Sindri faced the queen. "What is this place?"

Elvinia rested a hand on Sindri's shoulder, staring ahead and wearing a grim expression. "When Loki killed Baldr, the Nordic gods sought to apprehend and imprison him. However, they needed to keep him out of sight so humans didn't accidentally stumble upon the location and set him free." The Queen's features hardened as she spoke remorselessly of her actions. "The goddess Frigga came to me after the others slew Narvi and asked for my help in concealing him. I was all too happy to oblige."

All this time, Elvinia had known Loki's whereabouts and had never told her. And like everyone else, Sindri knew the fate of the chaotic god who'd crossed a line he could never come back from.

Sindri pushed Elvinia's hand away and scoffed. "When did you plan on telling me? I could have saved myself a lot of trouble."

"It doesn't work that way," the queen said tiredly. "Fae magic has its limits, regardless of the wielder. Loki cast the spell, and he must free you in turn. I also needed to wait for you to ask once you were ready. It wouldn't be right to sway your decisions one way or another."

A maniacal giggle echoed within the cavern ahead and carried into the tunnel. "But the fire queen had no qualms sending me to the realm in between. No no, with my brethren she convened and left me to rot forever unseen. But her hands are not clean, for when she fancies, will intervene."

"The nerve," Elvinia grumbled, "If there ever was a more meddlesome god..." The rest was unintelligible, lasting no longer than two seconds before she regained her composure and faced Sindri. "Do not let that imp inside your head. He is a master of manipulation."

It seemed both the queen and the wayward trickster had secrets. Sindri didn't want to go as far as to accuse Elvinia of manipulation, but she couldn't say she was surprised. Resigned, she mumbled, "Let's be finished with this."

Without waiting for Elvinia to follow, Sindri strode forward with decisive steps into the darkness. As her light hovered inside the cave, stalactites hung from the roof, dripping water in little puddles with an echoing splash. The ground was barren all around, save for three stone slabs to which a small form with unkempt blond hair was tightly bound. Directly over his head was a serpent, steadily dripping venom at an alarming rate. The only thing keeping it from touching Loki's face was a wooden bowl, held by a frail woman, eternally youthful in appearance, but wizened by sorrow and too many years in exile.

"Lady Sigyn," Sindri whispered, dipping into a reverent curtsy.

Despite all her husband's transgressions, Sigyn never left Loki's side, faithful to the end. While everyone had left the demigod to his vicious fate, performing unspeakable acts in the name of vengeance, Sigyn hadn't condemned him. Instead, she'd taken it upon herself to perform a true kindness by keeping the venom away from Loki's eyes as much as possible. She embodied the very definition of true love.

The woman didn't leave her post as she unwaveringly held the bowl over Loki's face. After all this time, her arms must have been like steel for her not to tremble or need a break from it all. But she angled her head and blinked in the fae light as Sindri approached. "Hello, my child. What business does a fae and her queen have in the realm between realms?"

Sigyn glared at the queen before returning to Sindri with sorrow and exhaustion creasing her features and tugging her mouth down at the corners. "Do you seek to gloat at my poor husband's fate?"

Sindri shook her head. "No, m'lady. 'Tis a fate worse than death or anything he could have devised for me. I wouldn't wish this upon anyone, no matter what they did."

"The gods are cruel," Sigyn lamented, "but such has always been our way. "They insist upon torture, murder, and humiliation on the deepest level, screaming to their followers they are in the right, when in truth, they won and wrote the Nordic history."

Stepping closer, Sindri said, "I admit, Loki has wronged me, but to bind him with his own son's entrails while forcing the other to kill his brother is evil. Their actions harm you as well, whose only crime was your association to your husband. That is not justice."

"There is no justice in this world or any other," the other woman replied.

Once she reached Sigyn, Sindri asked, "Is there anything I may do for you, m'lady?"

Sigyn regarded her with ancient, dull eyes in the silver fae light, filled with mistrust. But through the hesitation was a ray of hope Sindri doubted had been present since Loki's imprisonment. "You would show me kindness after what he's done?"

"Cursing me was his sin, not yours." Which was true. Sindri could not punish the poor woman who had already endured consequence for someone else's crime. "It seems we both find ourselves trapped in a cycle we cannot escape. I find your dedication inspiring."

A muscle twitched first in Sigyn's cheek and moved to her quivering lips. Her eyes reflected moisture in the fae light as she glanced between her husband and Sindri. "I chose my exile. No matter what he has done, I will honor him."

Sindri stood by her side and angled herself so Sigyn could see her without risk of dropping the bowl. "I ask you again, is there anything I can do for you?"

The moment she spoke the words, venom splashed from the bowl with a hiss, making Loki screw his eyes closed with a whimper. Up close, Sindri noticed the venom had literally melted the skin, leaving holes in the sockets where his crystalline green eyes once rested, and deforming his nose so the bone was visible.

"I must empty this," Sigyn replied, shaking from her edit to hold the heavy bowl aloft. "I suppose if there is anything to be done, you can keep that harlot away from my husband."

Sindri whipped around to see the rage burning behind Elvinia's eyes. Anyone else would have been reduced to a messy blob of apologies to the fae queen, but not Sigyn. She didn't so much as bat an eye as she spewed vitriolic words more toxic than the serpent venom in her bowl.

Based on their reactions, Sindri vaguely realized her millennium-old question had just been answered. Not that she'd ever mention it, but she was happy knowing she'd discovered at least one answer before she returned to her human state.

"I should tear your throat out along with his testi—"

"Okay, that's enough," Sindri interrupted, placing herself between the angry women. One thing that never seemed to change was the blame placed on a woman for infidelity, even when they were goddessess vying for the same man. The last thing Sindri wanted to witness was an unnecessary cat fight.

To Sigyn, she asked, "Does magic work in this cave?" When the other woman nodded, Sindri conjured a second bowl and a stand, placing it above Loki's face so Sigyn could safely lower hers. Then to the queen, she cocked her head to the side and said, "Forgive me because I truly love you as my mother, but you are better than this. You got your revenge the moment you helped the Norse gods, so please don't make this about yourself. I need answers, but I won't get a peep out of Loki unless you remove yourself from this room."

Elvinia's mouth parted for the slightest moment before pressing it into a thin line and marching toward the tunnels. She didn't completely exit the room, but kept a large enough distance to not be overheard. Sindri imagined the elder fae would have much to say later, and none of it good.

With a deep sigh, Sigyn lowered ber bowl and held it away from her, and Sindri noticed the scars on the latter's delicate hands. Some faded, and some forming fresh scabs. To ensure this for so long must have been taxing, both in body and soul, yet she bore it all without complaint. She dipped her head and whispered, "Thank you. I hope you find what you seek; I shan't be long."

Then she turned and moved slowly in the opposite direction toward what Sindri assumed to be the toxic basin spoken of in the Old Norse legends.

Taking advantage of the silence and space, Sindri summoned a cushioned chair with no backing and sat. With her voice low, she whispered, "We are alone now. Will you speak to me?"

She half expected him to rhyme, and was surprised when he angled his head in her direction. Without eyes, yet seemingly looking right at her, his appearance was unnerving. "I wondered if you would ever seek me out."

His voice, once so lyrical despite the annoying riddles, sounded like gravel scraping against metal. His visage, so pleasant the one time they'd met, destroyed. Here in isolation, with only the drip, drip, drip of water from the stalagmites and his wife for company, forgotten unless compared to a Marvel character.

"I never knew where to find you," she admitted.

His chuckle made her shiver. "Ah, your queen likes to keep her secrets. I am quite certain she never confessed that it was she who sought my company rather than the other way around."

Sindri groaned. "I would rather not know what you two got up to in your spare time. I am more interested in why you cursed me and how to undo the spell."

Venom splashed into the bowl above, landing with a thud, followed by a splash. Loki tilted his head so his ear faced upward. "Did you do this?"

"Yes. And I hope you appreciate your wife. She is much too good for you." Her actions were the definition of love in its purist form. No one deserved that woman.

Loki turned his head again and rested it on the stone slab. "Such a good lass," he acknowledged. "She has wasted her entire life on me. I suppose I could say the same of you." Sindri shifted in her chair, but Loki kept talking. "Tell me, did you ever find love during your time on Midgard?"

Fond memories surfaced: of teaching Erik to walk as he stumbled on chubby, awkward feet, Paloma's and Thayer's unwavering friendship, her siblings, and the queen. Just as importantly, she'd enjoyed Rín's companionship when Sindri had been human and fae. Painful recollections of Thayer's unrequited declaration of romantic love, and the betrayal of a human she'd thought she'd loved. But never true, romantic love. Not even with Storm, but that could still change.

Sindri clenched her legs and stared at her feet as she bunched the fabric of her dress in her hands. "Love comes in many forms, and I suppose I have found it through family and friends over the years, but never in an intimate sense."

"Whose fault is that?" he retorted with a scoff. "I managed to dip into that young man's mind and had no trouble finding you in that crowd. He is strange though with an unfortunate name and a weird obsession with something called legos, but he meets your criteria. Strong, tall, and handsome, kind to the little brats in the arena, and focused on his objective."

Okay... The legos were oddly specific, but it was cute. Forgetting her plight for a moment, she asked, "Any bad habits I should know about before our second date?"

"He stuffs his socks in the sofa and forgets about them."

Sindri couldn't stifle her giggle. There were worse habits; he could be a nose picker or creepy mouth breather in the bank line. Also, how did he know the word couch? "I'm sure I can live with that."

Loki fell silent for a moment, punctured by the dripping water and venom. Eventually, he sighed. "My wife owes you nothing, and you have every reason to hate me. You could have easily submitted to your father's demands or stood aside for your queen to follow through on her threat of castration. You are an extraordinary woman, even if your taste in friendship is questionable."

"Then why did you do this to me?" she demanded, slapping her thighs. "What did I do to deserve watching everyone I love die? To be bound and sliced open while humans tried to study me? If I'm so great, why couldn't you have simply taken me across the sea instead?"

"Where is the fun in that? When your father announced his intentions to marry you to Ivor and you paid your respects to the gods the first time, I heard you. My brethren cared little for the inhabitants of this world and spent most of their time focusing on petty grievances or bedding mortal women. I heard you, and I observed in the form of a fly on your window. The night of the banquet, I transformed into an elderly woman and followed you to the shrine, and granted your wish."

Sindri rubbed her face with one hand and groaned. Thayer had been right: Loki could sometimes help but only through trickery.

"So, what do I do now?" she asked, dropping her hand back in her lap. "I've tried to find love in the calm moments of my existence, and I've struggled to find my footing between worlds. I don't believe in love at first sight, and though I do like Storm, I think..." Sindri paused and pressed a hand to her chest as her heart thundered against her rib cage. She shook her head and closed her eyes. Holding and releasing her breath, she said, "I think he and I have a lot of potential to be happy. And if we manage to fall in love, I know I would be loyal. But going back would mean giving up my family and hurting them. Staying would mean losing my only chance to go back to being human."

What she didn't say was how conflicted it had left her. On one hand, she had never fully integrated into the fae realm, but she'd built relationships with them even when she tried to maintain a safe distance. On the other, she wasn't the same woman she'd been the night she'd run from her home. And becoming human only left her with the chance to fall in love. That didn't guarantee her happiness, and somehow, neither choice felt right.

Nodding, Loki said, "You do what is right for you. I guaranteed you true love, and you seem to have learned that it cannot be confined to only one designation. You will find relief because you are learning for yourself what love entails, and a large part of that is accepting yourself not only for the good and bad, but the human and fae halves. Humans have an unfortunate lifespan; it takes gods centuries to figure these things out. You had no chance without my help."

Sindri sat straighter in her chair as she absorbed his words and her heart moved from her ribcage to her throat. All this time, she'd thought he'd meant romance when all else failed, but the most obvious answer had been within herself. But he was speaking of two halves. Human and fae. A tremor rocked her words as she asked, "What do you mean by accepting both halves of myself? Are you saying I won't be human again?"

A shrill giggle pierced the hollow space, making Sindri wince. "I gave you a gift no other human or fae has: the ability to live in both worlds and follow your heart. Unfortunately, your condition is permanent; casting another spell will not change who you are, but that does not mean you should shirk love when it comes. And perhaps if your partner is worthy, a certain queen might accommodate her favorite surrogate child."

The weight of the world sat on Sindri's chest. All this time, she'd been certain she could become human again. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she tipped forward. Footsteps from two directions approached, and Sindri immediately reached for Elvinia's hand.

"What did he say?" Elvinia demanded.

Sigyn set her wooden bowl on the ground and stayed out of their reach as she wrung her mangled hands. "Did you find the answers you seek?"

Blood rushed into Sindri's ears and drowned everything out. Too many emotions and thoughts warred for dominance as she tried to comprehend her fate. There wasn't an option where Loki somehow spoke her name and made everything right. No true love's kiss from Storm.

Releasing the queen's hand, Sindri stood and curtseyed once more to Sigyn. "Thank you," she croaked before clearing her throat. "I have the information I need. Please find me if you ever need anything."

Sigyn cast her a sympathetic gaze filled with understanding. "The truth can be difficult to bear, but now you may freely walk your path without my husband's antics hanging over your head. Please do not waste your life. Go do and enjoy the things I never could."

The wistfulness in this sweet woman's voice struck a chord deep within Sindri's soul, shattering her from the inside out. Swallowing, she managed a nod with a silent bow to do her best. But for now, Sindri wanted to get as far away as possible from all things magic while she determined her next move.

Unable to meet Elvinia's questioning eyes, Sindri kept her head down. "I'm ready to go home."

Nodding, Elvinia looped her arm through Sindri's and guided her backward several steps. Like she'd done in her grand hall, the queen flicked her wrist once but didn't go through the portal right away. Clicking her fingers, the chair disappeared, though the bowl in its stand stayed firmly in place. "The bowl will disappear in five minutes. For everyone's sake, I hope none of us cross paths again."

"The feeling is mutual," Sigyn sneered.

Without a word, Elvinia stepped forward, and Loki's voice entered Sindri's head. 'Do not fret, dear Sindri! Through hardship and sorrow, you are now free! Your life is a gift, so embrace it with glee!'

Sindri gasped. He'd said her name! But there was no time to say or do anything as the portal swept her back into the fae realm.

WC: 3014
Overall WC: 31542