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˖*°࿐ chapter fifty-eight.
lviii. WARNING TO ALL FUTURE MONSTERS
LAELIA, STYRUND, ARTOR, ALLISTER, DORIN, AND SEMAR were inside a wooden structure built against the Wall that protected all in Björndottir against the White Walkers, Army of the Dead and the Night King, all of them worried for the King in the North. Laelia was possibly the most worried out of all of them. Someone in a hooded cloak saved Tobin, swinging a weird contraption that burned all of the Dead men alive. Laelia's dragons were flying through the frigidly cold air, only two visible in the sky.
Two.
One died in battle. In fire and blood. Laelia thought it was a coincidence from the fact that when her dragons were born, she kept saying how she would take what is hers with fire and blood, and the Night King took her child with the same words her House's maxim was. The queen stood at a post, her silver hair and light blue dress making her blend in with her surroundings, Allister walking up behind her, wearing his thick furs someone lent him. "It's time to go, Your Grace," he says to her, his hands digging deeper into his pockets.
"A bit longer," she replies, continuing her stare into the white void, tears stinging her eyes, but she did not let them fall. She was waiting for Tobin to show up, to come back on foot, on something, having faith that someone she cared about wasn't truly dead. Allister left her alone, walking away, letting her wallow in her pity for as long as she needed to. She had lost a child, he was pretty sure it would leave one to be depressed. Aenerys' screeches were heard, his large orange eyes looking at the ground, searching for anything, for Tobin; Aenerys had grown fond of the King. The Queen turned, walking away from the edge, but a horn sounded, making her stop and turn around; Allister was marching up to the balcony, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Laelia was in front of him in a flash, staring at the field in front of her, seeing a dark figure running closer to the Wall. "Open the gates!" Somebody shouted.
She squinted, looking further, and sees a figure atop a broodmare. She recognized the clothing it wore, the darkly tanned furs and the black hair was a tell-tale sign that it was Tobin sprawled on the horse's back unconscious, Laelia's heart getting some relief. They moved their location to the Greystone ship, the black and red sails standing out against the white nothingness of snow. Tobin was placed in the room he had chosen for the voyage north, Dorin standing over him and ripping the frozen pelts off of him, the hard crunching sound filling Laelia's ears as her eyes scanned his peaceful expression, eyes closed and mouth opening a bit. Other men helped him sit him up and remove the coat, head hanging limp.
Laelia's eyes widen at the array of scars on his chest, his muscles contracting as he took labored breaths, the deep scars looking both gruesome and beautiful on his pale skin.
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IT HAD BEEN A DAY SINCE LAELIA'S DRAGON DIED, a day since Tobin came back to her, a day since they left the wretched place they called the north. The Greystone changed into her dark clothing from Dragonstone, her hair put up in the hairstyle she wore when she first met the King in the North. Tobin's eyes fluttered, showing signs of consciousness, his lips opening a bit to take a deep gulp of air. Everything was still blurry for him, the windows that showed sunlight was still obscure, but soon enough everything turned clear once his eyes landed on Laelia's soft, smiling figure sitting on the edge of his bed. She looked regal yet like a person you could confide your feelings to, a person that became the diary you confessed to. They didn't say anything, they just stared at each other, eyes making contact for a while, silence taking over them. Based on how quiet it was around the ship, it was morning, everybody was possibly sleeping in from the battle.
"I'm sorry," he breaks the stillness, the memories of the day before rushing into his mind. "I'm so sorry." He sees her eyes brim with tears, but she keeps herself strong and shakes her head, bowing it after. His hand goes to hold hers, her warm skin making his cold one heat up; fire and ice. A tear slips from her blue-violet eyes. "I wish I could take it back. I wish we'd never gone." Another shake of the head from her.
"I don't," she confesses after maintaining her composure, slipping her hand from his, placing it on her lap as she continues. "If we hadn't gone, I wouldn't have seen. You have to see it to know. And now I know. The dragons are my children. They're the only children I'll ever have. Do you understand? We are going to destroy the Night King and his army. And we'll do it together. You have my word." He gulps, "Thank you, Lali."
"Lali?" She repeats. Her heart clenches, eyes wondering to where his legs were, then trains them back on his face, letting out a sigh. "Who was the last person to call me that. I'm not sure was it my brother? Mm, not the company you want to keep."
"Alright, not Lali. How about 'My Queen'? I'd bend the knee, but. . ."
"What about those who swore allegiance to you?"
"They'll all come to see you for what you are." Laelia slowly slips her hand back into his, feeling the freezing fingers bend into hers, his thumb rubbing her knuckles gently.
"I hope I deserve it."
"You do."
"You should get some rest."
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"HERE'S THE THING: I'm probably better off staying here on Sakaar," Loki says to Thor, both standing inside a colorful elevator, the window behind them showing the city becoming smaller beneath them. "That's exactly what I was thinking," Thor replies. Loki is shocked: "Did you just agree with me?"
"This place is perfect for you; it's savage, chaotic, lawless. Brother, you would do great here," Thor responds, reminding himself of what Loki was the god of, but the dark-haired deity becomes offended.
"Do you truly think so little of me?"
Thor pauses and thinks, after a while, he replies with, "Loki, I thought the world of you. I thought we were gonna fight side by side forever. But, at the end of the day, you're you, I'm me. . . I don't know, maybe there's still good in you, but let's be honest, our paths diverged a long time ago." Loki is wounded by Thor's willingness to discard him, but he masks it with: "It's probably for the best we never see one another again." A moment of silence passes, Thor patting Loki affectionately on his shoulder, crossing his hands again. "That's what you always wanted." Another moment of silence. "Hey, let's do 'get help'."
