Learning to Trust

Chapter Eighteen

Loki P.O.V.

Sigyn spits out the apple of which I did not feel like warning her was fake and makes a disgusted face. I roll my eyes and mutter a few words, conjuring an actual apple to my outstretched hand. Her eyes light up as I offer it to her, she thanks me and takes a big bite out of it.

"I forgot how hungry I was till just now, I haven't eaten anything since breakfast in Asgard the day we left." She says, hungrily plowing at the apple. Ah yes, the day we left. My birthday. I assume that is not my real birthday, but the date of which I was stolen as a trophy for Odin. Nevertheless, it got me out of that dreadful place.

I remember the festival my mother had thrown in celebration for her adopted son's birthday, it consisted of nearly all of Asgard, thousands upon millions of people jostling around barbaricaly, chugging mead and starting brawls. Thor and Odin were off conveniently half way across the realm doing royal work, so me and my mother spent the day together, talking, reading, practicing magic.

"Now Loki, tell me about that girl in the dungeon?" She asked, breaking the silence in thr library. I looked up from my book of necromancing nature spells, my brow knit in confusion.

"What about her, mother, she is merely an annoying mortal that Odin has thrown in for crimes she most likely did not commit." I said, trying to keep down my anger.

"Ah, you and I both know she is not mortal. I raised you, you can feel the magic in her veins, can you not? She is powerful, but she does not know it." My mother smiled knowingly, " Tell me about her."

I sighed, closing my book.

"Alright. She does have something, I can give you that. She is very powerful, yet she is ignorant to her true potential. She sings too. I have no orderly idea why, but she sings and tells stories daily." I admited, realizing my mother has gotten me trapped into one of her long talks that never cease to end in a lesson teaching me about life.

"What does she sing?" She asked simply.

"Tragedies, mother. She sings so sorrowful and hurt. You would enjoy it, she sounds like one of those acting dramas you attend; so wounded and ill treated." I explained to her, recalling the pitiful melodies that Sigyn sang just a few days ago.

"Ah. So you know her story now, I assume?" She questioned further, looking amused.

"Yes... She idiotically bellows out her past for everyone to hear." I heard my voice becoming agitated towards my mother. "She just says- sings- all these horrible things and I want her out."

"Do you really?" She sounded surprised, "I think you want to help her. By the tone of your voice, anyone could see that you feel pity for the maiden."

I scoffed, my mother always reads too far into situations.

"Not in the slightest, in fact, I have not thought about her at all today. Her sad face has not appeared in my mind in this mighty day of celebration." I said in defence, crossing my arms. She just noded skeptically, I gave up trying to convince her and turned back to my book. I noticed her eyes still staring expectedly at me, so I took a deep breath and carefully looked back at her.

"Yes, mother? Did I say something out of line?"

"No, Loki, you simply said only half of what I expected you to say. But alas, I could never pry into all of your emotions, you always put up a wall between yourself and your feelings." She said, placing a hand on mine, which calmed me down quickly. I sat a moment and felt her hand on top of mine, my mother's touch was something I hadn't felt in far too long. She is my impulse control, the only one to truly understand how my mind works.