Fallen CH 2
~ REGNELBRÆR FALLS, LEVENDEGRØN, VANAHEIM~
Rubbing her eyes and wincing at the bruises that covered her entire body, Sigyn woke nearly ten hours after the most emotionally wrought sex of her life. Lying prone on the ground, her body now clothed and wrapped in a heavy fur pelt, she turned over and shakily pushed up to sit on her knees. Pulling the pelt more tightly around her, she frowned at the sight of Loki, sweating and shirtless, placing strange objects around the fire.
“What are you doing?” she asked, eyeing the objects.
Smiling, he didn’t turn away from the flames. “Ah, you’re awake.”
She looked down, marvelling at the ridiculously comfortable, yet extremely form-fitting leggings she now wore and tugged on the hem of her tunic.
“I suppose I have you to thank for these clothes and the pelt?”
Still staring into the flames, he nodded. “I did conjure the garments for you, love,” he said, running a hand through his hair, “but you have Fenrir to thank for the pelts. He hunted down a bear and brought him back for us to eat. I skinned the beast and cleaned him up. Although conjuring the furs would have been easier in hindsight. It was a rather bloody mess.” He cringed at the memory.
Smiling brightly, she walked to the sleeping wolf by the fire and leaned down to gently pet his head. “Well I thank both of you, then,” she whispered so as not to wake him. Feeling a bit overwhelmed by the heat from the flames, she quickly removed the fur and crawled to Loki, groaning at the pressure of the hard stone under her bruised knees.
“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt? Not that the sight isn’t glorious,” she asked, kissing his shoulder.
He finally dropped his gaze from the fire and smirked at her. “I’ve been awake for hours, hovering over this fire. I assure you, the purpose for my state of undress is only to avoid overheating. I have no other intentions.”
“Damn,” she said, winking at him. Loki laughed quietly as she trailed a finger down his spine. “What is all this?” she asked, gesturing to the items he had gathered.
Exhaling heavily, he returned his eyes to the flames. “I’m-” he hesitated, not exactly sure how to answer “-undoing a spell.”
Furrowing her brow, she narrowed her eyes at the objects Loki was gathering: two locks of black hair, one very long, the other shorter, evergreen needles, a chunk of ice, a raven’s feather, a handful of dirt, and ashes.
“And what spell is that?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, not wanting to admit he’d been the cause of the agony she’d experienced.
“A death spell,” he answered quietly, daring a glance at her. Her expression was a mixture of confusion and fear, and before she could respond, he added, “I’m so sorry. It was never meant for you.”
Her jaw dropped. “The one on the tree? You cast it?” she asked, searching his now glistening eyes.
Shaking his head, he squeezed his eyes shut, and the words tumbled from his lips. “Sig, love, please, you must forgive me. I know it was terrible, to put it mildly, but It was seven hundred years ago. The Æsir-Vanir War had just ended, and it was meant to keep out the Vanir militia. I was a young Seiður, and I just didn’t think it through. Please, Sig. I’d forgotten the tree existed until you were pulled through it. Otherwise, I would have removed the enchantment sooner. I’m so sorry, Sig, I’m so-”
She cut him off with a chaste kiss. Well, that was a much better response than he’d anticipated. He smiled against her lips as she peeled herself away.
“You are forgiven. Now finish this spell or undo it or whatever it is that needs to be done. Asgard can’t have its king hidden away in a Vanaheim cave.” She paused, brow creasing. “Wait, you are still king, correct? How long was I gone?”
Loki looked at her, squinting. That was a good question. How long had she been gone? In the moment, when he’d been rocking her body against his, trying to remember the spell and then finally chanting it over and over, it had felt like days had gone by, but the sun in the sky told him otherwise. Maybe an hour?
“No longer than an hour, I think,” he said, looking away, somewhat confused. “I’m trying to recall the differences in time between Vanaheim and Asgard. Come to think of it, I have no idea how time works in Helheim.”
She was chewing her lower lip nervously when he looked back down at her, and he reached up to pull her lip away from her teeth so she wouldn’t make herself bleed.
“However long it felt while you were there, it was only an hour, and yes, I am still king,” he finished with a toothy smile, which she returned and leaned into him. Wrapping his arm around her, Loki squeezed her shoulder and returned his focus to the objects that lay before him.
“I think I’ve finally got it,” he said, releasing her and snapping his fingers. “When I spelled the tree, I combined illusion, mind control, siren, and death magic. The illusion was Vanaheim’s perfection. The mind control convinced one that Asgard was deadly. A place of pain and sorrow. The beautiful waterfall was the siren, pulling one back to the final ingredient of the spell, which was of course, death. Suicide had been the goal of the spell. All I need in order to undo the enchantment is remove the first step, then the others will fall apart of their own accord. If the illusion drops, the rest is no matter.”
Picking up the long lock of hair, rolling it in her fingers, she whispered, “And what is illusion but a visual lie? The truth is in the elements. The elements are reality and will destroy the lie.”
Smiling at her quick recollection of the words he’d once spoken in their magic lesson in the icy garden so long ago, he nodded.
“Someone has been practicing her magic without me,” he said, poking her nose as she shrugged. “Earth,” he continued, retrieving the tresses that had once graced her own head from her hand, “Two locks of black hair, one from the head of a Vanir and one from the head of the spellcaster.”
He tossed them, along with the shorter locks from his own, into the fire. The pine needles and the dirt came next.
“Needles from both sides of the portal itself,” he said, tossing them in as well. “Soil from Asgard and soil from Vanaheim.”
Squeezing his hand, Sigyn stared into the flames as he whispered words in the ancient language.
“Jarðarinnar. Frá forstöðumanns Vönum og frá höfði að Seiður, hár, nálum eitt tré og nálar af öðru, jarðvegi Ásgarð og jarðvegi Vanaheimr.”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, feeling suddenly weak, his fair skin becoming paler still as he continued. He’d forgotten the warning in the fine print about death spells. Apparently undoing them was painful.
“Air,” he continued, blinking rapidly at his increasingly blurry vision. “The wings of the wise and honest raven. And the breath of a Vanir and the spellcaster.” Dropping the feather into the fire, he bade her to blow into the flames with him as he spoke.
“Lofts koma á vængi vitur og sannur hrafn og anda Vönum og Ásum.”
Sigyn held his sagging frame against her, struggling from his pain which she felt through their bond. No longer able to hold him up, she dropped to her knees under his crushing weight. Gods, was he heavy.
“Water,” he croaked, his voice hoarse as he held the ice over the flames. Melting in his grasp, he pulled his hand back before the fire burned him.
“From the siren falls herself, ice. Frá fryst fellur sig, ís,” he whispered, eyes closing as he struggled to breathe.
“Don’t fail me now, Loki,” Sigyn begged him, holding his head. “You must finish this. You must. I cannot return to Asgard with you if you don’t.” Leaning down, she kissed him, and he reached up, grasping the back of her neck, welcoming her mouth on his.
“I can finish it,” he said, pushing himself up, “and I will.” For you. “Fire,” he said, clearing his throat. Scooping the ashes into his hands, he stood to his feet.
“Engulfed by flames you were. Ashes you became. Into the fire, you return. Earth, air, water, fire. Let them undo your end. Vanir men and women, see the truth for the lies.” Loki grabbed her hand and poured half of the ashes into her palm, and cold sweat pouring down his face, his eyes met hers.
“Do you remember the ancient language?” At her nod, he smiled. “Good. Then finish the spell with me.”
Nervous, she turned to the fire and with him, tossed the ashes into it, sparks flying, the flames growing, burning brighter. She closed her eyes and spoke, the strange words rolling off her tongue as did his.
“Af eldi. Í eldi þú varst. Aska þú varðst. Í eldinn, aftur þú. Jörð, loft, vatn, eldur. Látum þá afturkalla þinn endir. Vönum menn og konur, sjá sannleikann fyrir lygar!”
They collapsed to the cold cave floor, both having exhausted their Seiðr. She groaned, cradling her head, hoping the spell had worked. Out of one eye, she saw that the flames had returned to their normal height, and rolling over to him, she pushed his hair from his face. She kissed his cheek and pulled the fur pelt over his chest.
“Are you alright?”
Eyes closed, he smiled and entwined his fingers with hers. “I just need to rest for a moment.”
She held his hand to her face. “Rest as long as you need. A king needs his strength. Is there anything I can do?”
Nodding his head, he pulled her under the fur with him. “Just stay with me. Once we’ve recovered from everything, we’ll make for the portal. Rest assured, Sig, I’ll keep you safe from harm.”
~Six Hours Later~
Six hours later, Loki awoke to the smell of roasted meat. Opening his eyes, he saw Sigyn smiling and holding one of Fenrir’s catches, cleaned and cooked, up to his mouth.
“I’m sorry I don’t have salt,” she said raising her eyebrows apologetically, “but it’ll fill your belly.”
Grinning widely (good gods he was starving), he sat up and grabbed the meat. “Who needs salt? It’s food.”
Biting into the tough game, he made a face. It did need salt—Badly. Thankfully, he’d had enough rest to restore his magic after the death spell, so he conjured some salt and sprinkled it on the meat, winking at her when she glared at him. He licked his lips then, and sprinkled some on hers, as well. Ravenous as she was, she ignored table manners (who really cared anyhow?) and spoke with a mouth full of food.
“Your tricks have never been more convenient. I don’t suppose you could create some wine as well?”
Holding up one finger, he conjured two goblets and walked to the cave entrance. “Wine is the last thing we need, darling,” he said and held the cups under the heavy mist from the falls until they were full. “Water is the best medicine.” He downed the first cup and refilled it, also downing that one.
“I think that’s laughter actually,” she said, biting her lip and smiling as she watched him drink. How she loved watching that neck with each gulp.
“Ha-ha,” he deadpanned and beckoned her to join him with two fingers. “Drink.”
She took the cup and gulped greedily. No beverage having ever tasted more divine, the ice water invigorating her senses. Swiping the back of her hand across her mouth, she handed the cup back to Loki.
“More.”
He refilled it, and when she went to grab it, he held it up above his head, just out of her reach. Glaring up at him, she went up on her toes, trying to pull his arm down, but it was of no use. He was too tall. She stopped herself from stomping her foot, settling instead for crossing her arms.
“That is the least fun game ever, Loki.”
Raising his eyebrows, he smiled. “Where are your manners, my love?”
Well how the Hel was she supposed to be upset with him in the slightest when he called her that? It was completely unfair.
“More, please?” she asked, eyebrows raised to mirror his as she held out her hand. Chuckling as he handed her the cup, he leaned down to kiss her. “Thank you,” she said against his mouth, “my king.”
His breath hitched in his chest, and he set his jaw. “Now who’s being unfair?” he hissed, using every bit of self control he had to back away from her.
Six or seven goblets later, they gathered their few things. His outer clothes, having been laid flat before the fire, had dried, and he pulled the garments on. He saddled Sinir and pulled himself onto the horse. Holding his hand to her, he nodded.
“Come on, Sig, I told you I won’t let any harm befall you.”
Anxiety turning her stomach, she ran one hand through her hair, the other rubbing her neck.
“But what if the undoing spell didn’t work? What if we reach the portal, and I have that horrible urge to kill myself again? I can’t go through that, Loki. Not again. I just…I can’t.”
She had only been halfway done talking when Loki jumped down and wrapped his arms around her.
“Sig, I swear to you that I will protect you from everything that would ever seek to harm you. I know that you are powerful and strong and fully capable of fighting for yourself, but in this believe me. From this day forward, you have nothing to fear. Not with me at your side. I’d sooner let Asgard burn than I would let anyone or anything hurt you,” he swore and pulled back to look at her, questioning if she trusted him.
Tears stung her eyes as she nodded in agreement. He’d never said anything truer. Rubbing a tear from her eye, she laughed quietly at the irony. The god of mischief and lies was speaking in earnest. He grinned widely, the expression crinkling his eyes. His heart felt as though it might burst from happiness. No one had ever put so much faith in him, and gods, he loved her for it, for believing in him when no one else would.
“Good. Come. We must hurry,” he whispered, and gripping her waist, he lifted her into the saddle. He then pulled himself up, sitting behind her protectively, and snaking his arms underneath hers, he gripped the reins and kicked his horse gently.
“Flýt, Sin,” he commanded, and the dark horse neighed and charged out of the cave and up the rocky bank.
Fenrir was on their heels, and snow flung up under their pounding feet as they neared the tree. Sigyn’s stomach turned over painfully, and tears began to build up again. The tree was but twenty feet hence, its bark shimmering as a prism as they came upon it. This was it. It had to work.
I can’t die again.
Hearing her terrified thoughts, Loki tightened his grip on the reins under her arms, whispering in the ear that was exposed by the wind that was whipping her hair back.
“It did work. I promise. Remember. No harm. Now, close your eyes.”
Instinctively, she screamed inside the portal, fearing the worst. He clamped his hand over her mouth to avoid being discovered by the Hawks that he’d sent, without thinking in an absolute panic, as a search party before he’d found the tree. He didn’t want anyone to know of the secret portals between the realms. The plans he had required those portals to stay secret. He’d deal with the Hawks when they got back. Bursting through the other side, Sinir galloped full speed into Asgard.
“Open your eyes, Sig,” he said, smiling against her cheek.
She peeked through slits of eyes, and swiveling to look back at the tree, she laughed out loud. He tried to shush her, since he could hear the Hawks’ hooves pounding closer to them, but his own enthusiasm overcame him, and he laughed into her hair.
“It worked, Loki!” she squealed under his hand.
“Did I not tell you it had? No harm,” he said firmly, kissing her cheek.
Giving a gentle nudge with his boot to Sinir’s side, he sped faster through the trees. Fenrir ran ahead of them, and Sigyn could have sworn she saw him turn his furry head and smile at her, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.
Loki’s mouth hovered over her ear. “A king will always protect his queen.”
Grey green eyes bore into his as she turned to look at him. “Was that a marriage proposal?”
Winking, he kissed her as they neared the stables. “Possibly.”
FALLEN CONTINUES IN CHAPTER THREE: LET’S JUST SEE HOW THIS PLAYS OUT.
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 TWO THEME SONG:
“Close Your Eyes” by Digital Daggers
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