Rightful Place (Loki Fan-fiction)

Chapter Fifteen

     The darkness of the room was so cold, colder than the shadows that haunted her cell back in the dungeons. So, why was this room so different from the cell that had been her home for the past four hundred years? The answer’s simple really, her cell was haunted by darkness of sadness and regret, but this room that she was currently standing in was haunted by the darkness of her memoires.

Her bedroom, she was in her bedroom.

     If she listened hard enough, Rheda could hear the sound of her mother singing her a lullaby, the yelling of a drunken warrior, the fighting of two siblings, and the crying of an innocent, little red haired girl.

     So many memories; so much pain. No wonder she had gone insane, her life was filled with nothing but anger, hatred, and sorrow. What child should have to grow up in such an environment?

     Shutting the door, Rheda stopped any source of light from coming in. Being in her cell for so long caused her to see the light in utter darkness, she craved nothing else. Darkness had been her only friend for over four centuries. How was she just supposed to abandon it?

     Plus, Rheda couldn’t seem to bear seeing the sight of her old bedroom. She feared that if she gazed upon the old sight, that it might cause her to become driven by the anger that had been hidden within those walls. But most of all, she feared that she would cry.

     Rheda didn’t want to cry, but the sight of her bedroom just might do the trick. So many unspoken things had taken place behind this closed door; so many good things, so many bad things, and so many terrible things. It was now up to Rheda to decide whether or not she was going to let all of those memories consumer her, and eventually destroy her.

“I thought that you were strong. Pshh! You are no stronger than your pathetic sister.” Rheda clenched her jaw in frustration. It wasn’t often that she heard the taunting voice of her stepfather, but when she did, oh how it caused the blood in her veins to boul.

“Come on! Show me! Prove it to me! Are you better than her, or are you nothing but a foolish child?!” Rheda growled and snapped her fingers, causing fire to burst forth from her hands. The anger that she felt towards her stepfather was all coming out through her flames. But luckily, she was not planning to use them to destroy, merely to reflect on and see the past.

     As her eyes adjusted to the sudden light, she wished that she had never listened to voice of her stepfather. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to get out. But something was tugging at her heart, telling her to take a closer look, to not give in to the fear that she was feeling.

     Forcing herself to take a step closer to her bed was the hardest thing that she had ever done. She allowed one of her flames to go out as she slowly reached down to run her hand over the top of it; so much comfort. Never in her dreams would she have imagined being in this situation ever again. Rheda finally gave in, allowed the other flame to cease, and crawled onto her most precious piece of furniture.

     Lying there, she gave into the darkness of the room and closed her eyes. Perhaps just this once, now that she was atop of her most prized possession, she would get a good night’s rest. It wasn’t very often that she would have pleasant dreams whilst in her cell. Nor would she get much sleep in general.

     Sleeping in a cell without a bed wasn’t comforting or pleasing to the body in any aspect. Every night she was forced to either rest on top of the metal bench, or up against the concrete wall. Either way she knew that she was bound to almost freeze to death every night. She was a fire giant. Since both metal and concrete were heat conductors, when she touched them, the heat in Rheda’s body would react to the touch, therefore causing her to feel very cold.

Simple science.

     As Rheda spread her body across the silk sheets, terrible memories began to flash back into her head, or where they good memories? Rheda couldn’t tell the difference anymore, between good and evil. It really all depends on your point of view.

     Rheda could continue to hear her mother singing her a lullaby, as war struck outside. She could feel her soft touch whenever her mother would pet her head. It was as if her mother was in her very presence. But Rheda knew that her mind was only playing games on her, for she had been dead for a very long time.

     Her mother’s voice was soft and precious, making Rheda feel as if nothing could hurt her. Rheda smiled at the sound of her mother’s voice, which was singing one of Rheda’s favorite poems. “As I Walked Out One Evening”

     “'I'll love you, dear, I'll love you

Till China and Africa meet,

And the river jumps over the mountain

And the salmon sing in the street,

     “'I'll love you till the ocean

Is folded and hung up to dry

And the seven stars go squawking

Like geese about the sky.”

     Oh how Rheda had missed hearing her sweet mother tell her the one phrase that she hadn’t heard in four hundred years. I love you. Her voice and words were like honey dripping gracefully down a comb. The purr in her voice showed off her strong, western eldjötnar accent.

     Rheda had always been jealous of her mother’s accent, for she did not inherit such a beauty. Rheda knew that her accent came from her birth father, who was originally from the northern end of Muspelheim. A retched land, the North. Colder than any part of Muspelheim, which meant that it was a perfect place to keep their prisoners of whom they wished to keep alive.

     Luckily, Rheda had never been sent there, nor had she ever had to venture there. Nope, she got thrown into probably one of the best prison cells that Muspelheim could conjure up. Even though it was still very uncomfortable and the guards were extremely rude, Rheda had gotten a very nice cell, for Muspelheim anyways. She knew that other realms, such as Asgard, had much better prison cells.

     “But all the clocks in the city

Began to whirr and chime:

'O let not Time deceive you,

You cannot conquer Time.

      “'In the burrows of the Nightmare

Where Justice naked is,

Time watches from the shadow

And coughs when you would kiss.”

     Ah, yes, this was where the poem began to get depressing. As a child, Rheda never understood the meaning of the last half of the poem. She remembered always falling to sleep around this point because it would get so boring and confusing.

     As a child you never understand why everyone fusses over time. In a child’s mind, time goes by so slow, and nothing ever seems to come fast enough. But as you continue to get older, time becomes your great enemy. An enemy of which you cannot conquer, for it is too mischievous and will deceive you, just as the poem says.

     “'The glacier knocks in the cupboard,

The desert sighs in the bed,

And the crack in the tea-cup opens

A lane to the land of the dead.

      “'Where the beggars raffle the banknotes

And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,

And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer

And Jill goes down on her back…”

     With those words, Rheda fell asleep, just as she always had as a child, which was exactly what she was on the inside. She may always come off strong, powerful, and independent, but Rheda is not that way on the inside. For underneath her strength, she a vulnerable, amiable, helpless child looking for her mother.

 And that is how she always will be, until the end of her days.