Cellmates

1

It still surprised him how stirringly silent it could be down here. With all that went on above, not a single sound reached him until the doors to the dungeons unlocked. At which point, the entire room echoed with the sounds of armor clanking in time to the step that hurried down the stairs. It would be a young servant escorted by two guards. They would leave him with a meal three times a day and without so much as a word, they would leave again. The same cacophony of clattering metal and a quick step would fade up the stairwell again until he was once again left sitting in silence with nothing more than his thoughts for entertainment.

That had been his schedule for well over a year now. And the only deviation from this mundane existence was the occasional visits from his mother and the infrequent ones from his brother. The conversations were hardly worth the time – although he had much to spare. Frigga came always with the intent of consolation. She never lost faith in him, even though he'd given up on reconciliation long ago. She ensured that, despite being imprisoned, he wasn't exactly suffering. She came with books and stories of all that went on above while he remained in captivity. On the other hand, his brother came with mundane conversation to which he didn't respond. He was a fool to think their relationship was in any way salvageable.

Loki glanced toward the stairs, shifting only slightly where he sat against the stone column in the farthest corner. Despite not knowing the exact time, he knew his dinner was due any minute. Any moment, he would hear the door unlatch at the top of the stairs and the routine would continue. But still, not a sound. He craned his neck to ensure he hadn't simply misheard. Nothing. Though he couldn't see the door from anywhere in his cell, the shadows remained undisturbed – it was only one solid mass that still remained unbroken. He wasn't really hungry, but the sudden lack of order intrigued him. What in the realm could have possibly delayed them from so simple a task? A few thoughts swirled momentarily. Ultimately he didn't care enough to pursue the ideas any further.

Anyway, his thoughts were soon interrupted by the door finally unlatching. The sounds, however, that traveled down the stairs to his waiting ears, were nothing near to what he expected. It was the quick step of the guards along with someone else. Someone being dragged down here against her will. Most assuredly not the average servant girl. He could hear her fussing and fighting, though the guards remained silent. He watched in his periphery as they came into view. The same two guards and a young woman he didn't recognize. She wore clothes unbecoming of this realm and it seemed she wasn't here by choice. He also noted she wasn't wearing any shoes. Odd. She tugged insistently against the firm hold on both of her wrists and shoulders, though her efforts were futile.

The guards ignored her empty threats and obscenities as they forcefully tossed her into the cell adjoining his. She fell to the floor in an unceremonious fashion, but was quickly back on her feet, slamming her fists against the glass. She pounded at it until the glass cracked and sliced her hands. But she could only stare as it reformed before her very eyes, until the sheet of glass was solid again. With that, the guards turned and went back the way they came, paying him no mind. He listened until they latched the door shut and then his attention returned to her.

She nursed the bleeding wounds in her hands, pressing them against her shirt. The white fabric was instantly stained with scarlet. Her panicked eyes desperately searched the room, flying back and forth, her head hardly keeping up. He could almost hear her thoughts rattling around in her tiny, fragile skull. Find a way out – any means of escape. Loki knew full well she wouldn't find one. If this glass prison had managed to contain him for this long, a pathetic mortal had no chance of escape. Regardless, she returned to her feet and quickly searched the room. After a few long moments, she eventually came to the same conclusion. Her chest heaved as the panic pressed on, her bleeding hands still fussing with her shirt. But she stilled completely when she saw him. Her dark brown eyes looked perplexed. It seemed for a moment that she might say something – perhaps inquire as to what he was doing here. She took some peace of mind knowing that she wasn't alone. Of course, when Loki looked away with disinterest, she went back to her fussing.