~LOKI’S CHAMBERS, THE SOUTH WING~

Loki awoke before dawn, an unusual occurrence as of late.  He’d always been a bit of a slow riser, preferring to attend to his personal business during the darkest hours of night.  The dark suited him, unsurprisingly, and he found it made his work more tolerable.  The downside of being king, however, was that he was forced to do a realm’s worth of work during the daylight hours, and since he refused to abandon his magic studies at night (a Seiður could lose his abilities if he didn’t wield magic regularly), he was exhausted.  

Perhaps he wouldn’t have been so tired if it wasn’t for the woman sleeping in his bed, but despite his exhaustion, he couldn’t help himself.  Ever since he had brought her back from Helheim, he found it impossible to keep his hands off her when she was in his presence.  He desired her more than ever, and she was a more than willing participant in their love life.  The sex was intense, to say the least, and his stamina had not wavered, and that meant that the few precious hours that allowed for a bit of shut eye were spent instead burying himself inside of her until he finally found release.

Groaning, he rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his inky locks.  He’d not cut his hair in months. When he’d met Sigyn, it had been just below his chin, but she liked it at his shoulders as it was now. She was always playing with it, twirling her fingers in the soft ends.  It was endearing the way she admired something as simple as his hair, but it was a pain to maintain.  He had to spend a solid fifteen minutes washing and conditioning it in the shower every day.  It was absurd how much time it took him to prepare himself for the day.  He pulled a face at the thought as he pulled out a tangle.

Turning to face the dark haired beauty curled up on her side next to him, he ghosted a finger along her jaw and cupped the back of her neck with his hand before moving it down her spine and resting it on the small of her back.  Fingers splayed, he pulled her flush against his chest and kissed her forehead.  She mumbled something incoherent, still in a light sleep, and shivered against his cold skin.  

He wanted to stay there.  He didn’t have any desire to remove himself from his bed, from their bed.  Ever.  The day loomed before him, as it had since his all too quick and private coronation, and he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.  He had far too many people to see, too many requests to listen to, too many bills to sign, too much fretting over Jotunheim to do, and too little time to do it in.  He’d delegated well enough, but he had an entire realm under his care, and he could have used a hundred more advisors and military strategists.  He could have used Thor.  

It was unbelievable how much he had missed the brute lately.  He loved Sigyn, but his brother, despite their strained relationship, had been his closest ally and friend since he could remember.  Even if not by blood, he would always be his brother.  And, in truth, in a moment of weakness, Loki had considered handing over Gungnir to Thor once the warriors three returned with him.  He’d seen his brother’s powers restored the night before.  No doubt it had something to do with Thor’s love for his little human and sacrificing himself to save her.  It had been an admirable act, one that his big brother would have been commended for in battle.  Loki wasn’t sure that it made him worthy once more of Mjölnir, but apparently Odin thought so.  Even in his sleep, the Allfather had the power to make such a decision.    

He was pulled from his musings when Sigyn’s fingers combed through his hair.  His vision readjusting from a glazed over stare, he looked at her.  Grey green eyes glinted as the first signs of dawn appeared at the edge of the balcony, and she spoke quietly.

“You’re awake early,” she said, her usually smooth voice cracking a bit, the vocal chords not quite awake.  

“Unfortunately,” he sighed heavily.  His hand moved from her back to her hip, and resting there, his emerald eyes blinked a few times before closing again.

Frowning, she stroked his cheek. “How long did you sleep this time?  Two hours?”  

She moved closer, if that was possible, and buried her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent that she adored.  She’d been to only three realms, but she doubted that in all the nine there was a better smell than Loki.  Keeping her nose at his throat, she exhaled slowly as his voice rumbled against her cheek, his adam’s apple bobbing with each syllable.

“One.  Maybe,” he whispered and pushed a lock of hair behind his ear, groaning quietly as she placed a kiss at the hollow of his throat.  

Dammit, Sig—How could he be this tired and still want to fuck her until she couldn’t walk?  The effect she had on him was absurd and defied all reason.  His body needed a solid week of sleep to recuperate from, well, everything.  

Pulling away from him to look in his eyes, she spoke flatly. “You are king.”

Closing his eyes, he fisted the hand on her hip.  As though he wasn’t hard already, and now she was going to pull the ‘you’re a king’ line?  Was she trying to kill him?

“Don’t tease me with your words, Sig.  I love you.  I adore you.  You don’t have to remind me of my status throughout the realms in order to get in my trousers.”  

He pulled her back to him and ground his hips against hers weakly, his muscles sobbing at the movement. Huh—maybe his body was finally succumbing to the exhaustion after all.  Rolling her eyes, she stilled him, the strength in her arms, for once, beating his. 

“You misunderstand the purpose behind my words.  I simply do not understand that, as king, you can’t choose to take a day off.  A week would be better.  Loki,” she paused, empathy pulling at her features as she rubbed her thumb across the bags under his eyes, “you need rest.  Proper rest. I’m shocked that you haven’t fallen asleep on the throne, yet.  And,” she pushed his roaming hands away before continuing, “I need to give you some space.  Physical space.  I think it best that I return to my chambers for a few days.  I am still a distraction, amazingly.”

Sighing, he slid out from underneath the dark sheets and swung his legs over the side of the bed.  Hands gripping the edge, he hung his head and furrowed his brow, pondering how to push up from the bed and get through the day.  Laufey would arrive tomorrow, and he needed to make preparations.  Reminding himself of the frost giant’s impending arrival and the subsequent end of that situation was enough to spur his legs to work properly.  

He pushed up and strode to his desk chair, retrieving his loose black sleeping pants, and tying the drawstring around his hips, he eyed the bifrost.  He wondered idly when it would light up, signaling his brother’s return.  Maybe he could pass off his duties to Thor for a bit.  Scowling, he shook his head.  Until Odin awoke, if he awoke at all, there would be no throne swapping.  

He toyed with the tips of the horns of his helmet on his desk as he continued blankly staring in the distance.  Sigyn’s arms came around his waist from behind, and he leaned into her, caring not if his weight would send them falling backward onto the floor.  She handed him a towel and shoved him toward his washroom.  Taking the fluffy white thing, his shoulders slumped, and he whined as he stumbled onto the tiles and turned on the water. 

“Must I do today?”

Eyeing him, she smirked. “I think that should be your opening line at court today.  The nasal sound of your voice will be so off-putting that you’ll be dismissed from your kingly duties and sent back to your room for being so pettish.  Perhaps with no dinner.”

Grinning sleepily at her humor, he loosened the tie at his hips, shaking his head. “I don’t know why I bothered to put these on if I was just going to take them right back off.”

It was at that moment that the warning sirens interrupted their hushed tones.  Sigyn’s hands flew to her ears as Loki dashed back to the balcony.  Emerald eyes squinting, he gaped at the sight of the Jotun army bursting through the trees of the forest as Sigyn ran up next to him.  She jumped back though when he slammed his fist into the closest pillar, teeth bared, jaw clenched.  

“For!  Fuck’s!  Sake!”  Each word was punctuated by his fist repeating the action.  

She stared in horror at the scene playing out in front of them.  Citizens screamed and ran through the streets.  Soldiers appeared at the base of the palace, the commanding officers shouting orders to remain in their lines until Loki had given them the charge.  The sirens were deafening as she looked to the bifrost, the sight of a red cape having caught her attention.  

Thor—Her heart soared at the thought of the warrior’s return.  She snapped out of her haze at Loki’s booming voice. 

“SIGYN!”

Turning, she caught the Vanir warrior gear that Loki was flinging at her.  He yanked on his boots as his servants bolted into the room, military officials barrelling in after them.  Everyone was yelling.  She’d always pictured Asgardians as being calm during an attack, but these people were bumbling around like drunkards.  One of the servant’s bowed in front of Loki with a shiny gold object for him, and he sneered at the sight, ripping the thing, which when her vision cleared, she realized was his helmet, from the servant’s hands.  

“I don’t need my godsdamn horns!  Nothing more than ceremonial garb!”

She finished buckling her armor, fumbling more than usual, and made for the door.  Her bow, her quiver and arrows, and her black dagger were, inconveniently, in her chambers.  Just as she reached the exit, a strong arm wrapped across her shoulders from behind, and Loki spun her around, pulling her into a tight hug before kissing her firmly.  All too soon, he pulled away, and she blinked away the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks at the loss.  

“Go to my mother,” he whispered against her cheek. “Use whatever means you must to protect her and my father.”

She nodded and kissed him again, fear coursing through her.  She’d planned to fight next to him.  She’d wanted to charge through the frost giants by his side.  Their shared magic would have been more deadly than Gungnir, but it was his call, and there was no time for an argument.  

“I will,” she promised, squeezing his shoulders, more terrified than she’d ever been in her life.  She couldn’t lose him.

His eyes darted between her eyes and her mouth.  He knew her fears, for they were his, too.

“I will return to you.  You have the trickster’s word.”  Winking, he smirked and planted a final kiss on her lips before running past her and down the corridor.

She stared after him for a moment, listening to his commands for a cavalry charge led by Gylfi, soldiers pouring out from other corridors to follow their king.  He disappeared around the corner, and she steadied herself.  Run, you fool, she screamed at herself mentally before racing in the opposite direction to her chambers.  If she was going to fight, and she most certainly was going to, she needed her weapons.

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~THE CITY LOWLANDS, A MILE OUTSIDE THE PALACE GATES~

It was, much to Thor’s relief, easy to spot his younger brother alongside his newly appointed captain leading the horses that were charging toward the Jotun army.  His green cape was a stark contrast to the yellow clad soldiers trailing closely behind him on horseback.  Thor was both proud and devastated at the sight.  His little brother was nearing the frost giants so fast that Thor had to kick his steed in order to catch up, something he hated doing to the beast.  The thought of losing Loki, of possibly seeing him impaled by a blast of sharp ice made him physically ill.  Holding the reins and Mjolnir, he twisted his head and leaned over the saddle, retching dryly.  Leaning forward on his horse, he encouraged the stallion to run faster, hooves pounding heavily beneath his weight.  

Please be strong, brother, he begged silently.  Eyes wide with hate for the monstrous race that was invading his home, he passed through the wall of horses, vaguely aware of his warrior friends falling back, their horses unable to keep up with his speed.  Fear and guilt engulfed him when he heard Loki cry out to the soldiers, the first blast from Gungir slicing the head of a frost giant clean off.

This was real.  This was a torturously real attack on his home, and his brother was paying the price that Thor should have paid.  He had caused this with his idiotic war mongering trip to Jotunheim after his ruined coronation.  He knew that Loki had always desired the throne, but surely his little brother hadn’t expected to immediately fight a war upon his ascension.  

Thor bared his teeth at the Jotuns that were nearing him, but it wasn’t just an intimidating expression.  In truth it was a smile, a proud smile for the warrior that Loki had become.  For the swift justice he was bringing.  For the courage his brother had to run headfirst into a dangerous battle, not even of his causing, if it meant defending his home.  The overwhelming love Thor felt at that moment for Loki as he pummeled the first giant with Mjolnir gave him more strength than his powerful muscles.  Thor swore a silent oath to himself as he watched his brother struggle against the onslaught of giants surrounding him, blasts from his spear hitting each target with expert precision.  If Loki was killed, Thor would destroy Jotunheim.  By any means necessary.

“LOKI!” he cried out, the hammer destroying Jotuns easily with each swing of his arm.   

After screaming his brother’s name twice more, Loki finally swiveled his dark head, his pale face flushed and gleaming with sweat as he registered that Thor was with him.  Nodding toward the golden prince, Loki reared back when a giant sliced Sinir’s hind leg, the horse neighing from the pain.  Seething, he butted the offending Jotun in the nose with the blunt end of Gungnir, his thighs gripping the saddle with strength he didn’t know he had, and yanked the reins toward Thor.  Loki pushed through the battling armies, continually slicing into giants with his spear.

“Flyt, Sin! Flyt!” he yelled at his injured horse, despite the pain the stallion was no doubt experiencing with each stride, to move faster toward his brother.   

He silently thanked the Norns for Thor.  That damn hammer could bring down the entire Jotun army.  It was the most amazing weapon, as much as the kingly spear Loki wielded.  If only the spear could make him fly.  He finally caught up to Thor and between blows to the giants, he spat his greetings, huffing between the words with each attack.  

“Hello….brother….so….nice….to….see….you.”  

“Indeed!” Thor shouted, smiling wide and nodding as he thrust his fist into an oncoming giant.   

“What….took….you….so….long!” 

Bursts of green light flowing from his fingers, Loki slammed four oncoming giants with his powerful magic in their chests, their bodies flying back from the impact.  A Jotun came at Loki from behind, ice streaming from its fingers and pierced through the weak spot just below the underarm of his golden armor, the brown leather beneath the metal ripping apart.  He cried out as blood poured from the wound, and he put all the strength he had into his arm and elbowed the giant in the jaw.  Yanking on Sinir’s reins, he turned the horse and slung a dagger into the giant’s throat.  

“Loki, NO!”  

Thor’s panicked cry was muffled by the sounds of battle and the blood that was rushing through Loki’s ears.  His dark head fell forward, his body slumping over, and he cringed at the searing pain coursing through his side, gripping the wound just below his left ribs.  He cried out when Thor’s heavy hand landed on his shoulder trying to pull him from his horse, Mjolnir ready to fly them from the battle, but Loki shoved his hand away.

With shallow breaths, Loki spoke through clenched teeth. “I will not….abandon….this fight.”

Thor pummeled an oncoming Jotun in the chest as it nearly crashed on top of Loki who was bent over, the pain becoming more unbearable with each breath.

“Your lung….has been….pierced….Loki.  I am….sure….of it.  I must….get you to….Eir!” he shouted, yanking on his brother’s slumping form just as Loki shot up, his eyes wild, his jaw clenched.

“Sig.” 

He spoke her name so quietly that Thor could barely make out the word.  Rearing back on Sinir, both Loki and his horse cried at the pain their injuries were shooting through them, and Thor yelled at his brother’s back as he continued sending blows to Jotuns.

“What?  Loki?!”   

Loki turned his head to him, fear written across his features. “Finish them!!” he called back to Thor, then faced forward and took off in the direction of the palace yelling at Sinir to run faster.  

Thor watched, momentarily stunned, as the flash of green and gold disappeared from his sight.  Returning his attention to the moment at hand, he continued to wield Mjolnir, finally feeling worthy of its weight.  He refused to allow his brother’s efforts against the Jotun army to go unrequited.

---

Loki would have teleported to Sigyn if he could, but the distance was too great.  As Loki charged through the horses, the dead bodies, the still fighting soldiers, he felt the sting of guilt overtake the sting in his side.  He’d left her alone.  He’d promised he would return, and he was keeping that promise, but she’d made no such promise.  She had told him that she could keep his mother and father safe, but she hadn’t given her word that she would stay alive.  He’d just left her there.  Standing in the doorway.  Alone.  She was a powerful sorceress and very good with both the bow and blade, and clearly, in that moment when the sirens had gone off, he’d trusted her to protect his parents and herself, but he’d been so terribly wrong to leave her.  

She was dying.  He could feel it through the bond.  How could he have left her alone?  He’d known that Laufey had every intention of killing Odin himself and would probably be in the Allfather’s chambers within the hour, and yet he’d ordered Sigyn, the love of his life, to go to those very chambers!  Tears streamed down his sweat drenched face as Sinir finally pounded into the stables.  Jumping from the horse, he barked for the stable hands to see to the stallion’s injuries, and with every ounce of strength he could muster, he willed the magic coursing through his veins to move faster.  Green light swirled around him, and he disappeared from their sight.

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~THE ALLFATHER’S BEDCHAMBERS~

Hissing at the sudden sting just under her ribs, Sigyn dropped her bow and felt for an injury.  When she found none, her eyes went wide with fear.  Oh no—Loki had been wounded.  It was the only explanation for the pain.  There was no blood, and not a soul had come into the chambers and attacked them.  

She didn’t have even two seconds to concern herself with Loki’s well being, however.  Her ears rang suddenly at the deafening sound of the doors bursting open with such force that they came off their hinges and crashed to the floor, and something stabbed her right in the middle of her lower stomach.  Screaming in agony, she clutched her torso, dark red blood streamed from the gaping wound that Laufey had delivered at the moment she’d drawn her dagger instinctively from its holster.  

The Jotun king had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, ice blasting from his hands.  It all happened so quickly.  Frigga yelled and swung Odin’s sword only to be struck violently, her body flying back into the wall.  She was doubled over, clearly in too much pain to defend her sleeping husband.  Angry tears poured down Sigyn’s face, her efforts to stand proving fruitless, as one by one, soldiers ran into the chamber attempting to kill Laufey who was now seated at the foot of Odin’s bed.  He reared back when a sword slashed the dark blue skin of his back and roared, the sound deep and hoarse.  Before the other guards could move in on him, he swept his large arm across them, encasing their bodies in ice.  Another blast from his hand and the door was frozen over.  

Sigyn choked on the blood in her mouth, her heart shattering at the sight of so much death.  She’d failed.  Protect Frigga?  Protect Odin?  She couldn’t even protect herself, for Hel’s sake!  What a pathetic excuse for a warrior.  Gripping the bow she’d dropped, she attempted to reach up for one of the sharp black arrows in her quiver, but a torturous wave of pain rolled over her entire body, her face screwing up at the sensation, and her hand fell.  

Frigga was still crying but had pushed to her feet and was moving in on Laufey.  He turned his head, his hand stretched toward the queen.  Sigyn didn’t think.  It was impossible to think.  Her head was pounding, and her ears were probably bleeding from the sound of the doors not even sixty seconds ago, but her eyes worked well enough.  Loki’s mother was about to die.  The woman who had been his rock, his entire support system.  The woman who had taught him magic.  The woman who had loved Sigyn like her own daughter—that woman was about to die at the hands of the Jotun king.

Absolutely not—Sigyn hadn’t willed it, but black smoke poured from her fingers nonetheless.   All this time she’d been training her magic, learning to control it, to bend it to her will.  Yet here she was, a loose cannon, and for the first time since protecting Nanna ages ago, the rage within her, the slow burn that boiled just below her skin, was going to save someone other than herself.  Theoric’s earlier words echoed in her mind.

”That power could be used for GOOD.”

Laufey bellowed in agony when his body was engulfed by a fire so hot it turned white, and he writhed under the flames, his blue skin charring in the intense heat.  Behind the flames, green light slithered across the floor, and Loki appeared, blood seeping through his armor, Gungnir at the ready.  He didn’t see Sigyn, but his mother was at his feet, clutching his legs, trying to stand, and wrapping a strong arm around her waist, he lifted her, wincing as the muscles in his abdomen rebelled against the effort.  She kissed his cheeks and held him tightly, and he felt as though she might crush him.  

When black mist enveloped the flames surrounding Laufey’s body, Loki looked across his father’s bed.  Spotting Sigyn smiling weakly at him and whispering his name, he tossed his spear and ran to her, Frigga at his side.  He dropped to his knees before her and pulled her limp body into his lap—Oh gods, Sig!  Blood was everywhere.  She was covered in the sticky substance.  Shaking his head, stunned by the entire scene (what had he expected?), he turned to his mother and kissed her cheek quickly.  

“Stay with father.”  

Frigga nodded and rose to her feet.  Turning her head slightly, wincing at the small movement, Sigyn tried to speak.  Loki brought his ear to her mouth to hear the nearly silent words.

“The guards can’t pass through the door,” she whispered, swallowing thickly as her words registered across his face.  

Calling for Frigga to throw him the spear, Loki pointed it at the iced over opening.  He yelled for the guards to move away from the door before the blast struck the ice, and soldiers poured into the room as Loki put an arm under her back and knees.  Hissing as more blood pooled under his ribs, he lifted her and struggled to the door.  A team of healers with mobile healing beds nearly ran them over, their steps halting at the sight of their wounded king and the nearly dead Vanir in his arms.

They went to work instantly.  Pulling Sigyn onto a bed, they ripped at her armor as Eir barked orders.  They tried to move Loki onto one of the beds, but he refused.  Grasping her hand as the team pushed her from the room, he pressed a medicinal cloth into his wound and wiped sweat and tears from his eyes.  She was at least breathing more steadily, the healers magic working tirelessly to mend her body.  Grey green eyes focused on Loki’s face as they came into the corridor, and he gripped her hand harder as she sobbed.   

Death was everywhere.  Soldiers, nobles, servants, frost giants.  Lifeless bodies littered the floor, the tables, the chairs, and sprawled across one of the lavish cushioned benches was the broken and bloodied body of Theoric.  Loki turned away, guilt wreaking havoc on his insides, and he retched as Sigyn’s tormented cries echoed through the hall.

FALLEN CONTINUES IN CHAPTER SEVEN: THE BRIDGE

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 SIX THEME SONG:

“End of Time” by Arc North, Laura Brehm, and Rival

What Readers Have Said

About CH 6 “Death Is Everywhere”

“Good series! I’m eagerly awaiting the next update.”

-The Jingo (The_King_in_White), on CH 6 “Death is Everywhere” , 23 Jun 2017

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