Winter's Hearts

Chapter 39

You watched the man's expression. It changed from hopeful when you woke. You watched his expression fall, saw the light leave his eyes as pain entered. Saw his disbelief, his horror, his heartbreak as tears filled his eyes and he took in your words. He settled on disbelief for a moment. "It's me, Loki, your husband," he told you gently, hoping against hope that that would be enough. You saw the heartbreak and sorrow return when his words sparked no recognition in you.

It broke your heart too, to see this man so sad. You didn't like him being upset.

You didn't like the tears in his eyes.

You hated more how he buried those emotions to take care of you. To reassure you.

"I-husband-I'm sorry- I," you tried to process that. It didn't sound wrong but you didn't remember either. You really tried to remember, but all you could remember was the awful snapping, feeling in your mind as something within you shattered.

Also apparently English, or whatever language you were speaking.

Loki pulled you into his arms. You should have stiffened. Should have questioned or felt unsafe. But... he felt like home. His hug felt like home. "Shh, Kyrie, my love. It's alright. Everything will be alright," he promised. "We'll get you home and sort all of this out," he added, holding you safe in his arms and stroking your hair. Your arms wrapped around him. He just... felt like home. It was impossible to understand. You didn't remember him, but it felt right.

He let you go and got to his feet, helping you stand a moment later. You were wearing armor. You both were. And had weapons. You saw your wrist. A tattoo? And Loki's name, stylized and in sigil form, but it was definitely Loki's name on your arm. Apparently you also remembered how to read and how to read sigils. That was useful. "What-?" You started, staring at the familiar tattoo. A tattoo you felt...pride in. Was it pride? It felt like pride. That didn't make any sense.

Why would you be proud of a tattoo?

Why would you be proud to have this man's name etched in your skin?

Loki shook his head. "Don't worry about that now, love. Let me take care of you for once," he bid you gently. You didn't know what else to do, so you nodded and let Loki wrap an arm around your shoulders. You were in some kind of warehouse with lots of computers and equipment. There were also six other people standing around nearby in various costumes? armor? Superheroes, your mind supplied from... somewhere.

"Brother?" The big man with the hammer asked, looking concerned.

Loki's arm around your shoulder tightened protectively. "Let's get her home. We'll figure everything out there," Loki replied instead of answering his brother's question.

The brother nodded. "Take her home. We will take care of things here," he replied.

Loki turned his attention back to you. "Hold on tight, love. I'm going to teleport us home," he told you gently. You wrapped your arms around him, inexplicably trusting this man. Though he said he was your husband, and you saw the matching rings on your left hands. He was telling the truth.

Magic shimmered around you and it felt so familiar and your stomach did the same familiar drop as you disappeared from the strange creepy warehouse and reappeared in a brightly lit living room.

Loki took a step back and looked over you, concerned. "Are you alright, love?" He asked as he looked you over with a healer's eye, looking for injuries. You started to nod. You were sore and aching, but nothing terribly bad. Except you saw the electrical burn marks on your body. On his too. Loki huffed in loving exasperation. "You can't even remember your own name, and you are still self sacrificing," he told you lovingly, and warmly and led you to one of the nearby couches. He sat you down and summoned a jar of some kind of medicated ointment. You could smell the medication in it and feel the healing spells.

"Please, tell me what's going on," you begged him softly as he applied the ointment to the electrical burns.

"It's a long story, my love," he told you as he worked, but he didn't stop talking. "Do you remember anything?" He asked gently, looking for a place to start.

You thought again, but shook your head. "Just something snapping in my brain," you tried to explain. "Like I'd been pulled too thin and something snapped,"

He nodded and his expression was gentle and reassuring as he worked on the burns with the ointment which you couldn't help relaxing at the relief you felt at the medicated ointment. "It'll be alright, love," he reassured you. "I'll start at the beginning, and I swear I will not lie to you, no matter how strange the tale sounds. Your name is Y/N, daughter of Sigun. You're a Valkyrie of Asgard and my wife. You're also half Jotun, frost giant. So you can't touch the mortals. Anyone here besides the big oaf with the hammer and myself," he told you. His story did sound crazy, but you saw the tattoo again and had a flash of recognition. It was the mark of the Valkyrie.

"And I'm sworn to your service..." you surmised, based on the tattoo and the sigil of his name on your arm. It sounded right, even if you didn't remember.

He sighed in the same tone of loving exasperation. "You remember nothing and still are focused on your duty," he told you lovingly. You heard the love and caring. You saw how he was doing everything in his power to take care of you. "Yes, you're sworn to my service, but more important to me is that you're my wife and I love you more than anything. We've been living on Midgard and helping a team of heroes here. Today, we went on a mission to investigate a warehouse that was supposed to be just a spy mission. It was a trap to make you bring back someone from the dead," he told you gently.

"But... I can't bring people back from the dead,"

Loki nodded sadly. "You're a Valkyrie. You can bring them back if they are very newly dead, but the man they made you bring back had been dead for over 70 years. It should have been impossible. It should have killed you to even try. But they made you do it to save my life," he told you with helpless tears in his eyes.

You didn't know why.

You didn't understand.

But you had to move, had to pull this man into your arms, had to hold him close as the contact soothed you both. You stroked his hair, breathing in his comforting scent that reminded you of mint and a crisp winter's day. You held him tightly and reassuringly.

"I'm here," you promised him. It was all you could say to reassure him.

You didn't think it would be enough, when you couldn't remember.