Spaces Between

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•Chapter Forty-One•
Everything's Blue
(ASGARD)

I fell asleep. So relieved that my brother was alive–that he was just like me–and that Alrekr was safe too, I drifted off at some point as Loki carried me through the palace.

When I woke up, I was curled up in some sort of arm chair with a fur blanket wrapped around me. It was quiet. Soft voices spoke from somewhere behind the chair. I could recognize some of them—my brother, Thor, Frigga, Lord Malki...

I looked down at my hands. Surprise filled me as I spotted my normal pale skin instead of the blue. My fingers started shaking and I forced them into fists to stop them. Carefully, I pushed myself up and peered over the back of the chair.

They stood across the room, around a small wooden table. Half a dozen book shelves lined the room, all huge volumes that were most likely written in runes. Or Asgardian. Neither I could really read. I focused back on my brother and Thor; both stood shoulder to shoulder, Frigga next to them and then Lord Malki across the table. I spotted Alrekr sat in a tiny alcove next to a bookshelf, wrapped in a blanket of his own. Still shivering as Eir worked to heal the nasty black and blue bruise around his right eye—and the burns on his hands and arms.

On the table in front of them, there were several books scattered across it as well as something that looked like a map lying against the grain. Thor was pointing out places, whispering them to the rest of my family in a hushed voice. Most likely cause they thought I was still asleep.

"Loki?" My voice was raspy, and broke halfway through his name. Regardless, every head in the room turned to look at me, but it was Loki that started. He maneuvered over to my chair and crouched down in front of me again. He reached out, his cold fingers so gently prodding at my bruised cheek. I almost flinched at the sharp pain.

"Who did this?"

I didn't meet his eyes, my lip trembling. 

Loki tilted his head to point himself in my view.  His emerald eyes hardened.  "Lorien...who did this?"

I bit my lip, knowing that if I said his name that it would feel like acid on my tongue.  "Nydri," I finally whispered.

Any light that been in Loki's eyes drained in less than a second.  The look on his face was dark, so dark.  I've never seen him look like this.

He didn't say a word.  No, not at first.  He just lifted his hand back up to my cheek and gently touch my skin.  After a second, I felt the staticky warmth of his magic.  Slowly, the pain in my cheek damped until it was no more.

"Thank you," I murmured.  Loki still didn't say a word.  He kept his jaw locked as he pulled his hand back.

I knew the others were watching us—watching Loki, for his reaction. 

"Loki?" I whispered.  My voice still didn't feel like my own but my brother's eyes flicked back to mine the moment his name left my lips.

"Forgive me," he pursed his lips, "had I not leased my rage I would have most definitely done something that—though I would not regret—would possibly be suicidal."

His eyes started to soften, "I hope you will not look at me with disgust if I admit that plan to do much worse to Nydri if the chance arises.  I had already planned to make him suffer for what he has done, but now that I know he has struck you, his life is more than forfeit."