I was ripped from the ecstasy of the dream world to full tortured consciousness by the intense poison fire that burned my closed eyes in their sockets. I screamed incoherently through a mouth that refused to open as my whole body reflexively recoiled from the pain.
My struggles echoed through the rocks around me but I cared not; my only desire was freedom to move and end the agony. Escape was made impossible by the heavy metal shackles that bound me hand and foot to the cold unyielding stone beneath me.
I writhed in pain and anger that my useless body did not possess the strength to break the bonds that held me. I squeezed my eyes shut more tightly and turned my head to the side in the hope that the poison would run from my eyes, but the damage was already done. The burning continued despite my futile efforts. I tried to summon tears to wash my eyes, to no avail. Any tears I might have shed were long since dried up.
I heard familiar footsteps on the stone. A shadow passed over my eyes and the slow drip of poison stopped. My savior had arrived. My hated beloved; my ignorant, beautiful, devoted wife, Sigyn. Her patient hand held the bowl that caught the poison before it reached my eyes, but she could not, would not, hear my silent pleas for freedom. It mattered not. Even if she were to understand me clearly and possessed the power it would take to free me, her obedience to the Allfather far outstripped her love for me. I loathed her for that.
I shook the shackles one last time in protest as I yelled my anger loud enough to be heard in Asgard. I was answered by a distant howl and by the shifting of enormous coils far beneath me. My sons could hear my anger and suffering. They were prisoners just as much as I was.
Only one thought cooled my fury: this incessant torture would come to an end, and soon. My name once again rang through the halls of Midgard; my divinity was once again recognized. Even as I lay helpless, chained to a stone, I was gaining the strength I needed to escape. My lover would help me. And the next one, and the one after that. "Loki's Army," indeed. My faithful followers would ensure my return to power. I smiled despite the burning still slowly fading from my eyes. Perhaps if I could manage to return to sleep, to the dream world where everything and everyone was still within my grasp...
