Burning Dahlia | A Loki Story

Chapter Three ~ A Way In

A/N: Hey guys! I know this chapter is a little bit shorter than the others but the ending felt like it needed a chapter wide bridge. Make sure to leave a vote and a comment if you like it and be sure to enjoy!

 

An Asgardian inn was always a rather enjoyable experience, a generally cozy room coupled with a feast like breakfast to wake up to being one of the chief experiences of being a tourist on the luxury planet. As for Dahlia, this was no tourist trip, and while the room was as comfortable as one could be she was still wracked with indecision and stress. She stood by her decision to not go back home. She didn't want her family to be prosecuted or questioned for her questionable deeds and motives.

There wasn't much Dahlia could do but wait till morning, perhaps dig the bundle of maps and floor schematics from her bag and attempt to calm her mind enough to formulate a real course of action. Hel, who was she kidding. She may have been near a thousand years old, but to kill a prince? That was just a waste of talent to a dungeon or executioner's block. On the other hand, she mulled, if she could pull it off she'd be a legend, and a very rich one at that. She continued to pace, a knock on her door nearly making her jump a foot out of her bones.

"Miss?" a soft voice asked just beyond the door, tentative. She went to open it.

"Yes?" A small boy, or very short man, stood outside her room, holding a bundle of very soft looking pelts. He smiled at her through the crack.

"It's rather cold tonight. We're offering extra coverings for the stay of our guests. Would you care for some?" Dahlia eyed the boy, eyes flicking from the fluffy bundle to his oddly green eyes. She opened the door just enough to let the peculiar child in. He quickly stepped through, setting the furs gently onto her mattress before turning to face her again. "Stay warm tonight, miss. I'm sure the back alleys have chilled you enough to need it." Dahlia didn't react, a certain glimmer in the boy's eyes freezing the blood in her veins.

"Yes," she mumbled, her voice a rasp. She cleared her throat, taking her eyes off the boy for a moment to look at the furs again. She most certainly would not be touching those. "Perhaps a bottle of wine would help to ease the exhaustion from such a long night's ride, yes?" She watched the faintest of smirks curl on his lips before it melted away.

"Yes, ma'am." With that he gave a small bow and slipped back through her door, leaving her to toss the no doubt cursed pelts out the window with her staff.

~~~

Another knock came to Dahlia's door a near half hour later, the boy nowhere to be seen when she opened it. However, a bottle of wine sat with an emerald green bow tied gracefully about it's throat just beyond the threshold. 'The Empty Bottle' was finely drafted onto it's label in delicate cursive, a small note attached to the bow. "For midnight thirsts and fine wine connoisseurs. No hour of the night is too late for a nice vintage, yes?~ Your Charge"

Dahlia nearly laughed. For someone who understood that he was being actively hunted he sure did know how to set the chase. She left the bottle on the desk, near tempted to open it and try the no doubt enchanted liquid within. "Tantalizing, truly," she mumbled sarcastically, her spoken thoughts falling onto deaf walls.

~

By the morning Dahlia had already slipped from the inn. Asgard was a generally calm and warm city, cold nights like the one previous being rather rare. Despite this the morning air was warm with a cool breeze that made the drafty streets seem alive in its awakening. She was still shaken, sure, but her hunt for the prince seemed more like a game now. He seemed keenly aware she was after him. Whether he knew why, she wasn't quite sure. She had to be more careful now.

After at least four hours of just riding about the city, Dahlia was finally convinced she wasn't being followed. Now was the perfect time to check out that back entrance in the palace wall. A trip to the market square for some gear and a stop for lunch were all she really needed before she made her way out of the city limits. Of course, she knew that today may not be the day she killed him, but she'd have to be very careful if she wanted that small glimmer of hope in the side of palace walls to remain open and she kept that in mind as she entered the rocky crags and sloping inclines of the mountains.

Dahlia had always loved these old mountain trails. Her father used to take her out riding with him on day trips, seating her just in front of him so she could hold the reins at their peak while he held them proper. The memory made her smile to herself and she leaned forward to pat Átthagi's neck affectionately. Even now, as summer was morphing into fall, flowers sprouted triumphantly through the rocks to blossom in gorgeous hues along the paths. It was beautiful and the rainbow of petals across the drab landscape held her attention so firmly she nearly missed the bashed out wall she was supposed to be looking for.

Once she'd spotted the flaw she stilled her horse. After a moment or two of contemplation Dahlia settled on hitching Átthagi to a branch that jutted from the rock face and simply hiked the roughly three hundred feet of mountain slope up to the wall. When she finally pulled herself up and over the cliff side she took a moment to take in her surroundings. As far as she could see there were peaks, the deep nothingness of the space beyond the planet seeming to swallow what should have been.

She turned back to the wall, peering inside. The darkness was encompassing; she couldn't see five feet in front of her. Reaching into her trouser pockets Dahlia pulled out a flashlight and shone it into the deep dark. She wasn't entirely sure where exactly the passage went. Of the maps she had managed to find of the palace layout she had been unable to figure out where the hole intersected. She sighed, eyeing the claustrophobic space. She'd be walking directly into either death or riches. She so desperately hoped it was the latter and stepped into the deep dark.

~

Of all the deep dank places Dahlia had crawled through, this was probably the cleanest one she'd been in. The squeezed walls and low ceiling forced her to crawl on hands and knees, the pads on her suit's palms and legs handy as she trudged along. After nearly thirty minutes of near darkness the space finally opened up into what was more of an actual room carved out of the golden walls. Shining her flashlight around the room she spotted items reminiscent of a drawing room, a bookshelf stacked to the brim with books beside a pile of very alluring soft furs. Alongside the books and luxury pelts lay journals, filled with sketches and diary entries upon closer inspection. She read one aloud.

"Of all the things they tell me that I am, it is Frigga, my mother, that tells me what a gift I am to this world. She holds my face and makes me look her in the eyes. She tells me I am loved. I am cherished. I am good. But as the days go on I believe her less and less..."

Dahlia frowned. These were Loki's diaries. Thankfully all were coated in years upon years worth of dust, this old hideout having either been abandoned or forgotten entirely. She hummed, setting the book of things she had no business reading back down in its rightful place. She nearly felt guilty. Despite her occupations she felt as if she were trespassing on something far more intimate than she deserved to know. She was here to kill this man after all.

Dahlia moved on, finding another hole in the wall just big enough for her squeeze through, perfectly sized for a teenage Loki. Perhaps he'd simply grown too big to reach his hideout any longer. She remembered the jab at her height the night before, keenly aware she was the size of a teenage boy and would grow no bigger. Her size was a gift, but as the prince had demonstrated was an easy flaw to assume made her any sort of weak.

Finally, Dahlia popped her head out of a hole in the floor, head smacking against the bottom of a bed painfully. She retreated back as she rubbed her head where no doubt a good sized bruise would develop. Just as she receded back into the hole she could hear a chamber door open and close alongside the heavy steps of a man as he started to undress. Loki.