Loki: Storm of Swords

Chapter 38 - Hell Hath No Fury Like Ragna's Scorn

Sif kept glancing over at Ragna whenever they were riding, camping, or when she was on watch. The little girl had not lost her stormy expression, and seemed genuinely peeved that Loki had handed her over to Sandor Clegane, even though it was apparent that she liked the man. The giant always stayed by her side, and she usually either had her hand on his arm, or her fingers were laced with his. Clegane never cursed, or spoke in an angry or violent manner in front of Ragna. She was the daughter of the lord and lady he served, and would be a lady herself someday. At that moment, Sif was watching Ragna as she washed in a little stream that was on their way to the Eyrie. The light of the sun was starting to fade, and Sif watched as Ragna splashed herself with water. "Hurry up, Ragna! The water is getting cold!" Sif said as she finished washing her face and neck with the chilly water.

"I don't mind. I rather like it," Ragna said before she dived in. Sif watched with trepidation for a moment until Ragna resurfaced.

"I don't want you to catch your death of cold. Come on out," Sif insisted, holding out a blanket. Ragna turned to look at Sif, and as she did, her skin turned. It was no longer pale and her eyes shifted from green to red. Sif watched in fear as her complexion became a sort of robin egg blue. Her red eyes were not as crimson as other Frost Giants she had seen, but then, Ragna was only half Jotun. 

"As I said, I rather like it," the child repeated. Her skin shifted back to its previous creamy white, and her eyes became emerald green again. She sat back down in the water and slapped the surface, rather in the manner of a petulant child. Sif had remembered learning from Thor that Loki was a Jotun, specifically, the son of Laufey, former King of Jotunheim. It had been a surprise to the Warriors Three and Sif when Thor had informed them of Loki's true heritage. At that moment, Ragna was a shocking reminder of that. 

"Do you change skins often to scare people?" Sif asked as she sat down at the water's edge, dangling her feet in the swirling water. Her toes were quick to get numb.  

Ragna shrugged her shoulder as she answered, "Not many people know about my father's heritage. They know better than to ask such sensitive questions."

"They know it's sensitive?" Sif posed as she withdrew her feet and dried them off with the blanket before putting her stockings and boots back on. 

"My father had said, and I quote, 'My fathers were both born from rich bloodlines.' Clearly, he's referring to his birth father, Laufey of Jotunheim; and his foster-father, Odin of Asgard. Many people assume that he is the bastard of some high and noble ruler. Only his closest friends, and family know the truth," Ragna replied.

"The truth of what?" Ragna's green eyes could not have become anymore piercing.

"That he was less because of who and what he was in the eyes of both his fathers. A runt in the eyes of Laufey, too small to be anything of worth; and an orphan in the eyes of Odin, not his blood and not worth the time and attention," Ragna answered simply as she stood up and made her way back to the bank. Sif was quick to wrap the blanket around her and grabbed her clothes and shoes. She rubbed the little girl's arms quickly in an attempt to warm her up, but found herself slowing down as she and Ragna looked at each other. "Why do you even care about us? We're his children; half-Jotun hybrids. You should hate us," Ragna stated and Sif winced at her judgmental tone. 

"I don't hate children. I... I can't hate you," Sif said simply and she wrapped Ragna in her embrace abruptly. The little girl was startled by the sudden show of affection from the Asgardian lady. Sif buried her face in Ragna's shoulder and tried to blot out the image. The image of what her own-

"Ragna! Lady Sif!" called a gruff voice and they both looked up. Sandor was standing on the little knoll of a hill that overlooked the creek. "Hurry along! Supper's about ready," he called. Ragna pulled away from Sif, but the Asgardian lady saw a look in her eyes that was not disdain or annoyance. It was pity. Ragna tightened the towel around herself and walked up the hill quickly towards our camp. Sif followed her as fast as she could and soon joined the rest of their group around the fire. Her and Obara held up the blanket to conceal Ragna while she dressed. Meanwhile, Sandor was turning a makeshift spit over the fire with a deer roasting on it. Rhaenar was sitting beside him, fiddling with the magic dampening cuff around his wrist. Sandor glanced over at him several times as the boy picked at the weaving around the edges. "You know it's not coming off, little lord. So why mess with it?" Sandor asked as he continued to turn their dinner on the stick. 

"Because it bothers me," Rhaenar responded as he continued to pull on it. 

"You know why he put it on you," Sandor rejoined and Rhaenar nodded.

"I know why. Doesn't mean I have to like it," Rhaenar coldly answered. Sandor let out a sigh before he felt a warm presence by his side. Ragna was crouching down next to him, leaning in and nestling her head against his shoulder. Sandor leaned over, whispered something to her, and as she moved over to be next to her brother, his eyes met Sif's. The Asgardian warrior nodded as she sat down next to Obara Sand, who was sharpening the tip of her boar spear. 

"Rhaenar, stop playing with the bracelet. You might mess with something you shouldn't," Ragna said and her brother frowned at her.

"Mess with what? It's not like you know anything about magic to make that assumption," he countered, nastier than he meant to. Ragna's face darkened instantly. Before her twin could apologize for his mean remark, she had her hands around his throat and was squeezing. 

"Children!" Sif scolded as she practically leapt across the fire to separate them. Sandor had already pulled Ragna away while Sif examined Rhaenar's throat. A light smattering of bruises had already started to appear around his neck and Sif clucked like a mother hen. "Ragna! That was cruel to do this to your brother," Sif said, glancing over her shoulder at the little girl.

"Well, you didn't hear what he said," Ragna sniffled as Sandor picked her up. 

"Come with me. Let's take a walk," Sandor said, carrying Ragna away from the fire. Sif looked back at Rhaenar and his eyes were looking away from her.

"I did say something mean. I... belittled her," Rhaenar admitted and Sif sat down next to him, pulling him into her arms. 

"I take it as you've done it before," Sif said and Rhaenar nodded.

"Once or twice. Got into such trouble with Father and Mother for it. Father said he was teased when he was growing up and it's never nice to pick on somebody because they don't have something you have," Rhaenar explained and Sif knew Loki had been talking about her and the Warriors Three. "I just feel weak without my magic. Is this what Ragna feels like every day of her life?" Sif snorted a little and shook her head.

"Your sister doesn't strike me as the type of person to feel weakness, and even if she did, she wouldn't show it. Your sister might not have magic like you or your father, but she has strength. I see her and I see myself when I was a little girl," Sif stated and Rhaenar raised his eyebrow. 

"You had a magical twin brother, who beat you down?" he queried, and Sif gave him a look.

"Not exactly. My brother of whom I speak is not my brother by blood, but bond. His name is Heimdall. His father died in combat and his mother disappeared, and most people believe that she committed suicide. My father was friends with his parents and took him in. He was a few years older than me, but we were raised together. I wanted to train with him, but both my parents wanted me to be a 'lady of court'. Heimdall betrayed their trust and trained me, insisting that his instructors teach me alongside him. But, I was still taunted by most boys."

"Not Father." Sif blinked twice as she looked at Loki's son. "He didn't make fun of you because he knew what it felt like," Rhaenar said.

Finally, Sif got out of her stupor and responded, "You're right. He didn't mock me. He actually tried to help all he could because he was the prince and could get people to do as he said."

"Then why did you turn on him?" asked another voice and they spun around. Sandor was standing behind them, Ragna in his arms. It was Loki's daughter that had asked the question. She was leaning her head against Sandor's and had a slightly miffed expression on her face. 

"Because of... it is a reason I cannot tell anyone. Because it is not just my secret to tell," Sif answered and Ragna hummed.

"Then it is a secret you share with Father? That's fine. I'll just ask him. He can't lie to me," Ragna answered as Sandor sat down with her in his lap. Sif felt the blood drain from her face. Ragna continued to just stare at the Asgardian warrior, her emerald eyes the exact copy of Loki's. And... the other that would have been.