Loyalty and Mischief (WIP)

Chapter 47 - When does the reason become the blame?

By the time Loki dropped to her knees at the riverbank, her entire body ached. Her lungs burned, shooting daggers through her insides. She gasped for breath between strained sobs, her tears still running hot down her cheeks. She trembled and shook her head. 
Fervently, she wished it were a nightmare. She wished she would wake in the lodge, with Sigyn just on the other side of the corridor. With all her might, Loki wished she were anywhere but here, with anyone but the Greeks. But her surroundings remained the same fields she'd been running through for what seemed like hours. 

"I want to go home," she cried, whispering to herself. "I want to go home."

But Loki felt just as she had after she'd learned about the thing growing inside of her. She was terrified of what would happen, of what people would say. She couldn't return to Asgard if others knew what had befallen her. Word would eventually reach her family, and they would... Norns, what would they even do? 

Loki's mind ran rampant with possibilities. Odin calling her weak, careless, a stain upon the royal house. Frigga crumpling in grief, blaming herself for every missed sign, every moment Loki had withdrawn and been left alone. Baldur would undoubtedly jeer she'd brought it on herself, while Thor would take pity on her, which almost made her laugh. 
She could endure Baldur's and Thor's reactions, Odin's harsh judgment, and even Frigga's heartbreak. Not like it was the first time her family had shown disappointment in her. What absolutely devastated Loki, though, was the mere thought of seeing revulsion in her wife's eyes. She imagined Sigyn falling silent in the awful way she did when wounded too deeply for words. She imagined her mourning not only what she'd suffered but blaming herself for the years spent unknowingly beside such grief.

Beneath every vision lurked the same terror: once the truth was spoken aloud, no one would truly see Loki anymore. She would become the thing done to her. A scandal whispered through gilded halls; a ruined daughter, a wounded prince, the parent of a creature born from brutality. She had survived the violation itself  and had taken her revenge. However, the notion of it being discovered nearly undid her more than the pain itself.

"I can't," she muttered. "I can't, I can't, I —"

The words choked in her throat at the single thought that suddenly struck her. She looked up, turning her head slowly. To her right, the waters of Lethe murmured. The surface shimmered, its silvery sheen beckoning. 
Loki bit her lip, then rose to her feet, not bothering to dry her cheeks or brush the dirt off her skirt and palms. Step by step, she approached the river, her eyes firmly locked on the water. She halted but an inch away from the bank's edge. 

Hades and Mnemosyne's warnings echoed all around. Surrendering even one memory to Lethe could have disastrous repercussions. And yet, Lethe offered a simple solution to all of Loki's problems. Clean. Effortless. 
It'd be so easy. Walking in and forgetting everything that had happened. The trap she'd walked into, the beatings and rape she'd endured, learning about the baby, giving birth alone... But why stop there? Why not forget about Hermes, too? Forget the betrayal, forget two hundred years of lies and manipulation, forget ever meeting him. She might as well go further still, consequences be damned. 

Loki closed her eyes. Her foot hovered over the water, ready to step in. Then she set it back down on the ground. Her fingers curled into fists as she pressed her lips. She inhaled deeply, letting her lungs fill with air. 
What was she doing? This wasn't a solution; it was avoidance. That wasn't why she'd travelled down to the Underworld. She'd come here to seek help. To find healing. Lethe offered nothing but pain to her loved-ones. And while she cared little for her siblings, and perhaps her father, she couldn't deal such a blow to her mother and wife. Frigga had always supported Loki in everything she undertook, and Sigyn... She owed it to Sigyn to at the very least try to face her past.