Spaces Between

Epilogue

The next several weeks were by far the longest I have ever lived through.

The clean up of debris in the aftermath of the battle was not the worst part. Loki forbade me from the throne room and surrounding hallways the first two days—or at least until they could remove all of the bodies. There were casualties on both sides, though more of Alder's men. No, not men, boys. Teens Alrekr's and my age that were drafted and forced to fight.

I only knew this because Tove had to help with the injured on both sides. With Alder dead, his soldiers surrendered, most just wanting to return home.

I almost collapsed when I saw Tove again. I cried for nearly twenty minutes hugging her. She told me that it was thanks to Tony's doctor friend that she was healed—or at least mostly. She showed me the scar, grimacing as she lifted her tunic. Tove would never tell me that it was hurting her, but I knew it did.

Alrekr was wraith like; slipping between being glued to my side or guarding Tove. The few of Alder's men who weren't children, resented the medical assistance that Thor ordered to be provided. Tove was safe with the other healers, but I knew that Alrekr's thoughts kept flashing back to the memory of Tove's bleeding form in his arms like mine had.

I did what I could to help. I assisted Tove using the limited medical knowledge I had and I shadowed Thor when he went into the surrounding villages.  Alder's influence was felt throughout the kingdom and heartbreaking to see the Asgardians in mourning.

Lady Koa also stayed for the clean up.  Her, her guard, and her strange, blue eyed nephew.  I learned from Alrekr that his name was Kaius and that he was Koa's heir.  I saw little of him.

Addea and Jakob were another story.  Jakob had been injured—badly.  Bad enough that in the spur of the battle, Addea had believed him dead and sought retribution from Nydri being that it was one of his guard that struck him down.  When Eir woke back up, despite warnings for her to rest, Jakob was the first of the injured that she healed.

Then Käro.  I had balled when he limped up to me in the end.  He stayed by my side for three days straight, during this time, I learned what had actually happened with the mark.  They had managed to remove the physical marking and hinder the bond, but they hadn't been able to break it.  I could still feel Käro but faintly, only when we were close, and I still held onto his enhanced senses.

I wasn't allowed to attend my father's trial—and I didn't want too either. 

He disgusted me and when ever I was around him, I felt myself begin to question who I was.  Toxic thoughts would fill my head.  I'm the daughter of a ruthless killer.  Child of a king slayer.  What if that is all I'm destined to be?

But none of that was true. He does not define who I am, no matter what he said to me.

The time I was allowed to see him, before the trial, when he was locked in the dungeons, he threatened both my brother and Fury's lives.  He tried convincing me that it didn't matter what facade I played, I was still his child—like I was his property and I was bound to end up like him.

I wouldn't.  No matter what.  I vowed to never turn out like him.

***

The hallways was were loud with the sounds of voices and boots on marble.  The throne room was cleared, all but discarded weapons and broken stone.  Wanda, Sigyn, and Addea had made a wreck of the pillars and floor with their combined magic.  I spied a few bullet casings lying among the mess from Natasha and Bucky's pistols.

Little markings here and there that I recognized.  The sight made me sick.

I still couldn't walk down the hallway in which Nydri had cornered us.  The ice had been cold enough that it had left a permanent burn on the marble. 

I shook my head, ridding it of that thought.  Turning the corner of the corridor I was in, I made direct eye contact with Loki.  I spun on my heals, hoping he hadn't seen me.

But he had.

"Lorien, talk to me."

I had been avoiding my brother.

Not because I was angry or mad at him. I just couldn't look at him without seeing that ice shard piercing through his chest.  I knew it hadn't been real—but even though I knew it was his illusion, it still felt real.

And Loki noticed—like he notices everything, shame filling me.

"Please," he pleaded.  I looked at the floor, shame filling me.  What did I think I was going to do?  I couldn't ignore him forever.  It was unfair to him.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, wringing my hands.  "I just..."

I trailed off, my breath catching.  "Every time I look at you, I see you dying."

The air went stagnant instantly.  I felt Loki go rigid in his spot.

"Lorien..."

I cut him off, "and I know it was just an illusion.  I'm not mad at you.  It just—it just didn't matter if...if it wasn't real. I...I..."

Loki wrapped his arms around me, drawing me to his chest.

"No, I'm sorry," he breathed out, his voice hard.  "You should have never witnessed that."

He pulled back, barely enough to look me in the face.

"We are safe now, little Soror," he whispered so very quiet, "and I will never allow anything else to interfere with that safety again."

Despite everything that had happened, every time I believed the violence would stop...

I believed him.

And I knew he was right.