Something Wicked This Way Comes

||12- Dream Walker||

Katalina couldn't feel her body.  She was discorporate in a dream state.

Except she wasn't.  She was in Loki's head, she had to remind herself.  And she needed to focus.  Memories were like liquid, coursing around her like the sea. She was drowning in it.

Katalina honed in, forcing herself to remember where she was. Slowly, fragments of memory flashed in the darkness. At first, they were short, bursts of some sense, all view or experienced as if she was Loki. Her conscience merged with his memories.

She lost herself in the surge.

She felt cold, and then warm. Golden light streaming around her and a clean scent on the air. The light shifted, becoming a figure. Barely a flash, but Katalina saw a golden gown and honey colored hair and soft blue eyes. Her voice was gentle, soft, and welcoming. This was home.

She heard laughter, the smell of summer air, the sound of metal on metal. A feeling like static rippled through her.

A flash of blinding white, then darkness.

The memories grew longer and more vivid.

More dark.

She found herself staring out through Loki's eyes at a frozen wasteland, bitter wind ripped around her but she didn't feel cold. There were others flanking her—her brother, his friends—all juvenile and wishing for a taste of battle, a taste of anything. Recklessness had brought them here, though partly her fault. She felt little—if any—guilt; part of her wondered if that was wrong of her.

But now, it didn't matter. What mattered was getting out of the bloody realm before someone did something stupid. Or irreversible.

The memory shifted, chaos surrounded her. Frost Giants were attacking them, all because of Thor's temper. Adrenaline coursed her system. She fingered her throwing knives; gripping their handles for only fractions of a second before loosing them. A roar of pain came from her target—it did nothing but reassure her that her aim was sound.

A second knife silenced the sound.

Somewhere across the chaos, a voice screamed out.

"Don't let them touch you!"

She grit her teeth and pulled a dagger from her waist.

Another giant approached, out of sight. She heard him, whipping around, but before she could act, his hand clamped down on her forearm.

Sheer panic hit her as she waited for the pain. The bite of cold on her flesh as her armor peeled away from the frost.

It never came.  What did was worse.

A trail of azure to match the Giant's hand spread over her skin.  Quick as lightening it encompassed her wrist.  Fear crept up her spine as her eyes shot to the giant.  Surely this was his doing.

The frost giant's crimson gaze was just as puzzled as he stared down at her.  For once, she felt small.  For once she felt pure terror. 

She arched her dagger wide, slicing at the Giant's throat.  As the giant fell, her arm was released.  And she was shaking.  Ever so slow, the blue faded unto her pale flesh.

Her vision changed. 

She was in was in a chamber, a raging maelstrom of emotions plaguing her.  But over everything, the fear of what she was being to suspect drew her hands towards the casket in front of her.  The hair on the nape of her neck prickled as her fingers laced around the handles and a voice called out from behind her.