn is notoriously private, keeping many of her motives to herself, as evidenced by the fact that it took Anna days of begging before she even admitted her name. How or why she came to Anna's room in the midst of that first nightmare, pulling her out before she tumbled over the edge, she isn't sure. She still didn't know why Sigyn posed as a maid to begin with. All that she knows is that she's incredibly grateful.

Sigyn visited sporadically, never more than once every few weeks, and the conversations tend to be short and awkward. Ever since Anna learned about her history with Loki - about their deceased sons, Narvi and Váli - she couldn't help but feel a teensy bit uncomfortable knowing that she owed her life to Loki's ex.

Still, Sigyn remained loyal. Aptly known as the Goddess of Fidelity, even after her separation from Loki she remained true to him. Not in the biblical sense of the word, at least, Anna hoped she'd been able to move on in that way, but - even if they were no longer together - Sigyn still acknowledged Loki as one of her life's true loves. It was a sign of how much she deserved her title that Sigyn still considered herself bound to him, in some way or another, and continued to support him - as a friend - through her support of Anna.