* epic cinematic music above *
Kyra reached him and crouched down. Loki was sitting on the ground, looking dazed. His eyes were unfocused, and even though she was right in front of him it was like he couldn't see.
"Loki? Loki! What's wrong with you? What's going on?" He didn't respond, and the panic that swept all over her was overwhelming. She didn't know what was happening and she didn't know what to do; was this a mortal illness, like - like fainting from low blood sugar? Or was this something bigger that she couldn't comprehend?
Loki sagged heavily against her and no amount of shouting could wake him up. His eyes were glazed, like he was watching something far away.
Kyra held one arm protectively around him as people stopped to whisper and stare. She took out her phone and dialed. Her voice was anxious.
"Richard? It's me, Kyra. Listen, there's something up with Lo - Lance, and I need to get him to the hospital. No, I don't know what's going on, but he looks like he's about to faint any second......I'll just take a taxi or something. No, don't bother to come find us, we're at the other end of the market and I can't wait.....he looks really bad...."
* * * * * * * * * *
Pain. Screams of pain. But they weren't his.
He was cradled by warm arms that trembled lightly. The timber walls of the house were not thick enough to muffle the roars of the war going on outside.
Frightened, he began to cry. A soft voice hushed him and he was rocked gently.
"Sssshhh it's okay child, hush....mother's right here." The voice that spoke was light and soothing; it tried to calm him even though it shook with fear.
He turned his head a little and faced the window of the house. The shutters were closed, but through tiny cracks and gaps he could see flames and fire blazing, harsh and all-consuming, leaping tongues of light in his vision......
* * * * * * * * * *
Kyra managed to get Loki on his feet. It was as if his mind had wandered to another world entirely, he just wasn't present. Kyra had to pull him a few times before he started shuffling his feet in the direction she wanted.
They moved away from the throng of people. The market was held in the middle of a grassy field, and Kyra had to cross a few feet of deserted space before reaching the streets, where she could hail a cab.
Loki had broken out in cold sweat. His breaths were coming out in short gasps. Fear and pain flashed intermittently on his face.
Kyra bit her lip as Loki let out a small sound of distress. She quickened her footsteps. Loki's weight however, kept him back and he slipped away from her grasp. His legs no longer knew how to stand without support, and he ended up kneeling on the grass.
"Damn it!" she cursed, her voice sick with worry.
* * * * * * * * * *
The door to the house burst open and the arms holding him tensed. Then - a warrior stepped in. It was a woman, and she was tall, very tall. She had on a greyish blue armour and nothing beneath it, even though the current temperature was -78 degrees Celsius. Her eyes were a brilliant crimson red, and narrow ridges outlined her jaw and the smooth blue skin of her scalp.
The arms holding him relaxed and relief colored the gentle voice.
"It's you, Kolga. How is it?"
The warrior Kolga bowed her head low.
"The Asgardian force draws ever nearer. King Laufey has bid for me to take you and flee."
"......And the baby?" Her voice went a little shrill at that.
Kolga would not meet the Queen's eyes. "......He is small for a giant's offspring. The people will not see him worthy for the throne. His cries too, will become a liability in our escape."
"No. No." The voice turned desperate, pleading, and the grip on him tightened.
Kolga stepped forward, her arms already outstretched. "I will place him in the Temple. The heavens shall decide his fate."
"No! No! My baby! My son! Laufey's son!" Her cries rang in his ears.
* * * * * * * * * *
Kyra stood, staring at Loki's fallen form. At that moment, she had never felt so helpless before in her life.
Something was wrong with him, but she didn't know what and she didn't know how to help. Right now all her panicked mind could think of was the hospital; that was the only place she knew that could give answers.
She drew herself up straight and took a deep breath. I can do this.
She reached down and her fingers pulled at his arm.
* * * * * * * * * *
Kolga's fingers pulled at him, her voice calming and coaxing, persuading the woman to let go. But the arms of his biological mother held him tight and her voice cried out in pain and desperation, fixing Kolga with plea after plea after plea......and he was confused, disoriented, he did not know what was going on, except that someone was trying to separate him from his mother, from the arms that were loving and warm, from his safe haven, and he couldn't have that. His voice rose to loud wails and he fought as hard as he could with his chubby fists and legs......
* * * * * * * * * *
Kyra tugged at his arms, trying to get him up and moving. She didn't see the way Loki flinched at the touch, but she did hear the snarl that escaped from his lips and the angry roar.
Loki flung his arm out, his knuckles crashing into Kyra's jaw. She was thrown back and fell on all fours, her face on the grass. Her glasses flew off somewhere.
Stunned, it took a second before she sat up. The shock hurt more than the blow. She pressed her palm against the injured spot and slowly stood up. For a moment her knees seemed to give way and the world spun, but then her head cleared.
She made to look for her glasses, and saw Loki stand up. Through blurred pixelated vision, she could just make out that he was looking her way.
"......Loki?" she whispered, fear tinging her voice.
* * * * * * * * * *
He could see her, the warrior Kolga. Standing in front of him. Suddenly it was as if he had become an outsider. He had left the baby's body and was now standing to one side on the stone floor. He could see the back of the crying woman and the child she held in her arms.
He had been too young to do anything that day. He had been small, weak.
He was not any longer.
* * * * * * * * * *
Loki started to stride toward her, his movements determined and with purpose. Kyra took three steps back, and felt something crunch beneath her shoes. She looked down, lifting a foot.
Her glasses laid broken and cracked among the blades of the grass.
She looked back up - and Loki was right in front of her, mere inches away.
Her eyes met his. He was looking at her but not really seeing. Even without her glasses she could see the pain, the suffering, the fury; but more than that she could see how he was just scared and lost.
"Oh Loki......" Her voice was low, trembling; shaking with fear that was not for her but for him.
She reached out a hand, to soothe, to calm, to reassure.
And it was with ease that Loki's fingers encircled around her throat and tightened viciously, before slowly lifting her up.
She choked, her throat constricting, the path of oxygen cut off. She grasped Loki's arms, slapping and hitting his wrist.
"Loki!" she gasped. "Please....it's me......"
But his face stayed expressionless, and his grip strengthened.
A dull ache in her lungs grew and pulsed erratically, she wheezed and coughed and knew she was about to black out. Already darkness was beginning to eat the corners of her vision.
"Loki....stop....Loki!"
* * * * * * * * * *
He had her in a killing grip. She was trashing and kicking but he was not about to let go.
He would kill her, this thief. How dare she tear him away from his mother? He would protect what was his.
But the voice.
It was small, coming from far away. Begging for him to stop, pleading. It was a voice he knew, and he had the vague feeling that he was not supposed to hurt the owner of that voice.
His master. The woman. The mortal.
But something was not right. The voice came from in front of him. From the warrior Kolga. How could that be? Kolga was Kolga, the mortal was the mortal.
He looked again at the woman whose neck she was gripping.
......This was Kolga, wasn't it?
The moment the sliver of doubt entered his head the face of Kolga changed, and the world around him did too.
He was standing on grass, strangling not Kolga but the mortal, and he was not in a house but was on a grassy plain instead. This was not Jotunheim but Midgard.
The change lasted for only the flicker of a second, but it was enough to render him discombobulated. The scene had been so real and vivid, and his mind could not assimilate these two realities.
He dropped his hold on Kolga and sank to the ground, head pounding as he let out an anguished yell.
* * * * * * * * * *
Black spots danced before Kyra's eyes and she felt the last fingers of consciousness retreating. Dimly she was aware of Loki reeling backwards and releasing her. Oxygen rushed through her blood as she landed heavily on the grass. But she was too close to unconsciousness now and continued slipping into darkness.
"Loki," she breathed, reaching a hand out.
Her world blacked.