Loki and Sigyn, His Glorious Purpose

Chapter Sixty

Time. I just needed time. I longed for the seconds to go slower, affording me every possible moment I had with Sigyn. Thankfully, in my panic, the world seemed to slow. Each beat of her heart became my measure of time. One slowly followed the other, beat and after beat. Even as I screamed and people rushed to my aid, everything went by as if it were traveling through thick mud.

My ears rang, I could hear nothing but the steady yet straining pace of her breathing. In and out, her lungs strained. Her breath was light and barely sustainable. Sigyn's chest shook with every single inhale, she was hanging on desperately to each ounce of oxygen. From the looks  of desperation plastered on her face, I could tell she was far too stubborn to give up this fight. Finally, Sigyn's famed stubbornness was good for something.

A shriek came from the crowd, making time spiral faster. Suddenly everything came into focus. People crowded around me, citizens and medics alike all asking what had happened. The woman ran forward. Frantically she began to support Sigyn's head.

"What did you do to her?" she asked frantically.

Blinking away the panic of it all, I looked up from Sigyn and to the woman. It was Hertha.

"A Butcher shot her with an arrow," I explained quickly as Hertha made quick work of taking off Sigyn's cloak thus revealing the extent of her injuries. Apart from the massive wound in her torso, her side was bleeding as well. I saw a faint glimmer of silver embedded into her skin, bullets no doubt. She must have gotten caught in the cross fire.

"We have to get her to a medic now," Hertha said shakily, "The b-blood, oh god."

Dropping Sigyn's cloak, she quickly turned away. She seemed to be on the verge of getting sick. Sigyn had always told me she was the only one of her sisters who was able to bear the sight of blood, I never believed her but I now stood corrected.

An older woman came to us and quickly addressed her wounds, "I'm a medic, I can help her, we need to lay her down immediately. Holding her is only causing more stress to the wounds."

Immediately as she said this, women laid down their cloaks and furs creating a makeshift bed for Sigyn. Looking up, it seemed as though every Asgardian woman had come to our aid. They were equipped with blankets, bandages, and everything of the sort. Gently, a group of women helped me lay her down. Even children tried to offer help by innocently praying for her well-being.

As her body hit the array of furs, she flinched slightly, baring her teeth and closing her eyes tightly. As she jolted she reached for me and held tightly to my sleeve. Immediately, I held her hand and assured her, "I'm not going anywhere, not now. I'm here, Sigyn. I'm here."

Hertha knelt at Sigyn's side, taking her other hand. "Sigyn, stay with us," she begged as hot tears streamed down her face. Women circled around us, all helping rip bandages and cloth or assisting the medic. The older woman cut through Sigyn's dress with a sharp dagger, leaving her bloody skin bare and exposed to examine. 

I held her hand tighter than I ever had before, hoping that if I just stayed everything would be okay. I caressed her face, gently turning it towards me as I began, "Sigyn, dear, listen to my voice."

Her eyes frantically darting around before finally focussing on me. Her brows were furrowed and her face was pale but despite it all, I knew I had her attention. Very gently, she squeezed my hand and let me know she was still there.

I smiled softly, choking back my own emotions. I had to be strong for her. Caressing her face I said, "There you are, hello my dear."

Sigyn's focus all at once dissipated as the medic began to fish out particles of debris from her wounds. Her back arched and she shrieked in pain, as the medic pulled out bullet after bullet as well as small splinters of wood from the arrow. Sigyn held my hand even tighter. She was still with us.

"Once this is all over, we're gonna settle down in a nice cabin in the woods somewhere. You love the woods, remember? I'll build it myself, just as you like it, alright? ," I said, trying to distract her from the fact that her wounds were being plugged up with cotton.

"She'd like that," Hertha said as she nodded, "Keep going, she's focussing on you."

I took a deep breath and continued, "We can have a garden, I'll help you grow anything your heart desires. We'll have enough land to have horses too, one for each of us. Hela will be there, of course, we can even have more children if you'd like. Anything you want, my dear, and I'll provide it. Just stay with me."

"Stay with us," Hertha repeated, "For Hela, don't leave her alone here. She needs you."

I grimaced for a moment. Alone. She had said. She truly thought so lowly of me that she believed that if Sigyn were to pass, Hela may as well be orphaned. It was so nice to know my in-laws were routing for me.

"She's lost so much blood," the medic said, fishing through her kit, "I have to put her to sleep, if she keeps moving around it'll only get worse."

"No, no, no," I said frantically.

"She's allergic to laudanum," Hertha explained, "She won't wake up if you give that to her."

The medic nodded, "The only thing I have besides that is Gelsemium, it won't put her to sleep but it will temporarily paralyze her."

"She's used that before," Hertha affirmed.

I nodded and agreed, "She uses it for night terrors, she can have that."

The medic quickly there together a brew containing the roots of the yellow flower. She was careful to not include any of the petals. Sigyn had once explained to me a long time ago that those dainty yellow petals were deadly. I was thankful for the medic's attentiveness to this detail. As I held Sigyn's head up gently, Hertha and the woman carefully poured the gelsemium potion into Sigyn's mouth. Almost instantly, she went limp in my arms as her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

"Oh god," Hertha cried quietly, "Please don't die. Please, please, don't die."

The medic worked quickly. With my fingers pressed to Sigyn's wrist, I took count of her heartbeat assuring that each and every pitter-patter ran smoothly. I watched as the medic stuffed small pieces of organic cotton into Sigyn's wounds to soak up the blood. With a glowing hand, she was able to cauterize veins before she hastily sewed up every entry point. Before long, Sigyn's torso looked like a young child's craft project-randomly stitched up in every which way. But none of that mattered, the bleeding had stopped and she was made whole.

Sitting back, the medic wiped her hands, "She should be alright," she said, prompting a sigh of relief to sound from all the women who had dropped everything to aid us.

Taking the medic's hand, I grappled for the words to express my gratitude. Through her powers and expertise, my wife's life had been spared. I owed her the world and more. But all I could utter was, "Thank you."