~One month after the funeral (and Loki’s desert proposition)~

As much as Thor wished it would, business in Asgard couldn’t stop.  What did the mortals say?  They had come up with some rather inspired idioms.  Ah, yes—The world keeps on turning.  

Asgard didn’t turn per se, but the dawndial clock still moved daily, so the saying fit.  The first month after he’d broken the bridge, the month before they’d held Loki’s funeral, he’d seen to his kingly duties at court like a good boy, and it had been utterly disastrous.  None of the directors, delegates, military officials, palace workers, soldiers, nobles, lords, ladies, or anyone else wanted to see the disgraced and pathetic excuse for a king that he was.  Nothing productive occurred while he sat on the throne, and since he was in their eyes incompetent, after the funeral he’d asked (commanded, more like) Frigga to see to the court daily.  She may have been showing signs of exhaustion (weren’t they all?), but she was the only other royal who could do the job that he just couldn’t do for the time being.  

How was he supposed to sign all the new defense bills, read through all the proposals for new militarized law enforcement, or strategize with foreign diplomats concerning peace amongst the realms without the aid of the bifrost when he could hardly choose the meal plans for the palace chef for Hel’s sake?  It was just too much, and he’d needed to put himself to a different sort of work.  Something that wouldn’t require thinking at all since all the thinking he’d been doing was somehow always wrong.  He’d needed something that would physically exhaust him.  Something that would force his body to finally sleep at night rather than toss and turn with thoughts of his failures.  

Little deliberation later, he’d decided to oversee the reconstruction of the bridge.  Rebuilding it was going to take ages, which was a very good thing indeed.  Starting the day after the funeral, a month ago now, Thor had worked tirelessly alongside the laborers repairing the bifrost.  Inch by inch.  Foot by foot.  Refusing to leave the work to spend any time in court, every miniscule piece of newly created prismatic quartz had his fingerprints on it.  He needed the hard physical labor.  It was the only way he could get out of bed each morning.  Pain in his muscles and bones drowned out the deeper pain screaming in his heart.  

Not only the officials at court, but his citizens, too, held no respect for him, refusing to forgive him for breaking the bridge, and he could hardly blame them.  For one thing, the bifrost hadn’t been the only casualty, not even close.  Destroying their mortal enemies at the cost of killing Gylfi’s entire Hawk regiment was hardly worth celebrating.  Much worse than the Hawks’ deaths, he’d killed their beloved king.  That is….now Loki was their beloved. Post-mortum love and accolades crashed over his ghost in waves.   

Scowling, his shoulders slumping as he bent over the jagged edge of the bridge, Thor smeared a coat of diamond liquid metal across the quartz siding, and glaring up at the storm clouds, the rain hitting his open eyes, a streak of lightning flashed across the black sky, the deafening crack of thunder booming over the city.  Rain had fallen the afternoon he’d been informed of Loki’s death, and it hadn’t ceased its drenching of the realm since that day.  

Flowing out of him of their own volition, his anger and pain fueling the raging torrent of wind and rain, Thor simply couldn’t control the storms.  If there was a silver lining in one of those black storm clouds, it was that Asgard was on high ground and sloped down on all sides into the sea.  Otherwise the realm would have been long since flooded.  As though killing the Hawks and Loki hadn’t been enough, drowning the lower lying citizens would have no doubt started a revolution.    

Pulling the hood of his black cloak over his soaked hair, gingerly pushing the next inch of quartz into the liquid metal, his thoughts roamed to his mother.  Perhaps his reasons for having Frigga take over the more trying aspects of the throne had been selfish, more so than just his preferring to work with his hands for the time being.  Well, there was no perhaps about it.  He knew his reasons for pushing Frigga into the position were selfish, but they were also justified.  He refused to stand by and watch idly as she drowned in sorrow in Loki’s chambers all damn day long.  In his estimate, his mother had spent three quarters of her time sobbing in his brother’s old rooms.  He could care less that the grief was still fresh.  Infinitely more disturbing was the fact that if she wasn’t crying while holding onto one of his brother’s old books or jackets or any other number of his things, she was spending her time with Sigyn.  

He scoffed, the Vanir’s small heart-shaped face flashing before his eyes as he smeared another coat of liquid metal over the edge.  He didn’t hate his late brother’s lover, but he certainly didn’t like her.  She was the most volatile creature in all of Asgard.  He never knew how to behave around the short dangerous fire sorceress.  Was she going to punch him? Curse him?  Set him on fire?  Bow to him?  Pity him?  Sometimes she looked as though she might even hug him!  Her emotions toward not only Thor but everyone were utter chaos.  He understood that she’d been in love with Loki, and grief had an odd bewildering effect certainly, for one never knew when a memory might pop up and destroy the day, but it had been two months since his fall, and he couldn’t decide if she was going to murder him in his sleep or embrace him in empathy.  He was fairly certain the former was more likely.  

Swiping at the wetness on his cheeks, not from the torrential downpour but from his tears, he blew out a sad sigh.  Just knowing that his mother wanted to spend all of what little free time she had with the Vanir, that there was no space in her life for her surviving son, was enough to break him.

In his defense though, destroying the bridge had seemed like the only option at the time.  He’d been surrounded.  They all had been!  He remembered thinking it was the only way to cut off the Jotuns.  He couldn’t see, from his vantage point at least, that the Hawks had a new edge!  He knew that it had been a rash decision the moment it had broken, and he’d been sent flying just as everyone else had been.  Mjölnir had been his saving grace, and in a moment of panic, he didn’t think to check for survivors.  All he could think of were his defenseless father and mother.  Who could blame him for that?  Yes, it had been sheer idiocy to go to Jane immediately after, but with everything that had just happened, he simply hadn’t been thinking straight!  

It was for that very reason, the fact that Jane had been a ridiculous distraction that had cost him his only brother who had proven to be a most amazing king, that Thor couldn’t stand to visit her in the healing chambers.  He hated seeing her face, hearing her voice.  Everything about her was just a terrible reminder of what he’d done.  He’d lost the hawks, his brother, the bridge, and all respect.  

He had to visit her periodically, though.  It would have been cruel not to, and Thor had never been cruel.  He wasn’t about to start being cruel now.  Someone had to tell her how the work on the bifrost was going, and he needed to show at least a little care for her.  The poor thing was stuck here until they completed the bridge, and he had no idea how much longer it would take.  Gods, here now on this sad excuse for a bridge, under freezing endless rain, all he felt was…

Loss—He’d lost everything.  

His biggest lost, even bigger than losing Loki, was his mother.  Frigga now looked at him as though he disgusted her.  He just didn’t understand it.  He was her only son now!  He was all she had left!  Did she not see that?  Was she just angry that she was being forced to court each day?  Weren’t they all making sacrifices at this point?  She wasn’t the only one grieving!  He’d lost his only brother!  He scoffed at the word brother.  

Frigga had told him the news that Loki wasn’t his blood brother.  It had been a bit of a shock, and it made him wonder if that knowledge had urged his brother to destroy Jotunheim completely.  They’d been taught to hate the Jotuns from the time they could remember, so it was understandable that he would want to remove all aspects of his true heritage.  Maybe if Loki could rid the entire universe of the monsters, he wouldn’t have felt like one himself.  Had that been his thinking?

Thor shook his head, grabbing another square inch block of quartz, setting it to the liquid metal, his hot breath making steam in the cold wind as he considered his late brother’s final days.  Loki had just found out he was a frost giant, then had been handed the crown after Thor had been banished, then had war thrust upon him, and yet he’d managed to keep his head on straight.  He’d probably been even more exhausted than Thor was now, and yet he’d done it.  Every kingly duty, new as it was to him, Loki had successfully completed every single fucking day.  It was no wonder that Loki was the hero now.  He’d been smarter, grown stronger, been the most powerful sorcerer in the nine, been given the throne and had made it proud—made everyone proud—and on top of it all, Loki had found the love of his life.  Thor wasn’t so sure suddenly if he adored his brother or positively despised him in that moment.

More thunder boomed, the sound of children screaming and then laughing echoing across the realm at the crash causing a momentary grin to spread across Thor’s face as he pulled the black hood of his cloak further over his blond head.  A slender hand landed on his shoulder then, and turning to see the rain wet face of Sif, he nodded, his voice raspy from the effort of working from dawn until well past dusk.

“I won’t be much longer,” he said, his voice hoarse from the cold.

Sighing, she turned, and he watched her as she mounted her horse and rode back to the palace.  Looking around, seeing that most of the workers had left, he shrugged and returned his attention to the siding of the bridge.  He preferred the solitude.  Fewer eyes to bore into the back of his head.  He could now work in peace with nothing but his thoughts, unpleasant as they were, to keep him company under the twisting angry clouds.  Other than the bridge, he had one thing to bring him some semblance of peace.  Or at least, the illusion of it.  Really more like a relief.  And she was disappearing down the bridge.

Sif—they’d picked right back up where they’d left off before he’d been banished.  It wasn’t remotely fair to Jane.  After all, Sif had tried to kill the girl, but then again, he’d delved into a relationship with Jane far too quickly, which hadn’t exactly been fair to Sif, thus she had every right to be eternally pissed at the girl, though he didn’t approve of kicking her senseless.  Thor scowled at his own callous behavior.  

What was so difficult about just keeping it in his gods damn pants?  By Hel, even Loki had had more control over his sexual desire, and Thor was fairly certain that his brother had had more offers than he’d had (something that never ceased to piss Thor off).  Honestly though, he hadn’t truly picked up where he and Sif had left off.  He was hardly falling in love with her like he had been before his exile.  Scarcely feeling any emotion other than anger or despair or merciful numbness, there was no room for anything resembling love.  No, what he was doing with Sif was nothing more than satiating a carnal desire, a physical release, a momentary escape from his dreadful reality.  

Not wanting to make their relationship known to anyone, he visited her chambers nightly and returned to his own shortly thereafter.  His efforts to keep the relationship clandestine had more purpose than just to keep it quiet for the sake of propriety, though.  He didn’t want Sif thinking there was something more brewing within him, that his once loving feelings for her had returned to him.  For certain, he did care for her.  He wanted her safe, wished her well, and if they were battling together, he would defend her, but he was hardly in love with her.  They had sex—a lot.  Nothing more.  Knowing that Sif wanted more, he had to tread carefully.

One other place that he visited daily, other than Sif and his work on the bridge, was his father’s chambers.  Odin had adored him, and he was the only man in the realm who would still have shown him love.  The only man who could give him sound advice.  Encouragement.  Strength to just do this!  Why hadn’t the old man awakened yet?!  Thor wished that he would.  Being a disgraced prince was one thing, but being a disgraced king was just …. what was it?  Terrible?  Thor rolled his eyes. 

‘Terrible’ was a weak description.  Loki had once said that Thor didn’t know many adjectives.  Damn his brother for being right.  For always being right.  For being so godsdamn smart and cunning.  For growing in physical strength and prowess.  For having the enduring love of their mother.  For falling in love.  And staying in love.  And having that love returned in earnest.  Even until death.  Even beyond death.  Setting the final liquid metal against the jagged edge, Thor stood, and breathing heavily, he walked back down the long bridge to find Sif.

---

~THE HEALING HALLS, EAST CORRIDOR, NORTH WING OF THE PALACE, ASGARD~

It hadn’t stopped storming in the two months since Loki’s fall, so there was no riding Sinir, practicing magic in the gardens, or fighting in the arena for Sigyn.  Sure the Asgardian soldiers who were becoming the new Hawks trained in the pouring rain, but her main weapon was fire.  How useful would she be in a torrential downpour?  Sadly, she was stuck inside the palace, and she could do only so much wandering through the library or visiting the dining hall before she would absolutely lose her mind.  Not that there was much left to lose, to be honest.

Speaking of the dining hall, she only visited it when her hunger became too pronounced to ignore it, the gnawing ache in her belly forcing her to eat even though she had no desire to do so.  Picking at the food available, she would eat the tasteless slop just enough to calm the pangs in her stomach.  Her mind and body feeling nothing short of sluggish, she knew she needed to eat more, and she did desire to be strong physically, for the strength of her muscles was all she had.  The heart was where true strength lived, and the bond with Loki, not just the blood bond but the seemingly impossible love between them, had given her more strength than she’d ever had on her own.  Now that he was gone, she felt weak.  

Powerless.

Staring ahead blankly, just aware enough of her surroundings in the hall so as not to walk right into someone or into a pillar as she once had, she followed the same path to the healing room that she’d been visiting daily.  Her first visit had been mere happenstance, strolling in out of sheer boredom.  They’d once been crowded.  After the battle with Jotunheim, the healers had been positively overwhelmed with the wounded, but the rooms were now empty, save for two people.  One of those people was Jane Foster, not because she hadn’t healed, but because she simply had no means of getting home.  Poor girl—the hatred Sigyn had once felt for the human scientist had faded entirely.  Jane hadn’t asked for any of this.  She hadn’t caused any of this either.  Every ounce of Sigyn’s anger and hatred, and sometimes pity or sadness (gods, she didn’t know what she felt) was now aimed at King Thor.  However, Sigyn hadn’t come to see Jane.  

She’d come to visit a new friend, and walking slowly to his door, knocking softly, waiting for the invitation to enter, she stepped into the room where Heimdall was seated in a chair on the covered balcony.  It was a good thing it was covered since it was still raining.  Thor needed to cease his brooding.  Did he know how miserable the entire realm was with no daylight at all?!  She approached the once gatekeeper of Asgard with loud steps so as not to startle him and pulled a chair up next to him. 

“Still no change then?” she asked gently, setting her hand on his shoulder.

Smiling weakly, Heimdall ran a finger across the bandage that was wrapped around his eyes and tied at the back of his head. 

“Eir informed me that the sixth surgery might work, but her hopeful words are just that.  Hope.  Very little of it, I’m afraid.  I am not confident as I once was that my eyesight will be restored.”

Sigyn frowned, tears burning her eyes.  When the Jotun had struck him in the face during the attack in the observatory, ice piercing his golden all seeing eyes, the giants had left him for dead.  Sif and the warriors three, however, had battled their way down the bridge and had discovered him while fighting.  Once they’d seen he was still breathing, they’d taken him straight to Eir.  If it hadn’t been for finding the gatekeeper, Thor’s friends would have been tossed in the explosion, too.  Disconcerting as it was to know that Asgard was without a gatekeeper capable of seeing the nine realms and their inhabitants, Sigyn was less intimidated by his presence and it made it infinitely easier to speak with him.  Of course she wanted his sight restored.  Everyone did.  The news of his blindness spreading throughout the realm, the citizens were more than a little concerned that they had no one to keep watch for any threats to the realm.

“I remain ever hopeful, Heimdall,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Reaching up, he found her hand on his shoulder and gave it a good squeeze. “I know, dear Lady Sigyn.  Though if I had my sight still, I know not why you would want to know where Loki is.  For wherever he is, you could not follow him, dear one.”

Heart sinking, knowing he was right, she choked on a held back sob. “I know.  It does not change the fact that I wish to know.  After all he did for Asgard, maybe the Valkyries wouldn’t turn him away.  Do you not think that is a possibility, at least?”

Heimdall smiled. “Yes, Lady Sigyn.  I do think that is possible.  King Loki proved his worth many times over before his death.”

“Do you suppose I proved my worth during battle?” she whispered, laughing weakly.

Heimdall turned his face toward her, and if she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he could see her, even through the bandage. 

“Lady Sigyn, you have many days ahead of you in which you can and will prove your worth.  You are not bound to your past.  If your time comes, and I hope it does not, I suspect you shall find your way to Valhalla.”

Moved beyond words, she hugged him and kissed his dark cheek. “I shall see you tomorrow then,” she said. “Sleep well, my friend.” She helped him to his bed, and once he had settled, she walked quickly from the room and shut the door quietly.

Turning for the royal corridor, she paused at the sound of a small voice swearing behind another door, and walking toward the voice, she knocked, waiting for it to swing open.  Jane Foster, huffing and swiping her long brown hair away from her face, stood on the other side staring back at her in shock.

“Oh my god!”

Sigyn put up her hands, palms facing Jane, and backed up a step. “I’m not here to hurt you, Dr. Foster.  You have my word.”

Eyeing the Vanir suspiciously, Jane pursed her lips before nodding quickly. “Yeah, I bet if you’d wanted to off me you would have already.  Come in.  I mean, that is, if you want to.  God, I don’t even know what day it is.” Rolling her big brown eyes, Jane bit her lip and stepped aside for Sigyn to enter the room that looked as though a tempest had formed right in the middle of it, blankets, clothes, papers, and books littering every surface.

“Sorry for the mess,” she said, gesturing to the disaster. “I wasn’t exactly expecting company.  No one comes here.  Well, I mean, Thor does, but when he does it’s really weird.  I don’t know what I did, but clearly I did something to make him hate me.  And, yay, now I’m stuck here.  I mean not that Asgard isn’t great-” Jane paused, frowning at the storm blowing outside the balcony “-but I have a life back home, y’know?  I bet you’d hate being stuck on Earth since you’re from Asgard.  I mean, you get it, right?”

Sighing heavily, Sigyn shrugged, shaking her head. “Actually, I hail from Vanaheim, though I claim Asgard as my home now.  I do, however, understand your predicament.” Circling on one foot, she waved a hand at the loose papers. “What is all this?”

Scowling, Jane darted around the room gathering the papers and clutching them to her chest before dumping them on the bed.

“Oh yeah so all this-” she paused, fumbling to find something beneath the pile, and retrieving a book, she flipped through the handwritten pages “-is the work I do back home.  I’m rewriting everything I can remember.  I didn’t exactly have time to pack before I came here, or was brought here, I mean.  Not that it would have mattered if I had since S.H.I.E.L.D. confiscated all my research.  Assholes.”

“A shield stole your work?” Confused, Sigyn reached for the book and snatched it from Jane’s hands, landing on a page with a drawing of the bifrost.

Laughing, Jane shook her head. “No no no no.  It’s an acronym.  Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.  Stupid, right?  It’s one of my country’s top secret government agencies.”

Nodding in understanding, Sigyn handed the book back to her. “Sounds….. overbearing.”

“You said it,” Jane mumbled and plopped on the bed.

Empathy pulling at her features, Sigyn stared at the tiny human. “I have some experience with overbearing leaders myself.  I am truly sorry that they took your work.  Why did they?  What exactly do you do?”

Without skipping a beat, Jane pushed aside the papers and patted the spot next to her on the bed.  Brow furrowed, Sigyn sat down and looked at the scribbles and drawings that Jane pointed to in her book. 

“I’m a scientist or more specifically an astrophysicist.”

“I see,” Sigyn said, squinting at the page. “You research the wonders of the universe then, and you stumbled upon the bifrost when Thor was banished.”

Brows raised, Jane nodded slowly. “Yeah well, that’s one way of putting it.  I mean, that’s really simplifying it.  I wouldn’t say that I stumbled upon the bifrost so much as recorded unknown electromagnetic disturbances in the atmosphere, compared them with the thermodynamic properties of our knownー”

“Please stop,” Sigyn cut her off with a wave of her hand. “Everything I said was perfectly accurate.  There is no need to overcomplicate things.  What interest does this S.H.I.E.L.D. agency have in the bifrost?”

Scowling, Jane threw up her hands. “What I discovered in New Mexico, which I now know was the bifrost, alongside my colleague Dr. Selvig is proof of other worlds.  Other worlds means other intelligent lifeforms in our universe.  We little Earthlings refer to those beings as aliens.  Our government has a century’s worth of incidents that suggest the existence of other lifeforms, but they are constantly covering it up.  Anyhow.  That’s not the point.  The bifrost emitted enough energy to fuel a nuclear bomb, and it just sort of fell out of the sky!  I mean, nothing like that has been recorded in our written history.  And since I’d been the one researching it and making equipment to test it or possibly recreate a significantly smaller version of it, they just had to swoop in and take all of it.  It’s all a power play.  Knowledge is power, after all.  Who knows, maybe they’re gonna use my research to make an Einstein-Rosen bridge of their own.  Or at least try to.  Pfft.  Good luck.”

Rolling her eyes at Jane’s insistence on using terms she wasn’t familiar with, Sigyn held up a finger. “What is an Einstein-Rosen bridge?”

Jane laughed. “Oh sorry.  Erm, it’s a wormhole.  It’s like time travel across the universe.  It’s basically what the bifrost is.”

Humming, Sigyn stood and walked to the rain soaked balcony. “Will this agency not return your research to you when they have finished?”

Jane snorted, slamming the book shut. “I’m not holding my breath.  I don’t think they’ll ever be finished with it.  They probably hired on my colleague or may have detained him back when I was brought here. God, my friends and family are probably going out of their minds wondering what happened to me.  Erik probably saw me leave but-”

“Who is Erik?” Sigyn cut her off. 

Glaring, annoyed with Sigyn’s abrupt conversational skills and constant interruptions, Jane’s shoulders slumped as she looked across to the construction on the bridge.

“Dr. Erik Selvig.  I mentioned him earlier.  I’m sorry, but I’m more than a little frustrated here.  I have a life to get back to.  If I could somehow let people back home know that I’m okay, then I would gladly stick around and do the most incredible research of my life here in Asgard.  That is if it would ever stop raining.”

Sigyn turned to face her, eyes darting back and forth, lips pursed. “Are you concerned for Erik?”

Jane nodded emphatically. “Well yeah!  Of course I am!  S.H.I.E.L.D. detained Thor and accused him of being a terrorist just because he’d attempted to get back his hammer!”

Sigyn couldn’t help the heavy sigh that escaped her as she moved from the balcony rubbing her temples.  Jane Foster’s voice was far too shrill for her liking.

“Calm down for a moment, please, and let me think.”

Brows raising, Jane followed hot on Sigyn’s heels. “Think about what?  Is there something you can do?  I mean, you were Loki’s girlfriend, right?  He was a sorcerer and you are, too, right?”

At the mention of Loki, Sigyn turned sharply, eyes narrowed. “Girlfriend?  Oh right.  That’s one way of saying it.  Yes and yes.  I might be able to get you home before the bifrost is complete, but it’ll take time, if it’s even possible.  If anyone would have known how to get you back, Loki would have.  I’m quite sure I can find something in his books.”

“Oh my god, thank you!” Jane threw her arms around Sigyn then.

Eyes wide, startled by the sudden contact, Sigyn gently pulled away from her. “You should know that he has thousands of books.  Like I said.  It’ll take some time.  I’ll leave you be now.”

Nodding, Jane smiled. “Sure.  See you soon.  Or not soon.  Or….whatever.  Bye.”

---

~LOKI’S OLD CHAMBERS, ROYAL CORRIDOR, SOUTH WING OF THE PALACE~

Other than his sheets and furs, which Sigyn tossed and turned in every night, she hadn’t moved any of Loki’s things since his ….

Death.  

She hated that word.  It was so final.  She always used the less painful ‘fall‘ instead.  Maybe it was time to just admit it though.  Accept it.  Allow that wretched word to fully absorb into the deepest fragments of her soul.  

Sighing heavily, she stood in the middle of his chambers, looking around the space.  He would have never willingly left his rooms in such a messy state.  He hadn’t exactly had the time to tidy up that horrible day of the Jotun attack.  The day he’d left her.  The day he’d died.  The day she’d died.  She hadn’t had the heart to change anything, disheveled as it was. 

She took a deep breath, working up the courage to make that first change.  Gingerly pulling a stack of his books from one of the many bookshelves scattered throughout his chambers, she let the tears welling up in her eyes fall.  She’d been holding them back for two months now.  That last day with him had been nothing but tears, and she’d not wanted to feel them wetting her cheeks ever again.  She’d gone about her pointless existence with the same stoic resolve of the guards posted at the gates of the city or Heimdall even.  

But now, actually moving his things, pulling out his desk chair, pushing aside the papers littering the surface of his workspace, it felt like betrayal.  This was exactly where he’d stood that fateful morning.  She remembered it so clearly, as though he were standing right there next her.  He’d toyed with the horns of his helmet, which had now been melted by a flaming arrow and fallen over the edge of the sea.  He’d grabbed his sleeping pants from the chair after rising to take on another day of kingly duties.  His desperate words echoed in her mind:

“Must I DO today?”

He’d been exhausted, both physically and mentally, and yet he’d mustered the courage to get up and do his job, unlike the current king who’d pushed every single duty on poor Frigga.  Frowning, fresh tears stinging her eyes, Sigyn pushed up from the desk.  She truly wanted to help Jane get back to Earth.  The girl didn’t deserve the not-so-royal treatment she was receiving from Thor, and if Sigyn could put even one second of her time to good use and help someone, then dammit she’d wanted to, but all these journals, Loki’s journals in his beautiful handwriting and meticulous drawing, were too much.  Shaking her head, her lower lip trembled.

I can’t do this.

Running her fingers across the pages, it was as though he was right there.  The words moved up from the page, splaying across her vision, the echo of his voice speaking those words ringing in her ears.  It was ruining her resolve.  It was ruining her, as though there was any part of her left to be ruined in the first place.  She would have to go through thousands of his journals and feel him and yet not feel him over and over.  

Swallowing back a sob, she walked to his dressing room, the smell of leather overwhelming her instantly.  She hadn’t been in this room since that dreadful day when she’d grabbed a towel from one of the many shelves and had handed it to him for a morning wash.  Even though the smell brought back all the memories she wanted to forget and yet not forget had her falling to her knees clutching one of his jackets to her chest, rocking back and forth, wailing from the sudden fresh grief coursing through her, it was….

Relieving.  

Oh gods, she should have come here sooner.  Why hadn’t she just let herself scream every single day?  She’d earned it hadn’t she?  The love of her life had been ripped from her, and she’d been there to witness every second of his devastating demise.  If anyone deserved to scream, to sob, to lash out, to run away from everything, it was her.  Like coming back from the dead, screaming was music to her ears, the eardrums having finally healed after that horrid explosion had shattered them.

“Why couldn’t you pull up, Loki?!  Why?!  You were too heavy for me!  I couldn’t save you!  Gods, Loki, I’m so so so sorry….”

Choking on the words, her cries becoming nothing but rasping whispers, she threaded her arms through his jacket sleeves, pulling the too big garment tightly around her, and grabbing a nearby shelf for support, she pulled to her feet, left the dressing room and walked to the balcony.  Relishing in the invigorating cold torrential downpour that drenched her in seconds, lightning flashing, thunder booming, she turned back to the room, and nodding once to herself, she walked to the desk once more.  She was leaving puddles everywhere, but she didn’t care for there had to be a portal to Midgard somewhere in this realm, and if anyone had known of it, it would have been Loki.

Opening the first journal, she began reading quietly.  A small tendril of black smoke seeping from her fingertip, the candelabra on the desk lit in one swift whisper.

FALLEN CONTINUES IN CHAPTER THIRTEEN: ARE YOU READY?

Visit the Trilogy main page HERE.

Fallen Chapters: ¹ Come Back to Me, Sig. ² I’ll Protect You From Everything ³ Let’s Just See How This Plays Out ⁴ When Did I Get So Soft? ⁵ Bring Me Home (But Not to This) ⁶ Death is Everywhere ⁷ The Bridge ⁸ The Desert ⁹ Remember Remember (It Hurts Like Hel) ¹⁰ Green is for Life ¹¹ I Don’t Make Deals With Monsters ¹² Rain Rain, Go Away ¹³ Are You Ready? ¹⁴ I Will Find You

CHAPTER TWELVE THEME SONG:

“Still Here” by Digital Daggers

What Readers Have Said

About CH 12 “Rain Rain, Go Away”

“Thor is an ass! I really like your take on this particular character.”

-Pixelerrante, on CH 12 “Rain Rain, Go Away”, 12 Aug 2017 (AO3)

“Amazing, wonderful chapter.”

-Tisifone21, on CH 12 “Rain Rain, Go Away”, 15 Aug 2017 (AO3)

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