Whispering voices awoke Sigyn from a restless sleep. She groaned against the pain in her body. Her hands went up to her belly, wanting to bid her daughter good morning, as she always did. Yet her abdomen no longer had that protruding curve she'd grown so accustomed to. 

Wh-What's happened? Where...?

Sigyn sat up with a jolt as she remembered. Mephisto, returning Loki's soul, the water turning red at her feet... Her baby!

"No, no." She wildly looked about her, trying to find her daughter. "Where is she? Where is my baby?"

Two hands gripped her shoulders. Dainty feminine hands belonging to the silver-haired Elf Queen. "Sigyn, easy, do not strain yourself. You need your rest. Come, lie down."

She tried to push Sigyn back on the bed, but she wouldn't budge and gripped Aelsa's wrists. "You were there; you know what happened. Aelsa, tell me where my baby is. Aelsa, please!"

Another pair of hands took hold of Sigyn from behind. They restrained her, giving Aelsa the chance to pry herself free. Sigyn turned, looking straight into Frigga's sorrowful eyes. 

"My dear," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

A haze fell over Sigyn. It couldn't be true. She'd been rushed to the healers; she'd delivered her baby! Her daughter had to be here! 
Yet with every second that passed, Sigyn realised she wasn't. There'd been no cries. Not from her baby, anyway. Only her own. And... Loki's. She remembered how he'd held her. Remembered his tears.  

"No," she whispered and shook her head in disbelief. "No, i-it cannot be."

But Frigga's own grief was written in her expression. She tried to hold Sigyn close, but was pushed away. Sigyn stumbled from her bed, forcing her way past Aelsa. Her knees buckled, and she fell to the ground. The Elf Queen was at her side in mere seconds, but she slapped her hands away. "No, let me go! I need my baby!"

The door slammed open. Sigyn raised her head. Tears fell from her eyes as Loki rushed toward her. She reached for him. "Loki, they... they won't tell me where she is. They won't give her to me."

He dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around her. In a broken voice, he said, "Sigyn, don't, I beg of you."

She peered over his shoulder. Rúna stood on the threshold. Light shone from behind her, but Sigyn could still discern a little bundle in her arms. She struggled at the sight, but her husband held her too tightly. It was impossible to move. 

"Loki, let go," she demanded.

"Sigyn, please..."

"No, let me go! I need my baby! Please, give me my baby!"

"Rúna, go, now!"

"NO! Rúna, bring her to me, please!"

The handmaiden was swept away by Fandrall before she could set one foot into the healing room. Sigyn pleaded as she cried and thrashed against Loki's body. "NO! RÚNA! Loki, please, let me have my baby! You have to give her to me! You have to!"

"Sigyn... s-stop..."

"GIVE ME MY BABY!"

Loki's hold weakened. Sigyn believed he was finally allowing her to go after Rúna and put a hand on his chest so she could shove him off. That's when she felt his heartbeat. She froze. "Loki, your heart... Wh-Why is it...?"

He slumped forward into her arms.

"Loki, no!" Sigyn laid him down on the ground. His skin turned ashen, and his chest was barely rising anymore. "No, no, you cannot do this! You cannot die again! LOKI, DAMN YOU, NO!"

***

Loki's desperation to wait for Sigyn to wake and make sure his daughter was taken care of kept him going, but his wounds were far too severe. He collapsed and would not wake. He had been dealt an immense blow to his mind, body, and heart by an enemy he'd believed defeated. The terrors of having his soul ripped from him and claimed by Mephisto lingered. His magic was crippled, fragmented, even. The healers didn't dare restore it for fear of a seizure. The loss of his child, his wife's misery, and then, of course, the final straw — the betrayal of his brothers — completely tore Loki apart.
After Loki succumbed, Queen Aelsa insisted on staying with Sigyn, fearing her emotions would wreak havoc with her fire. It was a little short of a miracle they hadn't yet after returning so abruptly.
Worried that Sigyn would still fall prey to the all-consuming thought of saving what could no longer be saved, they finally allowed her to say goodbye to the baby she carried for almost nine months. But she refused to give her up again, clutching her little girl to her bosom. When they finally took the child from her, she wept uncontrollably. Eventually, Frigga and the healers were forced to put her under heavy sedation.

The Allfather withheld nothing from his people. He made sure everyone knew of the tragedy that had struck the royal family and who stood at the heart of it. It was a terrible shock to learn that, for once, Loki didn't stand as the guilty party but that it was the Crown Prince and the princeling who were to blame. None could scarcely believe it. 
Every single Asgardian agreed on one thing, though — this could never have been the Trickster's doing. Opinions on the second son of Odin varied in each household, yet all were assured Loki wouldn't do anything to inflict harm on himself or cause the stillbirth of his own child. Whether said child had been conceived out of magic or love no longer mattered, either. They all saw the sorrow. They all heard the cries. Not even Loki could feign such sorrow. 

The baby was delivered to the ancestors the following day at dusk. Her little body was carefully prepared and blessed by Frigga and her two sister Queens, and sent off by Odin himself. Björn and Rúna stood in place of Loki and Sigyn, since neither was fit to come. They made sure the girl's spirit was welcomed in Valhalla, asking to be safeguarded by the one person in Sigyn's family who would care for it as if it were his own — the brother who gave his life for her, Aeric. 
All of Asgard attended this farewell. All except for the disgraced Princes. Baldur didn't even try to leave the confines of his chamber. The torture his body and mind had undergone had shaken him. He now grasped what dreadful consequences rash decisions taken in hubris could hold. It was a lesson long overdue. It was the lesson Thor should have considered before going on this fool's quest. Neither wanted to grieve their brother and sister any further should they learn they attended their daughter's funeral. Nor did they bear how the people shunned and accused them. 

***

Frigga gently ran her fingers through Loki's hair, marvelling at its enduring softness, reminiscent of his childhood. Once, she would do this nightly before he declared himself too old for such comforts as Thor had, but Loki had never voiced such thoughts. Over time, she reserved this gesture for moments when he was unwell, convinced he had outgrown it. Yet seeing him now, pale and fragile, she couldn't deny he was still her precious boy.
The healers had done everything they could in the past three days, as had Frigga with her sister Queens, but Loki remained trapped in his slumber. The wound in his chest was healed, and from what she sensed, his magic was almost fully restored. Yet the distress to his soul and heart remained. None could heal that. Except maybe —

"Sigyn, no, stop!"

Frigga jumped at hearing Aelsa's voice. The door burst open, and Sigyn stormed through. Her red hair was unkempt and hastily bound. The green dressing gown and white night-shift flowed about her body, revealing only the faintest hint of the swollen belly that remained after delivery. She ran barefoot across the room and dropped at Loki's sickbed. Aelsa and Rúna abruptly halted at the door when Frigga raised her hand to keep them from following. She wouldn't have them take Sigyn away from Loki when she was already deprived of her daughter.

"Loki..." Sigyn caressed her husband's cheek and grip his hand. "Loki, I'm here. My love, please... don't leave me again. Frigga, why is he like this? I thought he was healed?"

"His physical wounds are, my dear," said Frigga. "But those are not the only ones that need healing. Loki died and was revived thanks to extremely powerful demonic magic. His own powers and soul must find the proper balance again."

Sigyn raised her head, the look of anguish in her eyes tearing at Frigga. "Is there nothing we can do? Frigga, please!"

She wanted so very much to say there was something. But the last thing Sigyn needed now was a lie. Frigga walked around the bed and crouched down to take her by the shoulders. "We must allow him time. Come along now. You've been through a terrible ordeal yourself, and you must rest."

"No, I won't leave him."

"Sigyn, please..."

But Sigyn stubbornly shook her head and gripped Loki's hand tighter. Frigga glanced back at Aelsa, who sighed in defeat. Reluctantly, she let go of Sigyn and joined the Elf Queen. Rúna tried to slip away from them to sit in a corner of the room to be with her mistress, but Frigga beckoned the handmaiden before she got too far. Loki might wake up at sensing Sigyn, and Sigyn alone, near him. Or so the Queen hoped.

***

Another three days passed. Nothing changed. Aelsa and Frigga tried to get Sigyn away from the healing room to rest, but she adamantly refused to leave her husband's side. She refused to sleep. She refused to eat. Rúna did her best to tend to her needs, but Sigyn grew so vexed by the girl's presence that she eventually sent her away. The girl didn't understand. No one did. No one could. 

News of Sigyn's plight reached Thor, and he couldn't sit by any longer. He had to see her. Though he was frightened. There was no telling how she would react to him. Sigyn probably blamed him for all that had befallen her, as she should. She might even try to kill him. 

I deserve it, he thought. None of this would have happened were it not for me.

Resolved to make his amends, Thor made his way to the healing room. The few servants he passed as they went to ready the hall for dinner stood aside for him, but they didn't bow or spare him a single glance. He was Crown Prince no more, and all of Asgard knew it. The firstborn son of Odin was the greatest shame of the illustrious realm. Not even his closest friends knew how to act around him now. He was an outcast. Not even Loki had ever been treated as such. 

"What are you doing here?"

Pulled out of his musings by a youthful male voice, Thor looked up to see Fandrall guarding the door to the healing room. He should have figured Sigyn's ever-loyal champion would be here. Especially after Björn's departure. 

"I have come to see my brother and sister," said Thor. "How do they fare?"

Fandrall scowled back at him with his hazel eyes and scoffed. "Now you care? It's been one week since Loki fell into his own strange version of the Odinsleep. One week since Lady Sigyn risked everything to save her loved ones and lost it all. One week since their daughter, your niece, was delivered to the ancestors. Where were you during that week, Thor? Tell me."

"I did not think —"

"No, of course you didn't think. You never do."

Thor gritted his teeth. Only family members spoke to him in such a manner. His friends — with the exception of Sif, perhaps — would never dare. They always carried him with the utmost respect. That Fandrall would address him so crudely and direct now merely proved he had truly fallen from grace. 

"I shall atone for letting you and the others leave that day and for letting Lady Sigyn go to Mephisto's world for the rest of my life," said Fandrall. "If she orders me to drive a dagger through my heart for that grave error, I will gladly do it. I will serve her in every way she desires, for it is all I can do. But you, Thor, can do nothing. Not unless you know of a way to wake Loki and bring back their daughter or turn back time before any of this ever happened. If you have the means to accomplish this, I shall let you pass. If not, you will go no further. For I will not allow you to grieve Lady Sigyn any further, which your death by her own hand will surely do."

His frankness took Thor off guard. He tried to come up with a reply, anything at all, to convince Fandrall to let him into the healing room, so he could see and speak with Sigyn. But Thor was at a loss for words. What was there to say? Nothing. What was there to do? 

Something. Anything at all. There must be some magic or being that can —

Suddenly, Thor recalled one who could help. One born and raised by magic, who possessed even greater foresight than Frigga herself. But it was long ago that someone had last laid eyes on her, and those who did... were dead. Yet it was the only thing he could think of. He had to try, for Sigyn and Loki's sake. And if his life was truly forfeit in this fool's attempt... so be it. 

***

Sigyn came so close to opening the door upon hearing Thor's voice outside the healing room. So close to reducing him to a pile of ashes for the unbearable ache he had caused her. This was a man who'd once claimed to love her, yet who hurt her at every turn. He didn't deserve to live.
Why should he? Why him and not her innocent baby girl? Why Thor and not Loki? What was so special about the firstborn son of Asgard that he was allowed to go about his day while she and her husband lost it all yet again?
The all-consuming desire for vengeance nearly made Sigyn's fire surge. Yet when she heard Fandrall's words, she stayed her hand. He sounded so... bitter. Hostile, almost. The way he spoke to Thor was so unlike him. Truer words were never spoken, but it still surprised Sigyn Fandrall, of all people, would even raise his voice to his Prince. And to hear him say he, too, atoned for her misery and was prepared to strip himself of this life if she commanded it... 

Fandrall, my dearest champion, you bring me such solace in this trying time. In another time and place, you might have even been mine. We shall never know. And I will never give up on the one who holds my heart now. Never.

Sigyn returned to Loki's sleeping figure, wincing as she sat at his side. The physical strain her body had endured during childbirth still lingered and limited her movements. But it was nothing compared to the agony threatening to overtake her from within. That pain would last forever, like rain that never ceases to pour. If she could rip her heart out to end it all, she would.
But she didn't give in to that want. She refused to be heartless. Even if he wasn't awake, Loki was grieving, too. For him, she couldn't be heartless. For him, she never needed heart more.
Her fingers closed around her pendant. The constant cold that had been her companion for the past months was gone. Only the faintest trace of frost remained. It was the only way Sigyn knew for sure her husband yet lived. That, and the slow beat of his heart when she placed her hand on his chest. 

"My love," she spoke in a broken whisper. "Loki, I'm here. Everyone else has left, but I won't, I promise. I will do as you did for me thirty years ago. I will stay and wait for you, now and far longer than forever."

A tiny flicker of Loki's magic surged within the pendant at those words. Sigyn held her breath, hoping, praying for a miracle. But nothing happened. Loki remained trapped in sleep, lost in a world where she couldn't... go. 

Unless... I can. We share a bond, after all. If I allow sleep to take me and reach for Loki in our dreams, I can find him. I can wake him up. 

Sigyn hastened to the worktable. There was still much she needed to learn about healing, but Loki had taught her some basics during their time on Midgard. One lesson, in particular, came to mind now.
In the week that she'd been tormented by the vision of the blue Infinity stone, Loki had given her a concoction of several herbs that helped her sleep after waking from the horrid nightmares. He had showed her how to make it. 
Fervently, Sigyn searched for the ingredients she needed; lavender oil, chamomile, and, of course, valerian root. She weighed the doses attentively, knowing full well even the tiniest error could have disastrous consequences. 

Crush the valerian and chamomile and mix them together for the tea. Spread some of the lavender at the base of the neck and at the temples, and heat the rest, so the aroma reaches full effect. 

Remembering Loki's instructions to the letter, Sigyn worked diligently and prepared herself for her journey into the land of sleep and dreams. As the herb poultice boiled water and the delicate fragrance of the lavender surrounded her, she recalled another lesson of his.
Besides the magical bond between two mages, there was one other connection that was nigh impossible to break — a blood bond. Though not as powerful, it was considerably more dangerous to use. Any form of blood magic came at a heavy price. One had to literally give up part of themselves or of another. If the magic failed, that part would be lost... forever. As it stood... Sigyn had nothing left to lose. 

She pricked her finger with the tip of a silver athame and let the blood drip into the darkening tea. Then she walked back to Loki and pricked him as well. She lingered, hoping he would stir, but once again, and to her great dismay, he didn't.
Keeping his blood on the athame, Sigyn returned to the table and added his blood to her own in the tea. A faint glow, blue and gold, shimmered through it. This had to be a sign. A good omen that this would work. 

Her eyes darted to the door. All was quiet again. Thor must have left, but Fandrall was probably still outside. She wondered if she should say something. The warrior might try to stop her if believed it was too great a risk to take. No doubt he would even use force this time. Anything to prevent her from getting hurt again. So, perhaps it was better to leave him ignorant.
Then again... if something went wrong, he would need to fetch Frigga and the healers. Sigyn didn't care about risking her own life, but Loki had to be saved. She thus resolved to take the safest path and drank the tea to limit Fandrall's chances of stopping her, remembering it didn't take long for the concoction to take effect. Already, she was drowsy from the lavender scent invading her mind. And with their blood added to it, there was no telling what it would do now.

Slowly, Sigyn made her way to the door and unlocked it. As expected, Fandrall was just outside. His eyes widened as she appeared on the threshold. He hurried toward her, but halted at the sudden whiff of lavender escaping the room. "My Lady, what —?"

"Fandrall, please listen. I have little time. I believe I have a way to wake Loki by reaching him in his dreams."

"What? Lady Sigyn, no!"

"You can't stop me; I have already taken the potion. When I lose consciousness in a few moments, you must put me as close to Loki as you can. You must... guard our bodies. And... h-have Rúna... warn Frigga and... the healers. But y-you can't... let them... until dawn... I... I need... time..."

Sigyn felt her eyes grow heavy. Her knees buckled. Fandrall caught her in his arms as she collapsed. He tried to rouse her, but she was already slipping into sleep, pulled in by the desire to reach Loki and wake him up. 

***

"Thor, I know you want to help Sigyn and Loki, but this is madness."

"Sif, I appreciate your concern, but I must do this. I understand if you want to return, though. It is a perilous journey, and if you don't feel confident you can manage along with me —"

"If I cannot manage it? Who is it again who lands flat on his arse during the obstacle course time and time again?"

Thor sniggered at her comment. He had hoped to steal away into the night, but Sif had caught him sneaking to the stables and had promptly pursued him. Only when they were well in the privacy of the forest did Thor allow her to gain on him. He was glad he'd done so. There was none he would rather have at his side, and he thanked all the Norns and ancestors for her continued friendship.

Sif held her own resignation about what had occurred, but she, at least, still spoke to him and sought him out — even if it was with a clever insult here and a hard punch to the shoulder there. Volstagg was louder and more brutish than ever, which Thor knew was only a front for the guilt he truly felt. Hogun had returned to his homeworld of Vanaheim to reflect on matters in seclusion. And Fandrall... well, he'd voiced his thoughts on the matter clearly.
The people barely acknowledged Thor's presence when he entered the room, and even Frigga and Odin acted coldly around him. It might not have been so bad had he been allowed to see and care for Baldur in his confinement, but the Allfather and Queen were adamant about teaching the princeling a lesson, stripping him of all contact, except for his tutors. And with Loki and Sigyn shut away in the healing room... Thor finally understood what it meant to stand truly alone in the world. 

"Thank you."

Sif glanced over at him as their horses cantered leisurely side by side. "For what?"  

"Your friendship," said Thor. "And all you did to save me from... that place." 

"There is no need to thank me. I was merely doing my duty. As Asgardian and as your friend."

"Nevertheless, it means a great deal that you came for me."

"Oh, you're not getting emotional on me now, are you? It really doesn't suit you."

A smile crept up the corner of Thor's mouth. He knew Sif well enough to read through the facade of the strong female warrior who made it through the highest ranks of the Einherjar on her own to become one of the Crown Prince's most trusted and closest commanders.

Former Crown Prince... 

"You know," began Sif, "I only know what the people whisper about Freya. If they dare do so, that is. Can you tell me more about her? Have you ever met?"

Thor cleared his throat and sat straighter in the saddle. "I met her once as a child, and again a few centuries later after... ahem, not important right now. Anyway, Freya is... a unique being. Born Vanir, but with magic and powers unrivalled in any of the Aesir. She alone holds full control over seidr. Not even the Allfather and Frigga can match her skill in this."

"She is völva, then?" asked Sif, a hint of fearful awe in her voice.

"Freya shared her prowess of foresight, healing, and the way of the cosmos with a few among the Aesir and even selected some minor beings living in other Realms to pass her knowledge on. She continues to travel, seeking to advance herself and any who need it. But Freya can be fickle as well. In essence, she is not much different from a fire mage. Her desires drive her to pursue certain... thrills. It caused some minor disputes in the past, but Odin much rather holds her as a friend than an enemy. My mother tried to have her join the sisterhood, but Freya refused, preferring solitude in the practice of her craft."

"And... our destination? What do you know of Folkvang?"

Thor pinched his lips. He didn't know nearly as much of Freya's abode as he would like. Still, he met Sif's worried glance and mustered a smile. "The halls of Sessrumnir and the eternal fields of Folkvang are filled with the souls of those with a fighting spirit. It's unclear how Freya selects who joins her there and who she allows to go on to Valhalla, but all agree it is a great honour to be chosen by her."

An honour I desperately hope she will bestow upon me. 

"Forgive my ignorance, but how exactly do we travel there?" asked Sif. "We yet draw breath. Are the living allowed to enter the fields?"

"We need to knock on the door," said Thor, prompting his friend to raise a questioning brow. He continued, "There is a stone circle at the foot of the mountain. If we knock thrice on the stone holding the effigy of a falcon, a gatekeeper to Folkvang should appear to us. That creature will determine if we are worthy enough to be presented to Freya, depending on what we will offer. Or so I've heard it say, anyway."

"Wait, what do you mean by what we will offer?" Sif reigned in her horse. "Thor, tell me honestly, what is your intention?"

"You needn't concern yourself about it."

"No, I believe I do. You didn't bring Mjölnir or any other weapon with you, and I highly doubt a being like Freya would accept gold and jewels. Those are trinkets for a sorceress. So what have you to offer her?"

"Only one thing."

Sif tilted her head in confusion. Then her eyes widened. "Thor, no, you cannot!"

"I must," he spoke sadly. 

He spurred his stallion to move on, but Sif was faster. She made her own horse rush in front of Thor's to block its way. The animal neighed and threw its head back, but Thor maintained a firm grip on the reins to calm it. 

"Sif, move out of my way," he said.

"No." 

"I will not ask again."

"You know what to do, then."

Thor sighed. He already feared this would happen if Sif learned the true purpose of this voyage. Moving his horse to the side, he tried to pass her, but once more, Sif was faster. She blocked his path again, drew her sword, and held the tip at Thor's throat. Never had he seen more determination in her eyes. But... why was her lower lip quivering? 

"Sif, lower your weapon," he ordered.

"No."

"Damn you, woman, sheath your sword, and let me pass!"

The next thing he knew, Thor was on the ground, gasping for breath. He groaned as he turned on his side to raise himself up. But then, another unyielding kick from Sif's boot, against his head this time, knocked him right back down. Blood filled Thor's mouth. Before he could spit it out, Sif crushed his chest with her knee. 

"I'm sorry, Thor, but I won't allow you to sacrifice yourself to Freya for a mere chance of helping Loki. Your death will solve nothing and will only undo the terrible sacrifice Sigyn was forced to make. Please don't fight me on this. I don't want to hurt you any further."

She clasped his hands together, meaning to tie them, but Thor had recovered more than enough from the daze of her kick to prevent her from doing so. He grabbed hold of Sif's wrist and pulled her to him. Her startled exclamation was smothered as he rolled them over and pressed his forearm down on her throat. Thor pinned her body with his own to cease her struggling. She clawed and scratched at his biceps with her free hand, but he didn't remove his arm. 

"Forgive me, Sif. But I must do this. I hope to see you again, either in this life or the next. If not... know your friendship meant everything to me." 

Sif's eyelids fluttered. She fought desperately to stay awake, but there was nothing to be done against Thor's brute strength. Her hand dropped, her body stilled, and her eyes closed. Only after assuring himself she was truly unconscious did Thor lift his arm from her throat.
He caressed Sif's face, stroking away a strand of black hair. Her chest rose slowly but steadily against his. Feeling her body so close to his... It stirred a feeling within Thor he never knew he could have for Sif. It wasn't the first time they fought like this, but it was the first time they did it outside the sparring grounds. Circumstances were different. Words spoken held another meaning. A stronger meaning. 

A fleeting brush of his lips against her cheek was all Thor dared to do. He pushed himself up, unclasped his cape, and draped it over Sif. Nights could get cold, especially in the forest. If he did, by some miracle, return, he wouldn't want to find his friend frozen to death.
Thor climbed his stallion after tying Sif's horse to a nearby tree so it wouldn't wander off, and then stole one last glance at her. He didn't want to leave her. But he had to. Sigyn had risked and lost everything for him. Now it was his turn.