Descent Chapter 4

 
                   He ordered Eidra to pack his garments and ceremonial armor in his trunks the following day, first having to show her how to do so properly, all the while mumbling to himself that it would have been easier had he simply done it himself.
            Thor cornered him that evening after they'd set in attendance at a High Council meeting.
“Brother, come with me to the sauna this evening, we will talk of the impending trip.”
            Loki peered at him,“We shall have two weeks to talk of the trip while we are on it.”
But Thor would not be discouraged and he finally gave in, following him through the palace, past the arboretum, to the communal baths just outside the palace gates. Once inside the columned building, attendants handed them towels and bowed as they passed by on their way to the long wooden sauna. They disrobed at the benches just outside the door and wrapped the towels around their waists.
               Thor sat down and leaned back on one of the wooden benches, his hands behind his head, a beatific smile on his face. Loki closed his eyes and let the steam relax his muscles, for once sure his oaf of a brother had given birth to a good idea when Thor elbowed him.
             “How fair you with your prize?”
               Loki  looked to Thor, then away.
               “Have you had her already?”  
Loki gritted his teeth as Thor elbowed him again, “You have! What is she like, brother? Is she as skilled as she is beautiful?”
              “I do not know,” his voice was low, almost a whisper.
              “What? How can you not know what she is like?”
                “I do not remember!” Loki retorted a bit louder, irritated.
              “How...”
              “It was the night of the marking ceremony, I was drunk, I do not remember.”
               “Then how do you know it truly happened?”
               “I know.”
                Thor sat there a minute, “We must jog your memory. Come, we shall share her tonight.”
                Loki swiveled on the bench to face him, “Why must I share her? Have you not any number of women to choose from in the palace?”
             “Are you worried that she will ask to be given to me afterward? “ Thor laughed, “You have not practiced your spells as of late. Perhaps you could enchant her so that she would love none but you.”
                “I do not wish for love!” Loki spat, “I desire a hand maiden....”
               “Wise choice of words, brother,” Thor interjected,
                 “.....who will serve me, whether it be to see to my daily needs, mend my clothes, or fill my chalice and that is what I have. That I took her when I did was governed by lust born up by wine.”
                 “You must be fair, Loki. Would you bear another contest with her as the prize?”
                  “No!”
                   “Then I shall be at your chambers after the evening repast. Trust me, brother. It will be a night to remember.”
                   Thor patted him on the shoulder and he winced in pain at the rub against his stitches. He watched Thor leave the sauna with a smile. He stayed seated, brooding. The talk of sharing his servant had revolted him. For nearly a month now she had sat, a silent companion on her pallet, sewing or mending. She had learned her chores well, anticipating his daily needs as if she'd always been there. One time or another he had gone to speak to her, then remembering she was but a servant, he had stopped himself.  At the very least, he allowed, she alleviated the crushing loneliness he was often beset by.
He would need to leave soon, he dreaded the thought of Thor arriving at his quarters before he did. He rose from the bench, opened the sauna door and hurried out into the bath house.

                  Eidra had cleared away the evening meal tray from his bed chamber, grabbing a quick bite in the kitchen. When she returned, she found Loki already in his evening robe, pacing the floor. She was about to ask if he needed anything when there came a knock on the door. She turned around as the door swung open and Thor strode into the room, past her to his brother who now stood stock still. Thor whispered something in Loki's ear that made his eyes close, his mouth fall open. Thor unlaced the tie at the front of his robe and turned towards Eidra.
                 “Come  here, wench, let me look at you,” Thor advanced towards her, taking her hand in his and leading her to Loki who remained rooted to the spot, staring at him. Thor rubbed the palms of his hands down the front of his breeches. Eidra kept her gaze trained to the floor until she felt Thor's hands steal from behind her to cup her breasts, finding the buds beneath the fabric and rolling them between thumb and forefinger.
“She is a fine woman, Loki.”
              Her eyes grew wide then as she looked up, catching Loki's expression, a mixture of lust and shock upon his face as he looked away from the scene before him. Seizing the opportunity, she shoved herself backwards with all the force she could muster, throwing Thor off balance, causing him to momentarily loosen his grip as she shot forward past Loki to hide behind him as Thor regained his footing.
              “Please, Milord.....!” she cried, breathless.
Loki spun around to see her cringing behind him, then back to Thor who wore a satisfied smirk on his face, “Perhaps you have used your spells already, brother?”
              Loki sneered at Thor's remark, grabbing Eidra hard by the shoulder, squeezing until she yelped. He leaned over, growling in her ear, “You will submit to my brother or answer to me, whore!”
           She knew then that they were both of the same mind. He made to shove her to Thor's waiting arms but she dropped beneath meaty arms and ran straight at the doors, causing them to slam open as she fled from the room. Loki and Thor exchanged glances and started after her.
              She was running as fast as her legs could carry her, so intent on watching behind her that she nearly bowled over the stately woman who had stepped from a room along the corridor.
“Odin's beard, whatever is wrong, child?”
              The sound of fast footsteps coming towards them loosened her tongue, “Please, Milady. I beg of you, hide me!”
              The footsteps halted behind her as she clung desperately to the woman's legs, trembling, afraid to face the two men behind her.
             “What in the name of the Almighty Allfather are you boys doing to this poor woman?”
            Thor looked to Loki but Loki could only glare at Eidra.
             Thor made light of the encounter, waving to Eidra “We were having a bit of fun. She is a servant, Mother. We were only toying with her.” but Frigga read through him.
             Frigga gazed down at Eidra who was now looking back at the two men.“Is that true, child?”   “Yes, Your Majesty, I simply became scared and ran.” Eidra touched her forehead to Frigga's slippers, felt a gentle hand on her shoulder
“Rise, my dear.”
She rose to her feet and Frigga pulled her close, stroking her hair as she glared at Thor.
“This woman was a gift to your household but you made a bet and you lost her. Do not think I have not heard of your escapades, ” she glared at Loki, “And you. Loki, you should bring her to Odin, she may serve in the Great Hall. It would be better than fighting off the two of you.”
                 Loki could not keep his eyes upon her, instead training them on his bare feet.
            “Would you rather be given a position in the kitchen?” Frigga gestured to the two men, “Or return to Thor or Loki. The choice is up to you.”
              She shook her head, “I do not wish to work in the kitchens.”
              Frigga paused, “Very well, then choose the master you wish to serve.”
              Eidra glided to Loki's side, trying to hide from Thor's stare.
“So be it. My sons, you do dishonor our loyal servants with your play. Mind yourselves in the future or your father shall hear of it.”
            Thor and Loki bowed as Frigga headed away from them down the corridor. They started in the opposite direction back towards Loki's quarters, Eidra following close behind. When they reached the doors, Thor clapped him on the back.
“Now we shall teach her how to obey us!”
          Loki whirled on him, “No, she is mine to discipline. Leave us be!”
            Thor scowled at Eidra, then at Loki, grumbled, “As you wish, brother,” and stalked away down the corridor.
Once inside the bed chamber, Loki closed the door. Catching Eidra before she could turn to him, he took her by the back of her dress and sent her flying to the floor.
“Run from me again, whore and I shall personally stripe your back with my lash.”
              The hard marble of the floor tore at her skin. She got to her hands and knees, gasping. She knew she would have been better off in the kitchen, but fear of what he would do if she chose that option had made her return to his side. The treatment she was receiving now, however, served to push her to her very limits and she stood up.
           “Eidra!” she shouted as he strode toward her. He skidded to a halt.
         “What?”
          “My name is Eidra, it is not whore, or wench. It is Eidra!”
By the time she had finished her sentence, he was at her, the back of his hand across her face splitting her lip. She staggered back, a hand to her mouth.
           “I will call you whore if it pleases me, do not speak without my permission again!”
She saw the madness in his eyes now and it only fueled her own.
            “You are a cruel master, ” she shouted, backing away from him, tasting copper as the blood from her lip stained her tongue, “You have darkness, hatred, in your soul!” she struck her chest above her heart.
             “Because It is my right to discipline a disobedient servant?” He was before her again and made to grab for her but she darted backwards toward the balcony.
               “I have served you well and you would punish me for not giving myself to your brother? Your heart is made of stone!”
She could see the tall columns rising to the ceiling behind Loki and realized how close to the railing she was. She had stared into the depths of the river running past the sheer cliffs upon which the palace set many times. She wondered then, if she would die before she struck bottom. She turned, leaped to the top of the railing and pushed outward. All at once, she felt an catch her at the waist, snatching her from the air beyond the railing. She hit the balcony floor hard enough to knock the breath from her, sparkles floated across her vision and for a moment she feared she would faint away. Loki flipped her over on her back pinning her down as he crouched over her, trembling with rage.
           “If death be preferable to serving me, I shall choose how you meet it.”
He took her by the wrists, dragging her toward the railing again where he loosened the cord belt around his robe, knotting it first around one wrist, slinging it around one fat pillar of the railing and tying her other wrist so that she half sat, half lay on the floor, hugging the pillar like an old dear friend.
             “I shall leave you to ponder your fate until morning,” He stood back from her, hands clenched into fists, trembling as if they had need of something to do. He spun around without another word and walked back into the warmth of the room. She had started to shiver as he stood above her, now she felt the tears let loose. She pressed her face to the pillar and sobbed, her tears trickling down the column to wet her bodice.

          Loki lay there for a long time staring out at the balcony until the light from the fireplace died down and he could no longer see her. It had been quiet for some time. He rose from the bed, walked to her pallet and took up her coverlet, making his way out to the balcony where she had slumped forward in a fitful sleep, her head lolling to one side on her shoulder. He draped the coverlet over and around her body, his fingers brushing the handle of his dagger as he considered cutting her free. Giving a low growl at his moment of weakness, he returned to his own bed, falling into an unsettled sleep.

Frigga tilted her head forward as her lady in waiting, Tamarin, undid the diamond and emerald necklace, easing it from her neck.
“ Does my husband still see to the preparations for the trip?”
Tamarin bowed, “Yes, my Queen.”
She set the necklace carefully in a wooden box atop the dressing table, latching it closed before she carried it to a trunk at the end of the bed on which Frigga now sat.
Frigga stood, turned her back to Tamarin so she could unbutton her gown, easing it to the floor for Frigga to step out of. While Tamarin saw to the gown, she drew her evening robe over her head, adding the bed jacket that had been laying beside the robe on the coverlet. The older she became, the more sharply she felt the cold.
She watched faithful Tamarin fold her dress, place it gently in her woven basket to bring to the laundress then return to kneel before her, “Let me remove your slippers and tend to your feet.”
Frigga sighed and sat back down upon the bed as Tamarin slipped off the confining footwear. She wiggled her toes with relief. “Were it we could go barefoot in a peasant's dress at all times.”
“What would become of the finery in your wardrobe?”
“It would moulder,”she tapped her chin thoughtfully, “Except for the jade green piece. The seamstress who wrought that one was a miracle worker.”
Tamarin shook her head as she kneaded Frigga's tired feet, “The kingdom must have a king and queen arrayed in glory to look upon. Clothes make the person, I have heard said.”
Frigga shook her head, “ 'Tis the person makes the clothes.”
She leaned back on her hands paused, then looked down at Tamarin, “Would you answer me truthfully were I to ask a question?”
Tamarin glanced up at Frigga, “My Queen, I would answer as honestly as I were able to.”
“Have I indulged my sons far too much?”
Tamarin pursed her lips, “Tell me what my Queen considers indulgences.”
Frigga lay her hands in her lap, “Ignoring their escapades, their affronts. Making no effort to take them to task for their indiscretions?”
Tamarin patted her feet and stood up, “Discipline is a task for the Allfather is it not?”
“Should they not answer to me as well?”
Tamarin tilted her head, “Does something trouble my Queen?”
Frigga thought of the frightened girl at her feet. Her two sons standing before her breathless. Thor was infamous for his overzealous pursuit of women. Loki was equally infamous for treating his servants with cruelty, a trait which broke her heart. She had hoped she would find nurture a balm to his true nature but it seemed he was destined to travel his own path.
“Nothing troubles me, Tamarin. I was merely pensive. You may go. I am going to retire for the evening.”
Tamarin bowed and Frigga rested her hand atop her loyal handmaid's head, “Thank you, my friend, for listening to the ravings of an old woman.”
Tamarin stood and smiled, “I am ever yours, Your Majesty.”


            Eidra had been dreaming about home. Dreaming that she was back in her father's household playing a game of dice with him on the kitchen floor, one of the cats curled up in her lap. The dice had become heavier and heavier as she played until her arms ached with the effort of lifting them. The pain roused her from sleep.
Her arms were on fire. The shoulder sockets were numb, her elbows and wrists alive with pins and needles and her back ached with the strain. She wanted to call out to him to end her suffering but she was afraid to wake him. She tried to sit up further to ease the strain on her back, grimaced with the pain, felt a sting at her lip as it split anew. Sliding the cord further up the pillar to where it tapered down a bit, she felt something slip down her back to her hips. She could turn her head just enough to see that it was the coverlet from her pallet. She could not recall bringing it with her. Had Silas come to the chambers in the middle of the night? Rather it had crawled to her itself because any other explanation was impossible to comprehend.
          She heard the creak of a door hinge, then footsteps and knew it was all about to end. She craned her neck about just in time to see him striding across the floor towards her, hair wild about his head, his robe flowing behind him. He knelt down in front of her, lips tight together, lifted the right side of his robe and withdrew the long dagger from his thigh holster.
       “I have decided you shall have a choice.”
He put his hand to the back of her head, fingers gripping a hank of her mahogany hair. Tugging her head back, he placed the blade of the knife to the side of her neck and pressed it there just hard enough for the edge to start searing into the skin.
“Would you have me slit your throat to die, drowning in your own blood?” he pulled the knife away, brought it around behind her back and tilted her head forward, the point of the blade atop the vertebrae at the nape of her neck. She stared at his chest, refusing to raise her eyes to his.
“Or would you rather I plunged my knife through your spine, cutting that precious thread swiftly, speeding you on your way to Hel? It would be far more merciful.”
He had leaned forward, his breath heavy in her ear like a lover. She waited, not caring which method he wished to visit on her, simply closed her eyes knowing her pleas would fall on deaf ears. Finally the tip of the knife stuttered across the knobs of her spine and she winced with the pressure, felt the blade leave her skin as he backed from her. She looked up to see he'd raised the knife high. She turned her head away from him, unwilling to let the last thing she saw in this world be his face. Suddenly her arms dropped away from the pillar as the cord gave way. She cried out with relief, pulling her arms slowly to her body as the blood began to throb back into them.
             He stood up then, watched her for a minute as she sat back on the floor rubbing the blood  into her legs.
             “I would not deign to sully my blade with your blood. Get up, see to your chores. Lay out my garments.”
    He turned, started to walk across the balcony into the bedroom as she rose on clumsy feet. It was then that she felt the length of cord still dangling from her wrist. She lifted her arm and flexed her hand, about to untie the knot there when she looked up at him. His back was to her. Before the thought was fully formed, she had started to stride towards him, as the feeling returned to her feet, she started to sprint, the other end of the slice now firmly in the opposite hand. She reached up, looping the cord around his throat and started to twist it tightly, throwing her weight backward to upset his balance.
His hands flew to his neck. She could hear him start to choke, grasping at the cord, his knees buckling beneath him.  He pitched forward to his hands as she tightened the rope further, her legs astride his back when a sound reached her ears, making the hair stand up at her neck and she considered making the leap for the balcony railing yet again.
He was laughing.
    His hand gripped the cord and yanked it from his throat hard enough to throw her to her side on the floor beside him. He lifted her up by the rope still tied to her wrist until they were facing each other on their knees.
              “Your strength is no match for mine. You wish to speed me to my death...,” he withdrew his dagger once again, this time wrapping her fingers around the handle, covering them with his own and placing the tip against his chest just above his heart, “I shall help you.”
                 He began to put pressure on the knife even as she sought to pull her hand free, suddenly horrified at the thought of ending someone's life, even his, wondering now how she had ever managed to draw the cord around his neck.
              “Come now, you were ready to stop the breath in my throat, now you hesitate? You lack conviction. Stab me through the heart and I could lie here for hours. You could be well away from here.”
She looked up at his face, his eyes staring into her very soul.
“You are not the first to wish for my death and you will not be the last,” A tear sprang unbidden, rolling down his cheek to quiver at his chin and she looked away, redoubling her effort to release the knife in her hand. All at once, strength seemed to fail him, his body collapsing into itself until he'd nearly draped himself over her arm.
              “It would then seem that we must both live to see another day,” he muttered as his hand relaxed over hers. She pulled her own hand free, scrambling back from him until he reached out, catching the trailing cord and yanking her towards him.
              “Stop struggling,” he set the knife on the floor beside him, his fingers working the knot at one wrist until one hand was free, then the other. He gathered  up the cut cord and the knife and rose from the floor.
“Come, Eidra. We have wasted enough time today. Fetch the morning meal,” his voice was low, almost sad  
She remained where she had fallen, stunned, immobile until he pointed toward the door, “Up, woman. Must I tell you again?”
           She scrambled to her feet and ran from the room towards the kitchens with one thought spurring her forward. He had said her name.