~A PRIVATE HEALING ROOM IN THE PALACE~

How could this have happened?  How could he have let it happen?  Why did it have to be her?  Why not him?

Loki, his emerald eyes swollen red with fatigue and glistening with unshed tears, was seated in the plush armchair next to Sigyn’s private healing bed, mulling over the hows, the whys, the why nots.  He didn’t have the energy to attempt to answer those questions.  Every bit of energy he had was focused on Sigyn.  Just … please stay alive.

She looked so small lying there on her back, arms flat at her sides, Eir personally seeing to her critically injured abdomen.  Sighing heavily, he brought her hand to his mouth and placed a firm kiss on her fingers, willing her to wake up.  Ever since they’d been rushed through the main hall strewn with dead and dying people, Sigyn had been asleep.  It was a good thing, he supposed, since the rest would aid in her healing, but it didn’t change the fact that he desperately wanted to see those stormcloud eyes that he loved amidst all this tragedy.

Eir had wanted to put him in a bed, too, saying his ribs needed immediate attention.  Ha!  There was no way in Hel that he would leave Sigyn’s side.  He’d promised himself that he would never leave her again.  The last time he’d left her alone, this had happened.  

Not letting loose his hold on her hand, he allowed another healer to remove his side armor so she could better clean the wound.  There had been no time for an anesthetic, so he’d just had to bear it.  After being told, thankfully, that the ice hadn’t impaled his lung, that it had only cut a small gash an inch in length, they went to work cauterizing the wound.  As they worked, he was vaguely aware of the healers whispering to each other.

“I can hardly believe that ice didn’t injure him more extensively.”

“He must have a tougher skin than most.”

“Tough skin?  That’s putting it lightly.”

“The stab wound in his side was four inches wide when he came in and yet the lung had barely a scratch.”

“His bones took the brunt of the attack.  Two broken.”

“He is freezing.  Get some warming blankets.”

“How is he so cold?  He’s sweating buckets!”

Loki bit down on his hand to keep from screaming ‘STOP!’ at the controlled scorching dragging slowly across the gash.  It only took five seconds to cauterize, but it was agonizing.  They then set his two broken ribs back into place, smearing a salve, some potent combination of plants native to Vanaheim and magic, around the bone.  Again, it was like torture.  It was as though he could feel each cell destroying itself in order to allow new ones to form and fuse the marrow within.  Nimble fingers stitched him up quickly, and he was told that the area would bruise badly and be sensitive, but it would take no more than a week to be fully restored.  

He rolled his eyes—Tremendous.  As though the frost giants would just sit down for seven days before striking again.  Exhausted, he laid his forehead on the cerulean sheets.  He would be utterly useless in battle in his current state.  Thor and the others would have to manage the giants without him for the time being.  Speak of the devil…

Heavy footfalls sounded behind Loki, pulling him from the sleep that his body was begging for.  Knowing who his visitor was, Loki didn’t look up.  His brother slowed his steps as he approached the bed.  Thor’s gruff voice, weary from battle, broke the silence. 

“How is she?”

It was Eir who answered. “She was hemorrhaging, but we stopped it.  She is at a disadvantage due to her Vanir heritage.  She is healing properly, just more slowly than we do.”  

Frowning, Thor nodded. “Brother?” he asked.

Annoyed and utterly spent, Loki mumbled into the sheets that he’d buried his face in. “What.”  

Thor knelt beside the young king and adjusted the blankets that had been draped over him. “I imagined I would find you in a bed as well, Loki.  What of your injury?  Did it puncture your lung as I’d suspected?”  

“More like a scratch,” Loki said, raising his head just enough to rest his chin on the mattress.  Wincing at the sharp pain that shot down his side at the slight movement, he hissed, “Damn giant broke two of my ribs though.”

Pressing his lips together, Thor stood. “Is the pain very great?”  

Loki glared up at his big brother before rolling his eyes.  He didn’t have the energy to make sarcastic quips right now.  The simple truth was all he could manage.

“Yes, actually.”

Nodding, Thor left the room, and Loki stared after him momentarily, surprised that his brother didn’t have more to say.  He quickly returned his gaze to Sigyn though.  The healers had removed her armor and wrapped her in a thin soft blue robe.  Her hair had been freed from its pins and brushed.  They’d washed her face, neck, chest, and arms clean of blood, sweat, and ash.  Her features were relaxed and as beautiful as ever.  

“I’ve brought Sif to look after your Sigyn.  You need to sleep brother.  Not here.  In your bedchambers.”

Thor’s voice startled him, and without thinking, Loki swiveled his body to glare at him, his face screwing up at the sharp pain.  Loki stared daggers at the black haired woman who stood behind Thor.  

“Surely you jest,” he said through his teeth.

Stepping forward, Sif walked to the other side of Sigyn’s bed and pulled up a chair.  “It is no jest, Loki.  I have been watching over Jane, and now that she is in stable condition, I will do the same for Sigyn.  It is the least I can do for the woman who killed Laufey and saved your parents’ lives,” Sif said in earnest, giving him a pointed look at the mention of his true father.

Eyeing the war goddess, Loki smirked, completely humorless. “Changed your stripes, have you now, Sif?  Looking after Thor’s little human companion?  And now my Sig?” Losing the bite in his tone, choking on her name, his eyes darted to Sigyn’s face.  Fighting to keep his lip from trembling, tears in his eyes, he looked back to the war goddess, sorrow etched into his features. “You might consider lowering the price for your forgiveness.”

Guilt wreaking havoc on her insides, Sif struggled to keep her expression calm. “Consider this a peace offering, Loki,” she paused, considering her next words. “I truly amsorry.”

Unwilling to argue with Sif, and somewhat moved by her genuine apology, Loki hung his head.

“Come, Brother,” Thor said stepping around the bed to help Loki to his feet. “Let us get you to your room.”  

Loki draped his arm across Thor’s shoulders and shot one more look at Sigyn’s sleeping form.  He blew out a deep breath as his brother’s arm wrapped around his waist, pain shooting across his torso from the sudden and too tight contact.  He looked to Thor then.

“Was the day ours?” Loki had expected an immediate response.  An affirmative nod, at least.  

Instead, Thor frowned, shaking his head. “We counted their dead and took the rest to the dungeons, but the numbers didn’t add up.  A thousand, at least, must have retreated unbeknownst to us.  Some of Gylfi’s men said they’d run back to the forest, but our search through the trees proved fruitless.  They’d iced over their tracks, and the hounds couldn’t pick up a scent.” Spying two healers in the hall, Thor beckoned them with two fingers. 

“Pain enders for the king,” he ordered them. “Now.”

Loki swallowed the shot of clear liquid they gave him in one gulp, relaxing as warmth started in his stomach and spread out in all directions, the stabbing pain in his ribs disappearing.  He hadn’t ever taken an ender when he really needed one, and now that he had, he was angry that no one had offered him one.  Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and released his hold on Thor, standing up completely straight now that he could.  He turned on his heel, glaring at the healers and spoke through clenched teeth.  

“Why was I not supplied with that vial as soon as I was stitched up?  No—before I was examined at all!”  

He rolled his eyes at their stammering before waving them off.  Chastising healers was hardly worth his time.  The pain in his side was gone.  Now he could focus on the matter at hand.  Thor was looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer.  Jaw set, Loki scratched the back of his head, pacing.

“I imagine whatever portal they found was also their point of entry when they snuck through to get the casket on your coronation day,” he said, snapping his fingers.  

Not a hint of guilt crept into Loki’s mind as he glazed over the finer details of the story.  Everything he’d spoken was technically true.  What purpose would telling Thor that he’d been a slight accomplice have served?  

“If what you say is accurate, Thor, that the Jotuns escaped, then there is a thousand strong Jotun army regrouping right now.  They could come back through at any moment.  They must be positively desperate to retrieve that casket.  With their king dead, they’ll want it more than ever.”

Thor rubbed his temples and asked, “So what do we do then?  Send a regiment to find and defend this secret doorway?” Scowling, Thor threw up his hands.  All this was his fault.  If only he hadn’t gone to Jotunheim that day.  He’d been an absolute fool.

Loki shook his head vigorously. “No no no no.  The Jotuns would only continue to attack the portal until our men were too exhausted to fight.  The peace treaty is broken.  Their king is dead.  They know they have a fighting chance to have their power restored if they attack now.  They have nothing to lose.  We have to end them, Thor.  For good.”  

Loki gave his brother a pointed look, and Thor shut his eyes and sighed, furrowing his brow.  

“You mean to open the bifrost on them,” Thor said, gulping audibly before continuing, “and leave it open until its power destroys Jotunheim.”

“It is the only way, brother,” Loki said with a nod.  Yes, he would obliterate the frost giants using the bridge, and with it, his true heritage.

Frowning, Thor shook his head, confused. “And what of the portal?  What if they charge through and retrieve the casket?  What will destroying Jotunheim matter then?”

Loki stopped his pacing and rubbed his chin.  The answer came to him, and he smiled, clapping his hands together once.

“I will cast a shield over the forest portal.  You must go to Heimdall.  Have him open the bridge and keep it open until that frozen rock is done for.”  

“But how do you know where to find it?” Thor asked, one eyebrow raised. “I told you there were no tracks.”  

Loki sucked in his cheeks. Shit—he’d walked right into that one.  Recovering from his misstep quickly, Loki smirked.

“I may be a wise old king now, brother, but I’m still the God of Mischief.  I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve yet.”

He relaxed as a smile tugged at the corners of Thor’s lips.  Thor chuckled, easily charmed by his brother’s playfulness, and seemingly satisfied with the vague and cryptic answer, he nodded.  

“How is the pain?” Thor asked, eyeing Loki’s ripped armor. “Are you sure you have the strength to do this?  Perhaps I should go with you.”  

He grabbed Loki’s forearm, squeezing a bit too tightly.  Rolling his eyes, Loki shrugged out his grasp.  As though he needed the brute in order to perform a simple spell.

“You think too little of me, brother.  I’ll be fine.  Now hurry!”

With a curt nod, Thor took off, hammer thrust forward, flying to the bifrost observatory, and Loki blew out a heavy breath.  Determined to put an end to this, his magic raced through his veins, and closing his eyes, he disappeared from the healing hall and reappeared in the stables.  Sinir stomped his front hooves at the sight of his master before charging toward him.  Gripping the horse’s mane and putting his boot in the stirrup as he ran, Loki threw his other leg over the saddle and raced to the forest.

---

~THE JOTUNHEIM PORTAL, SILVER FOREST~

Wincing at the pain seeping back into his ribs, Loki crouched low at the base of the Jotunheim portal in the forest.  Eyes shut tight, the ancient words of shield enchantment tumbled from his lips as surely as the green light from his fingers.  Gods, this was so frustrating.  If only he could have cast a death spell over the portal. 

Not possible—it would have taken too much of what little time he had, and how could he possibly cast a Jotun death spell if he was himself Jotun?  It might not have killed him, since he was almost certain that he was only half-Jotun, but he was hardly willing to risk it.

No, sadly, the shield over the stone doorway would have to do for now.  It wouldn’t hold the frost giants back permanently, but it would hold long enough for him to destroy their realm with the bridge.  Even if the Jotuns managed to break through the shield then, they would have nowhere to retreat to.  Gylfi’s regiment was posted just outside the edge of the forest and would kill any who managed to get that far.  

It would all be over soon.  All this Jotunheim nonsense would be over.  He would be a hero.  He would finally have the respect that he deserved.  No longer would he play second fiddle to Thor.  His true heritage would be ancient history and of no consequence.   And most importantly, he would make Sigyn his queen when she was healed.  If she was healed.  He sniffed back a choked cry—Please, Sig.

A decidedly unpleasant thought crossed his mind then.  What if Odin awoke and gave Thor the throne?  What then?  His big brother may have won back his powers, he may have become worthy of that damn hammer once more (according to the Allfather, at least), but that didn’t make him a capable king.  Loki had no desire to simply advise his brother.  He didn’t want to be the neck who turned the head.  The head received the accolades.  The head had the power.  The head had the final say.  Being king was exhausting, of course, but Loki would adjust to the workload.  And look at what he was already accomplishing!  

He was ending the war that Thor had started.  Laufey was dead.  Surely defeating the frost giants and bringing peace back to the realms was of higher worth than just sacrificing his life for one tiny human!  

The shield now in place, shimmering green and gold over the portal, he jumped back on Sinir and yanked him toward the bifrost.

---

~THE OBSERVATORY~

What the fuck—Galloping past his brother into the golden observatory, Loki barked at Heimdall, “Why is the bridge closed still?!”  

Thor glared at the gatekeeper. “He said he would only take orders from you directly!  I am still a prince of Asgard, Heimdall, and I deserve yourー”

“Enough!” Loki growled, cutting him off. “There is no time for your mewling, Thor!” He ignored the scowl on his brother’s face and turned to Heimdall.  

“Open the bridge on Jotunheim,” Loki ordered him, “and keep it open until that realm is no more.”

Nodding in obedience, Heimdall thrust the sword down into the stone rudder, and the walls spun slowly, the golden gears of the observatory roaring to life.  Picking up speed, the walls blurred around them, the blazing bridge bursting open, beams of light blasting from the gateway.  

That was when they heard the sirens.  Loki didn’t see it.  None of them did.  Sinir reared back as a frost giant pounded into Loki from behind, and falling from the horse, he landed on his back.  Crying out as his freshly stitched wound ripped open, he rolled sideways, barely avoiding the jagged ice of the attacking Jotun.  Thor slammed giant after giant with the hammer.  It felt like a hundred frost giants swarmed into the observatory within the span of two seconds.  With a sweep of its huge arm, a giant struck Heimdall, and the blow sent him flying back, his now unconscious body knocking the sword in the rudder, an audible click echoing menacingly as it twisted one notch to the left.

“NO!!”  Thor and Loki shouted in unison.

The walls came to a sudden stop and began spinning in the opposite direction, and rather than feeling the gravity pulling from the observatory, they felt the rush of air coming at them.  The bridge was in reverse, now pulling from Jotunheim.  Jotuns poured into the observatory through the beam of light while those who had clearly broken through the forest portal continued to surge from the other side.  The brothers were trapped.  

Two men against hundreds of frost giants, Loki panicked silently.

“Ice the rudder!” The roar of the Jotun commander rose above the cacophony.

Gripping the sword, still locked in the rudder, a giant froze it in place.  Eyes blown wide, Loki’s jaw dropped, genuinely terrified at the sight.  There was no closing the bridge now.  No stopping them.  Once again, Sigyn’s fire magic would have proven useful.  His sorceress lover would have melted the ice and set the giants on fire with barely a thought.  He needed her but she was lying on a healing bed, unconscious, far from the bridge.  No, he and Thor were woefully on their own.  

Setting his jaw, he sent a burst of magic into three giants barreling toward him, the green light blasting into their chests, their huge bodies flying back into the spinning walls. The brothers fought with vigor, adrenaline pumping through their veins.  No more than ten seconds had passed since the first hit, but it felt as though they’d been fighting for an hour at least.  Loki lost count of the limbs and heads he’d sliced off with Gungnir, twisting his body to face each attacker, despite his ribs screaming at him to stop.  

He had to get out of the observatory.  There was no way that he and Thor could fight them alone.  Where the fuck was Gylfi’s regiment?!  Had the giants just barreled over them?!  How could this be happening?!

“THOR!!” He cried out as he cast ten illusions of himself scattered throughout the observatory, confusing the giants, their attacks now aimed at the fakes.  Loki ducked, just barely missing an ice dagger to his throat. “Get us out of here!”  

Remaining silent save for angry grunts and yells, Thor turned at the sound of his name just as sharp ice pierced Loki’s thigh, his agonized scream echoing in the battlefield that was the observatory.   

“LOKI!!” Thor yelled, fear gripping him at the sight of his younger brother falling to the ground.

---

~SIGYN’S HEALING ROOM~

Blaring sirens reverberated through her private healing room, and covered in a cold sweat, Sigyn shot up from the healing bed, shaking and gasping for breath.  

“Wha…?”  Sif said, confused as she jarred awake.  She’d been sleeping at the foot of Sigyn’s bed.  She rushed to Sigyn’s side, trying to calm her to no avail, and called for Eir.

It wasn’t the sirens that had woken Sigyn.  Painーtorturous painーhad pulled her from deep dreamless sleep.  Lifting her arm, wincing at the effort, she looked down at her side.  She felt as though the skin across her ribs had ripped open.  Every muscle in her body burned as though she’d been sparring for hours, and a stabbing sensation was shooting down her thigh.  Crying, she clawed at the throbbing limb, and despite the agony, she pushed herself from the bed, her wretched sobs nearly as loud as the sirens.  

“Sif…need…my armor!”  she gasped, choking on her words, hissing as she pulled her thin and useless robe off.

Sif grabbed the armor draped across the chair at the window and helped her into the still bloodied and somewhat shredded material.  Eir, along with a team of healers, dashed into the room with pain enders and checked the stitches in her stomach.  The excruciating pain subsided as the enders surged through her veins, and grabbing Sif, she ran through the door ignoring the protesting cries of the healers.

“Loki and Thor,” Sigyn croaked, trying to catch her breath, willing her legs to run through the palace, “are on the bifrost.  Loki….is injured.  I can feel it.”  Fire coursed through her veins, her magic pushing her forward when her muscles begged to stop.  Loki had saved her life repeatedly.  It was high time that she saved his.

“The Hawks!” Sif, struggling to keep up with the faster Vanir, pointed at Gylfi’s regiment chasing a few hundred Jotuns running to the bridge.

The women stared wide eyed as they ran.  Frost giants were also coming through the bifrost, it’s blazing light shooting into the observatory.  She saw a flash of green accompanied by a fiery blast of light, her heart stopping in terror at the sight.  Loki and Thor were surrounded—Oh dear gods, NO!

Seething, she ran faster, and bursting through the gates, running for what felt like hours, they finally caught up to the Hawks at the edge of the bridge.  Murder in her blackened eyes, she let go of the control she’d been using for two months to keep her dangerous magic in check.  Nostrils flared, smoke pooled at her feet and seeped from her fingers.  She was absolutely going to roast those giants.

---

~THE BRIDGE~

Loki had been stabbed not once, but twice in the same thigh, and it was taking everything in him to stay on his feet as Thor pummeled through the twenty Jotuns that stood between them.  Grabbing hold of his big brother, Loki breathed a shallow sigh of relief as Thor flew them out of the observatory, landing them just in front of what was left of Gylfi’s regiment who had finally made it to the bridge.  A part of him, the weaker part, wished that Thor would have taken him back to Sigyn, but he was no coward.  He wouldn’t run from this fight. 

Yanking Gylfi by his gold cape, nearly doubling over in agony, Loki hissed, “What the Hel happened?!  How did they get past you?!  You are Crimson Hawks!  The fiercest warriors in all of Asgard!  And you let them just…”  his words trailed off at the sight of twenty or so giants running for the palace. “The casket!  Send a platoon after them!”  He yelled, pointing at them.

Nodding, the captain turned and barked the order before answering. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty!  They came in waves, and after each wave, they iced the ground behind them!  Our horses kept slipping!  We had to abandon them and run on foot!  We would have used the gunships if we’d had any pilots still alive!”

Jaw set, Loki fought the urge to roll his eyes.  What had the captain expected?  Had he thought the giants would just walk up to them and surrender?  There was no time and no need for a lecture or an argument as Jotuns continued to flood the bridge.  Was their entire realm charging into Asgard?!  For Hel’s sake, if only Heimdall would have followed the order from Thor rather than waiting for a direct command from him!  What precious time had been lost?  Twenty minutes?  Jotunheim could have been ripped apart in that amount of time!  The portal shield could have actually worked!  His body shook with a toruturous combination of fear and anger.  They were all going to die.

He pressed his lips together, so no one would see how badly the bottom one was trembling—Keep. Fighting.

Ramming the blunt end of Gungnir into the bridge, he made the silent call to the destroyer to defend the vault.  Hopefully, the Jotuns headed for the casket wouldn’t make it that far.  Hopefully, the hawk platoon would kill them before they could breach the palace walls.  He refused to think that his mother could still be killed after all she’d been through.  

And Sigyn!ーoh gods, Sigyn!

He shunned the thought of his would be queen lying in a pool of her own blood.  Sif would protect her.  Wouldn’t she?  She’d said she would. He hoped she would keep her word.  He absolutely would not lose Sigyn.  But what could he do?  They couldn’t close the bridge!  Every time he’d attempted to melt the ice encased sword in the rudder with a hot blast from Gungnir, the giants had refrozen it!

He cursed under his breath as the Jotuns who had been running toward the observatory to take down the king and his brother turned around and charged back toward them.  The well trained Hawks were finally fighting like the remarkable warriors that they were, but the frost giants were too many.  Loki continued his seemingly neverending plight of impaling and beheading and shooting bursts of magic from his hands and casting illusions, exhausting every bit of strength he had, and just when he thought he would succumb to fatigue and his agonizing injuries, he felt her.

Intense heat sent an overwhelmingly euphoric sensation through his overtaxed muscles.  His ribs, his lung, the gash in his side, the stab wounds in his thigh, the utter torment of it all faded in an instant.  Searching for her smaller frame amidst the sea of giants, dodging attacks from every side, he spotted her easily, her telltale black smoke swirling around her.  Frost giants went up in flames, their deafening shrieks filling the atmosphere, with every step she took.  They couldn’t even touch her.  It was the most breathtaking display of power he’d ever seen.  She didn’t have to do anything!  The magic was just flowing out of her effortlessly.  

Her power became his, the heat of her magic now in his bones, giving him the strength to keep fighting, and he ran after her, blasts of green light killing each Jotun who stood between them.  The number of frost giants swarming around him was staggering.  He lost his balance momentarily, nearly falling to the ground, when the bridge shook beneath his feet.  Was their weight so great that it could do that?  How was that even possible?  He’d thought the bridge was an immovable structure!  Then it happened again.  And again.  And again.  

Boom.  

Boom.  

Boom.  

It felt like an earthquake, powerful aftershocks rippling over and over under his feet as he struggled through the battling armies to reach her.  What the Hel was happening.  Whatーwere they all jumping up and down at once?!  It was absurd and terrifying.  Was the bridge going to break and send them crashing into the sea?!  It continued trembling beneath him as he finally caught up to her, keeping just enough distance so that he wouldn’t go up in flames with the giants.

“SIGYN!”  

Hearing her name on the lips of her favorite voice, she turned to see Loki, his soldiers battling with him not ten yards from her.  Her fiery rage halted briefly, the smoke ceasing, and a Jotun grabbed her from behind.  It was agonizing, and her resulting scream was louder and more shrill than any sound she’d ever made.

“PLEASE!”

Her skin blackened beneath its touch, seering frostbite covering the exposed flesh of her arms through the weak spots in her armor.  Still shrieking in anguish against the giant, she thrashed and kicked wildly.  Panic started to set in the longer she struggled against the Jotun.  She couldn’t set the creature on fire because it was wrapped around her, absolutely crushing her.  

Eyes on her, Loki roared, “SIG!”

His voice rose above the battle.  He was close, but not close enough to free her of the tightening arms around her body.  There were two more giants to get through until he could rip apart the Jotun that was killing her.  Just two moreーcome ON!

His tormented cry for her broke through her panic, and shaking her head, gathering her wits, teeth clenched, she grabbed the black dagger from her thigh holster and thrust the blade into the giant’s side.  Howling in pain, it released its hold, and spinning to face it, she stabbed it through its temples.  When Loki’s arms came around her waist suddenly, she cried out, the wound in her stomach sending shooting pain in all directions.  Everything blurred for a second.  

Those beautiful emerald eyes piercing her own.  That mischievous (and ridiculously out of place) smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.  He was there.  He was alive.  They hadn’t killed him.  She wanted to kiss him, to throw her arms around him and bury her face in his hair, but there were still Jotuns (hundreds of them!) to kill.  Reality was a terrible thing.  Nodding once at each other, they spun around, now back to back.  Gungnir in his hands, her dagger at the ready, black smoke and green light swirled around them.  They could end this.  They would end this.  A flash of red, accompanied by the hollow heavy sound of Mjolnir, and the bridge convulsing under her feet pulled her mind from the fight.  

One boom.  

Two.  

Three.  

Each tremor building in strength steadily, she scanned the battling bodies for the source, and seeing the thunder god pounding the bridge with the hammer, she gaped. That’s what had been shaking the bridge?!  It had been Thor?!  What was he doing?!  The Hawks’ strength had combined with their magic to give them the edge, and the giants’ numbers had been dwindling.  Asgard actually stood a chance to win this battle (a good chance) and yet Thor was going to break the bridge—He was going to break the fucking bridge.  Loki had seen it, too, and throwing each other pointed looks, the pair charged toward the golden prince, shouting for him to stop.  Either Thor didn’t hear them, or he was blatantly ignoring them.

One final pound of the hammer…

BOOM…

and the bridge broke.  

The explosion sent them two hundred yards into the atmosphere, shards of jagged prismatic rainbow bridge slicing through the skin of their cheeks, limbs, and torsos.  Their ears bled from the ultrasonic boom as the observatory caved in on itself before falling over the edge of the Eternal Sea.  Everything moved in slow motion then.

She and Loki were falling, their backs to the space below them.  Her stomach now in her throat, she choked, unable to breathe from the pressure.  Loki was so close to her.  If she had reached out, if she’d thought to, if she’d been able to think anything other than ‘oh gods, we’re going to die,’ she might have been able to grab his hand.  Frost giants and Hawks alike had been tossed as though they weighed no more than dried leaves into the deep dark abyss of space.  

Crying out in anguish (something had to have broken!) she caught the spearhead of Gungnir just as she crashed onto the edge of the shattered bridge.  Eyes struggling to focus, she saw Loki, hanging below, desperately clinging to the other end of the spear, knuckles white, blood seeping from deep cuts in his face, watery eyes squinting.  He was mouthing her name, fear rolling off him in waves.

Barely breathing, she gripped the spear tighter and pleaded,“Pull….up….”  

It was only a whisper.  Her voice had been spent on screaming.  She’d screamed enough in one day to last a lifetime.  No—Longer than a lifetime.  Her screams could have spanned the length of eternity.  She never wanted to make the wretched sound again.  Holding on to Gungnir with all the strength left in her wounded and exhausted body, she tried to scoot back further on the bridge.  If she could pull the spear back, and if he could just hold on, then she could drag him onto the bridge.  Then they could go to Eir.  Everything would be fine then.  They’d live to fight another day.

Die another day.

“Don’t let go, Loki….hold on.”  

She looked around desperately.  She needed help.  He was too heavy.  She couldn’t do this alone.  Below her, she saw his legs kicking as he tried to use the momentum to pull up.  The movement only yanked her further down.  

Dear gods, no!!—she wasn’t going to be able to save him.  

“Help!  Someone please!  Help us!”  

Her too weak screams fell on deaf ears.  Only corpses littered the bridge as far as she could see.  Where was Fenrir?!  Had he been killed at some point during the battle in the palace unbeknownst to her?  Or Sinir?  Either beast could have pulled her back, Loki with her!  Or Thor?!  Where was that fucking blond brute?!  That bastard had done this!  It was his fault!  Every single moment of this vile day had been his doing, and he needed to fix it!  If only he would fly by and grab his brother before it was too late!  

Face screwing up in pain, Loki clenched his teeth, trying to move one hand over the other and climb the two feet (just two godsdamn feet!) of spear that stood between him and his salvation.  But the muscles in his arms were spent.  He’d never felt the weight of his own body to this extent.  His injuries were too great.  He shook his head, tears spilling down his cheeks.  This is it, he thought as his eyes fixed on hers.  He couldn’t do it….and she couldn’t do it for him.

“Please, Loki….don’t let go, love….”   It was barely a whisper, her lip trembling as she met his hopeless gaze.  He was going to fall, and there was nothing she could do.  He was slipping.  Inch by cruel inch.  His silent words echoed in her thoughts as his grip failed.

I love you.   

In that moment, her entire world shattered around her.  Everything came crashing down as each second that she’d spent with him flashed in front of her.   

The eyes she’d seen in her dreams in Vanaheim.  Their first meeting in the throne room.  The night meal when he’d told her she was no match for him.  The sight of him standing, heartbroken, in the shattered library window.  The fight with Sif in the arena.  The way he’d defended her to Odin.  Saving her from rock trolls in Niðavellir.  Seeing Sif’s new hair fanned across his fingers in Eitri’s dungeon.  The all too brief first kiss before Odin’s ridiculous ‘no touching’ sentence.  The night they’d finally slept together.  And every time after.  Magic lessons in the snow.  Riding with him on Sinir.  Laughing and tipsy at night meal.  When he’d confronted Theoric in the library.  Dancing at the ball.  Attacking him in his chambers, her anger melting his chandelier.  Him standing on the steps at the disastrous coronation and finding her in the queen’s chambers after.  When he’d struck Thor because he’d called her his ‘pet.’  Comforting him after he’d discovered his true parentage.  Watching Theoric hand Gungnir to him.  When he’d appeared at the top of the cliff in Vanaheim, trying to save her from the fall that would kill her.  Waking in his arms after he’d brought her back from Helheim.  When he’d finally told her that he loved her.  The moment he’d asked her to be his queen.  Seeing his face over the flames in Odin’s chambers after she’d killed Laufey and saved Frigga.  Fighting back to back with him on the bridge.  

And this.  

This horrifying image of him hanging weakly from his kingly spear, his body bleeding and broken, his face stained with sweat and tears and dried blood.  This would be the last time she saw him.  She found her voice then, the force of her tormented scream burning her chest, her hand reaching for him.

“LOKI!!!!”  

Sobbing, she watched, utterly devastated, as he fell from her, arms stretched up toward her, his body fading from her sight, becoming smaller and smaller until the blackness of space overtook him.  She couldn’t close her eyes.  She wouldn’t.  Staring into the dark that had swallowed him whole, she shook uncontrollably.  She would never see him again.  Never hear his voice again.  Never touch him again.  The great love of her immortal life had died right before her eyes.  Her Loki was dead because she’d been too weak to save him.  Unable to move, she listened to the deafening roar of the Eternal Sea falling, just as Loki had, over the edge of the realm and into darkness.

FALLEN CONTINUES IN CHAPTER EIGHT: THE DESERT

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 SEVEN THEME SONG:

“This Place Was a Shelter” by Olafur Arnalds

What Readers Have Said

About CH 7 “The Bridge”

“Beautifully sad. Great work!”

-WeepingMoon, on CH 7 “The Bridge”, 28 Jun 2017 (AO3)

“Oh god. In Loki fics I always know that he has to die at least twice but it never gets easier. Keep up the fabulous work.”

-RomanticObsession, on CH 7 “The Bridge”, 28 Jun 2017 (AO3)

“So I am reading the series again, this time with the music playing while I read. It enhances every emotion and they are all beautiful selections! Man, this one though, this one is my favorite. Took me three tries to read because as soon as the song started I would begin crying. And not weeping, I am talking full on sobbing, ugly crying. It is just amazing!”

-Mischief76, on CH 7 “The Bridge”, 14 Oct 2019 (AO3 2^nd reading review)

“Curls up sobbing. Come to think of it, Thor is pretty damn lucky Sig didn’t roast him like a marshmallow.”

-Ferbette, on CH 7 “The Bridge”, 12 Jan 2021 (AO3 2^nd reading review)

“SHE’S NEVER GOING TO FORGIVE HERSELF!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭”

-Harrypotterfreakie, on CH 7 “The Bridge”, 26 Aug 2021 (AO3)

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