Dark Star || Loki [1]

[33] Everybody Stalks

Astrid didn't want to ask, but she did. And Frigga, solemnly but still with all of her regal stature, answered. "Her name was Hild. She was a small, skinny thing because she always gave her share of food to her elder brother, who had fallen ill. She didn't want her brother to die, so she begged my husband to spare him. But Odin swore an oath not to meddle with human lives-not when they were put on Earth to be without guide from a higher power."

"So her brother died?"

Frigga didn't need to confirm it. "Hild was distraught, and furious-understandably so. She cursed the gods, cursed Odin, and turned her back on us."

Astrid's heart was heavier now. "Was the king..."

"Guilty?" Frigga's eyes flashed with something dark. "Not particularly. His father had instilled within him a tendency to avoid conflict. Taking a risk to heal Hild's brother would only lead to trouble in his eyes. More humans seeking aid, more coming to him to mend their problems when they were meant to thrive on their own, and eventually more humans warring with one another when they were not placed first in line."

"Humans are a volatile bunch," said Astrid.

"What we hadn't known-what I should have suspected-was that Hild was raised by a witch. She harnessed the magic of her ancestors to bring her brother back to life, and for a great toll.

"Necromancy is a dangerous affiliation, especially when channeled through predecessors. The magic was powerful, and Hild could only harness it for so long until she became weaker than she already was.

"I suppose, in the end, she got what she had bargained for. Hild's brother awoke one night and killed her with his once-dead hands. The reason for her desperation was ultimately her downfall."

Astrid breathed in the scent of flowers: Asgardian ones she knew didn't grow anywhere on Earth, for they were larger than dinner plates and riddled with razor-sharp spikes, yet smelled somehow sweeter than vanilla. "I know what it's like to be unprepared for tragedy," she said quietly. "I lost someone a while ago, and I would've done anything to get him back. Just like Hild. But..."

Frigga pursed her lips. "He was not what you'd thought him to be when he was alive."

"Precisely." She didn't bother asking how she knew that. "I had a dream earlier. It wasn't a dream, actually, because I remember it. Well, I didn't remember it, but I remembered not remembering it. You know?" Frigga tilted her head. Astrid sighed. "I have these holes in my memory. I'd assumed they were the result of lots of blows to the head throughout my career, but I think they were something else. And today, I began to remember."

"What did you see, dear?" Frigga lay a hand over hers, clearly sensing the weight that was crushing Astrid's heart into metal dust.

"He did something to me." She closed her eyes, tried to remember. Scott smiling, eyes emotionless, that damned light blinding her. "I think he made me forget."

"Forget what?"

Astrid thought harder. Pictured the heavy metal doors; the hard, cold table on which she'd lay; The Man in the Corner and his words: I'm sorry... again. "I don't know," she said, her mouth dry, the weight pressing so hard she was gasping for breath. "But I think that was the point. Whatever he did, so many times, for so damn long... it was bad, and cruel, and nothing I'd ever thought he would do to me. And he wanted me to forget it, because if I didn't, I would leave him."

"And he wanted you to stay with him because...?"

Astrid shrugged, but it took every ounce of energy that her memory hadn't chewed up. "I was his best agent. I did everything for him, and most of the time without question."