Sigyn essayed a slight smile, ducking her head. “Sometimes I dream of falling. It’s always dark, but the worst part,” she hesitated, “is the solitude.” She shivered just calling up the memory of that absolute absence. Fear closed its hand around her throat, and involuntarily she gripped Loki’s arm more tightly.
He stopped walking at her words, shocked and ill at ease with his own memories.
*Loki, this is madness…*
The frozen emptiness that had swallowed him whole.
*No, Loki…. no…*
He clenched her hand and looked at her with sympathy. “That is… truly… terrifying. I don’t… I know of no other… ordeal so vile as utter isolation… “
Sigyn stopped with him, turning to look. His face seemed to freeze, as if her words had called up some private helheim, before life returned to those glorious green eyes. “I d-didn’t me—did … ” Sympathy tangled her words, before she managed to spill them out. “Please tell me you speak as a metaphor.”
Both her hands grasped at his. She gazed up into his face. “No one should have to endure that.”
Loki was perplexed at her reaction. A flash of confusion and disbelief crossed his face. Was there truly someone in the nine realms who did not know of the tumultuous, near unforgivable events that had taken place not long ago?
He quickly put up a cracked mask of good humour and smiled weakly.
“Ah, no my dear, but tonight is not the night to talk of such things.” He gave her hand a squeeze to put her mind at ease. He looked around. “Where are your chambers? We should get you tucked away.”
She glanced around as well. “I … I’m actually not sure, from here. I must have walked farther than I realised. I don’t know where I am.” Freeing her hands, she reached out and laid a palm on the wall, frowning gently. “An outlying wing … “
A slight silver mist pooled around her fingertips, curling along the wall and out of sight. She closed her eyes, then laughed slightly. “I really have no idea how I got here.” Looking back at Loki, Sigyn shrugged. “I’m lost.”