Loki's hands were shaking terribly when I approached him. I had hesitated only a second before closing the distance between us. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him forward. He did not lower his shaking hands, forming an awkward hug between the two of us. He did not feel warm and welcoming like the last few times we had embraced, instead, he was quite cold, making unwelcomed goose bumps appear on my skin. I pulled away from him hurriedly.
He was still distraught and in shock. For once the sly prince was speechless, as he should be. My own heart was pounding in my chest and I could only imagine what he was doing.
I reached for his shaking hands, he flinched as my fingertips just barely skimmed his palms. I had flinched as well but quickly covered it up by shivering in general. I knew I shouldn't be afraid of him, he was still Loki, Prince of Asgard. He was not like the blue monsters that slaughtered Asgard's people and rained chaos from their fingertips. He was still my Loki. I just had to make him see that, it wouldn't change us and if he so wanted to, he wouldn't have to tell anyone. It was the price I was willing to pay for peace.
"Loki, I need you to listen to me, alright?" I whispered, taking a quick glance around him to see that our comrades were still battling the giant Ymir and Laufey's troops. "You are not them."
"You saw it just as clear as I did," Loki hissed, his brows furrowing and his hands lowering. I nibbled my bottom lip. "I had the same skin as him- blue and cold," he deadpanned. Loki's eyes were sharp and unforgiving, mixed with anger and utmost confusion. He looked like a distraught deer in a way, scrambling for explanations in his head, none of them making an ounce of sense.
"Maybe it was an illusion-" I suggested.
"Did it look like an illusion?" Loki snapped. I could only close my eyes and purse my lips. Him and I both knew the answer, I was the only one unwilling to admit it quite yet.
"But it doesn't make any sense," I mumbled.
"No," Loki murmured, his voice softening. He drew himself away from me slowly, his shoulders hunching slightly and his hands fidgeting on the hems of his sleeves. His eyes were cloudy and I could tell that I was losing him, that his mind may soon be elsewhere. A shriek of terror ripped through the open corridor, bringing us both back to the subject at hand.
"We have other things to worry about," he stated, ending the conversation sharply. I knew that I shouldn't even try to bring it up again at the moment. My heart yearned to comfort him but I didn't know how to. How do you comfort someone who has just learned their whole life was a bittersweet lie? I could only nod my head and attempt one more time. I wasn't convinced.
"Loki-"
"I said there are other things to worry about," he snapped, his eyes narrowed and cold again. He straightened himself out almost immediately after, gripping his daggers deathly tight to his sides. Even his jaw was clenching and unclenching. I bit my lip, afraid to say the wrong things and anger him further. I nodded my head once more, addressing the burning subject.
"Laufey is dead," I whispered, turning to face the lifeless body behind me. Just as I had left Laufey- skewered with my twin daggers, his eyes open and glossy. "I killed him." I took a few seconds to look over his body, attempting to savor the moment of seeing the murderer of my family, dead as a doorknob. No one had even started to grieve him yet, he was just another dead man among his ranks, for now. I should have felt proud of my bloodthirsty quest for revenge full filled.
Instead, I felt sick to my stomach. The weight of grief and anger that was forced upon me when my family was burned still pressed heavily on my mind. In fact, it had barely even dulled. Laufey's death was just another name on my bruised conscience. Another useless death because of an age-old war between the gods and goddesses and the Jotunheim Giants.
The woosh of air and the crashing of a giant boulder only feet away from us brought us to even more important matters than the death of a leader. Loki had sped off, quickly jumping into the closest battle and wiping through his enemies like butter before I could even speak to him. I was only glad that I was not on the receiving end of his anger at this moment.
I snatched my bloodstained daggers from Laufey's chest and ran over to Heskell and Organar first, cutting down the few enemies that escaped through the lines of the elite warrior's defense line. Below me, Heskell looked paled with mauve bags beneath his eyes. His hands were shaking heavily as he placed them on Orgnar's lower half. Orgnar didn't look any better with a matching paled face and breathless pants.
"Heskell," I muttered, placing my hand on his shoulder tightly. Heskell snapped his tired eyes to me, lost hope gleaming in them.
"He is unwell," Heskell responded softly, looking down at Orgnar's gruff face. "The blade Laufey used was a certain type of poison, native to Jotunheim. It stops our regular rapid healing from healing us, therefore making our injuries heal and act much like Midgardian mortal's injuries," Heskell explained. Orgnar shuddered and coughed, his whole body heaving forward.
"Updates," Orgnar groaned. I cut in before Heskell could even observe and report.
"Laufrey is slain by my hand," I said. The world around us seemed to slow and become stuffy despite the frost creeping up each supporting pillar.
"Good girl," Orgnar whispered, a pleased expression on his face. He even went as far as to reach out and pat my foot once before wincing and drawing his arm back in. For a second, I forgot his previous actions and a sense of pride washed over me. For a second, a mentor was simply complimenting his young pupil. Most strive for such a recognition from such a legend. That second was over quickly as his rough coughing fits brought us all back to reality.
"Ymir is still alive, the warriors have killed most of Laufey's remaining troops. It is Ymir who stands in the way to our ride home," I explained, scanning the crowd of warriors finishing off his previous troops and attempting to cut through Ymir's tough skin. Orgnar and Heskell frowned deeply, creating worried creases in their foreheads. My comrades were slowly being backed against us, leaving them with little room to fight the closer we got.
"Get me up," Orgnar grunted. Heskell's brows furrowed and he scoffed.
"You can't even feel your legs, this is ludicrous," Heskell said.
"That was an order," Orgnar grunted. Heskell hesitated before cursing beneath his breath and helping Orgnar stand. I took one side of Orgnar, hefting him up from his spot and onto his feet. He groaned in pain and stood on weary legs. He leaned heavily on his mace as we backed away from him, letting him stand on his own. He had determination written in his furrowed brows and clenched jaw. "There was a legend that Ymir was slain because he had a weak point."
"Where?" I wasted no time getting answers. This had to be finished now or never, and I was hoping it wasn't the latter.
"It was said to be in the heart of his head, between the eyes," Orgnar said lowly, almost swaying on where he stood. Only Heskell reached out to steady him but was quickly shooed away. I nodded my head and ran forward into the ranks of my comrades, landing next to Asmund. A smirk appeared on his face despite having a large gash on his arm and the slower movements of exhaustion that he was performing.
"Aim for the spot in between his eyes, it may be a weak point!" I shouted to the ranks of my fellow comrades.
"How sure are you?" Sif shouted from the farthest end.
"Not at all, but it's the best shot that we've got!" I shouted back. My comrades grunted in response and set their sights to Ymir's massive head. Underneath his gnarled silvery-white hair were two little horns much like a bull's. If they acted the same way as a bull's horns did, it would surely hurt if someone were to pull on them.
Now that Laufey's troops were dead, we could set our whole attention on the giant before us.
"Archers!" Orgnar shouted. The shout sounded more out of pain than necessity. One of the foot soldiers dropped back, his eyes puffy and red as if he had been crying and grieving while still fighting. Sif stepped back as well, knowing full well that she was not a regular archer, but the next best in the line of us. The female foot soldier was nowhere to be seen and the tug on my heart told me she was buried beneath the several hundred bodies of our foes.
The foot soldier and Sif rummaged through the bodies of the Jotuns to find two bows and a handful of arrows to use. They returned to Orgnar's side, notching their arrows and waiting for the further command. Orgnar raised his arm weakly, signaling for them to aim.
"Get him looking forward," Orgnar said, his words trailing off his he stumbled against his mace. We nodded, beginning to shout and clank our weapons together as we bunched up to get Ymir to look our way. Ymir hissed something inaudible before swatting his hand down at us. The front-most people bashed their gauntlets together, summoning their last shield forward. Ymir only caught the last warrior, sending Volstagg sailing to the other side and onto his rear. He groaned and quickly regained his stance, charging forward again.
"Fire," Orgnar commanded grimly. His words were so quiet yet so filled with rage and hatred. I never wanted to hear those words from a man like Orgnar again, I could only thank the lucky stars that I was not on the receiving end of his words. Sif and the foot soldier fired, sending volley after volley into Ymir's head, nearly three hitting their mark, the others sticking into Ymir's hard skin like little pine needles. The Great Giant stumbled backward, landing on his knees with his hand outstretched.
As if we all had the same thought, at the same time, we charged forward, all of us hacking and slashing like savages at Ymir's exposed fingers. He wailed and attempted to draw his hand away from the constant pain. Thor plopped his hammer on Ymir's hand, keeping held tight to the ground. Ymir was fairly puzzled by that as he should have been- a tiny hammer should have no effect on him, but it most certainly did. Ymir roared in anger once again, cursing in a dead language as he tugged at his hand in an attempt to pull it away once again.
Sif had rushed forward, leaving the crude icy bow behind and charging forward with a greatsword in her hands. She lodged the blade into his head, right between his eyes, splitting two arrows in half. A silent scream fell from Ymir's mouth as he gasped and began to stumble and fall further to the ground. Kneeling, he was nearly as big as a regular frost giant would be. Ymir began compulsing, his whole body shuddering and shaking and he lowered himself even further to the ground until his chest was pressed against the cool, cracked ice.
Silence.
Relieved, comfortable silence.
The Great First Frost Giant, Ymir, was slain before us by none other than Lady Sif. I was sure that no other soldier would ever question her abilities again. It had ended so fast but so quietly, and in a way, I felt pity for Ymir. There wasn't even a drop of blood leaking from his wounds. He was never too warlike, and it was very possible that Laufey had been using him for his own schemes and such. And now Ymir lay lifeless and chilled on the floor like an animal. Pity.
The air around us stilled and the nightly sounds returned as if nothing had happened. Their native crickets chirped in the shadows and the morning birds crowed as the sun began to rise over the horizon. Peace had returned at last, as well as the rambunctious and cocky attitudes of my comrades. Volstagg and Sif were speaking quietly, a tired yet thankful expression on their dirty faces. Heskell, the footsoldier and even Loki had gathered around Orgnar who was nearly as pale as the snow now. He needed to be back on Asgard, and soon. My eyes scanned the crowd for one last man, an arrogant one at that.
Asmund approached me, a relieved but cocky smirk displayed on his face. He even had mustered up enough arrogance to hold out his arms and wink at me. Behind him, Heskell breathed heavily but his expression was soft and very relieved. I couldn't blame either of them for feeling that way- we had just beaten the first giant created. Ymir was reborn only to be chopped to pieces as the old tales had once exclaimed.
"We won," Asmund whispered as he wrapped his broad arms around me. Despite the freezing wasteland that we stood in and the piles of dead bodies around us, I felt warm and relieved. This time, it felt as if a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders- we were going back to Asgard, finally. The last six months had been hard and grueling and I wasn't even entirely sure that it had been six months to Asgard. Time was different in each realm. Midgard's sun rose and set within twenty-four hours. Asgard's sun rose and set nearly the same but with thirty-two hours rather than a short twenty-four. Jountheim's was unknown to me, it could have ten hour days or three weekdays- it was all a mystery to me how they kept track of their time and compared it to other realms.
"Indeed, we did," I whispered back, closing my eyes and relaxing into his embrace. When we finally pulled away, another question arose in my mind- a casual one as if we were simply friends and hadn't just ended an oncoming war. "What is the first thing you're going to do when you return home?"
"I am going to tell the girl that I am sweet on that she is the most wonderful thing that has ever crossed my path. No matter how many ladies I have fawned over, none were like the effect she had on me," Asmund said dreamily, his eyes shimmering with excitement. "I will tell her that she is such a fine young lady with beautiful locks of hair and her eyes which I could get lost in for days. Oh, and she's strong. Stronger and braver than any man or women alike that I have ever come to know," Asmund said confidently. "It doesn't matter that she is seeing another man, my life has flashed in front of my eyes one too many times in this mission. I will tell her now or never."
"She sounds lovely. Lucky girl," I smiled, pleased to see Asmund bouncy and happy once again. "I'll have to meet her soon, I would like to see the look on her face when you speak to her. But maybe she isn't seeing another man. Most men in Asgard are pigs." I snorted. Asmund winked and elbowed me.
"She knows, she's already heard it- it's just nice to repeat it. I am sorry to burst your smug bubble, but you've already met her. You know her more than any of us do," Asmund said, his words softening. "And I can agree, Asgardian men tend to be a bit messy, but she has found a decent enough man. He's an odd one for her to fancy, but they need each other." Asmund's smile was hollow and sad as was his voice. He was a little distant, staring ahead with his whiskey-colored eyes set forward. I patted his shoulder gently. She was still a lucky woman nonetheless and half of me wondered if his heart sung for Lady Sif. She was a good woman, and just as good comrade.
"Let's grab what we need and go home- so you can tell her again," I said. He nodded his head and drew himself out of his daze. Volstagg had severed Laufey's head and was holding his skull with one meaty hand. He stepped over next to me, awaiting the rest of our comrades to gather and call on Heimdall. Out from the rubble, the last remaining foot soldier held his fallen comrade close to him. Her face had been slashed terribly and it was barely recognizable against the rest of the piled bodies. Loki and Thor had joined us next, standing in a respectful semi-circle. Asmund had joined Heskell in trying to hobble Orgnar along to which Orgnar protested by attempting to swat them away. It was an amusing sight, really, and it felt like the younger years of our training: innocent.
Suddenly the ground began to shake beneath us and the body of Ymir shuddered and began expanding as if bloated. The ones closest to his body turned to witness the sword Sif had lodged into his head wobbling and beginning to slide out ever so slowly. Next came the several drip drops of what I assumed was his blood which had been nonexistent before. His blood was a clear color with tinges of blue, but thick just like our Asgardian blood. And suddenly, everything was not alright.
"Flee! Call upon Heimdall!" Orgnar bellowed, shoving Asmund and Heskell away from him. They stumble forward in surprise, Heskell catching himself on the ground below him. Panic arose in my chest as the world went to chaos around us. Thor was shouting and cursing as he attempted to push forward, but his words were drowned out by the cracking and shrieking of the rocks and structures around us. Heskell and Amsund regained their footing and began running towards the gathering circle. The Last Foot Soldier shuffled along, hauling his friend's body with him.
But they were not fast enough. They never tend to be. A searing light of blue and the sight of the comrades who had not reached the circle in time were flung forward like a rock- dead weight. There were screams and shouts and I wasn't sure whether or not they were even coming from me. Another blinding light followed not a second after the previous one. It was a familiar light- rainbow with specks of silver and gold.
I should have been relieved and happy to go home. But I was not. I was not while I held my friend's bodies in my hands, pleading for them to stay awake as they bled out into already stained hands.
~*~*~
Quick Author's Note.
One last chapter. I am really sorry. I truly am. One- for updating at 9:00 pm and for the ending of this chapter.