#my brain can’t decide to go for horn knee or if to choose violence sighs

[cozy-the-overlord]

Dances and Daggers

Summary:   The Summer Festival is upon Asgard, as is the tradition of the dagger ceremony, where each unmarried gentleman chooses a lady to bestow with the honor of carrying his dagger for the night. As Prince Thor’s betrothed, Teki’s only goal is to accept his dagger with grace and hope that her violent stepfather doesn’t find fault with her in the process. But Prince Thor is unpredictable, and when he ignores his engagement on a whim Teki finds herself in a desperate situation. Luckily, Thor isn’t the only prince in Asgard…

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character

Chapter 15: The Truth

Previous Chapter  |  Next Chapter

Word Count: 3,000

Chapter Summary: Teki finally gets answers.

A/N:  The beginning of this chapter turned out decidedly more Mockingjay than I intended ... that wasn’t on purpose, but I guess it’s fine. Also, we’re nearing the end, guys! I can’t believe we’ve only got three chapters left :(

Thanks for reading!

TW: Mentions of violence, child abuse

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @moumouton4 @berriemalfoy @whatafuckingdumbass

if you want to be tagged, feel free to just send me an ask/message! :)

Read it on Ao3!

Teki had wings.

Big, beautiful wings, more ornate than any butterfly, sprouting from her back and extending high above her head, a kaleidoscope of different colors swirling around her as she soared higher and higher into the paint-splattered sky. She flew with the ease of one who had flown all her life, drifting down the air currents and landing to rest on a gossamer cloud, so high in the atmosphere that when she peered over the edge she couldn’t even see the ground.

It’s real! she thought as she floated so far above the world, I’ll have to tell Brant!

For a while, she was safe on her cloud, breathing in the crisp air of a world beyond concerns, her gorgeous wings basking in the glow of a billion little stars.

Until she wasn’t.

Without warning, the cloud dissipated from beneath her and she was tumbling head over heels down to the fast approaching terrain, nothing to grab on to, nothing to stop it. Her wings turned to dust at her side. Gravity cackled as her final scream ripped from her lungs.

Her eyes popped open. Her vision was awash with a burning orange light, but she didn’t need to see to feel the cold metal pressing around her neck. In a rush, she remembered Osvald’s hand at her throat, squeezing tighter and tighter. She clawed at the metallic piece, gasping in a frenzy, but it didn’t budge.

What did he do? What did he put on me?

A figure appeared in her periphery, hands reaching out towards her throat. Teki shrieked—or she tried to, at least. The sound that came from her mouth was rough and weak, more like a harsh gasp than a proper scream, but the effort of it seemed to tear her vocal chords to shreds. She coughed uncontrollably, even as she writhed away from the reaching hands.

“Lady Tekla, calm down, you’re safe.” The figure held her wrists down, pulling them away from her neck. “Don’t try to speak. Just breathe, my lady. You’re in the healing ward. You’re safe.”

Gulping, Teki laid back. She was in the healing ward, wasn’t she?  She recognized the golden lights on the ceiling. The woman sitting next her was draped in blue robes, smiling reassuringly. But… why was she here? In all the times Teki had gone to the healers after something Osvald had done, she had never stayed longer than a few hours. Her hands returned to the metal thing at her neck.

“What—” she rasped before the healer hushed her once again.

“Don’t try to talk,” she said firmly. “Not for a little while. Not until your throat has been healed. Your injuries were severe enough that we were concerned about overwhelming your body if we attempted to heal them all at once. We decided to focus on your ribcage first.”

Teki’s hands flew to her abdomen. The burning pain that set her chest on fire was nowhere to be found. She heaved a sigh of relief.

“We’re going to give you a bit of time to recover from the exhaustion of the healing before we work on your neck,” the woman continued. “Until then, you’ll have to wear this brace, to keep things from getting worse. You understand that?”

Teki jerked her head, as much of a nod as she could manage. A part of her brain still felt as if it were floating in the clouds. Had that all been a dream? She couldn’t wait to tell Brant about—

Brant!

She shot up again, this time coughing out her brother’s name. Once more, the healer shushed her, pushing her back into the pillow.

“Brant is fine,” she assured. “He just had a bit of a bump on his head, but he recovered .” She pulled the covers back over Teki’s chest. “You’re very lucky your stepfather got there when he did.”

Teki froze. What?

The healer didn’t seem to notice her bewilderment. She only patted her knee. “I’ll be back to check on you in a bit,” she said. “Try to get some sleep.”

She watched the woman in blue walk away with a tightness wrapped around her heart. Of course her mother would never tell the truth about what happened inside their apartment. But Teki could only ponder what possible story she had told instead.

Luckily, this wasn’t a mystery for long. Her mother came to visit that afternoon, seemingly with the sole purpose of coaching her on what to say happened.

“You opened the apartment door to find an intruder,” she whispered huskily into Teki’s ear. “He demanded you bring him all the jewelry in the apartment. When you refused, he attacked. You screamed, Osvald ran in, and rescued you and Brant. The intruder fled. You understand that?”

Teki only stared blankly into the distance. It was just a lie, just another lie she had to tell to maintain her mother’s dream. Really, it was no different than what she had been doing her whole life. But there was a sour taste in her mouth that had nothing to do with her injuries. She wanted her to paint Osvald as the hero. She wanted her to be thankful for him, to praise him…

Her mother bristled at her silence.

“You realize how important this is?” she hissed, leaning in. “If the royal court thought there was something wrong with our family, they’d throw us out. Void your marriage contract, take our apartment, and abandon us. Do you know what I’ve had to do to get us to this point?”

Empty vials flashed through her mind.

I have an idea.

Áslaug huffed. “Are you truly so selfish that you’d destroy all of our lives—you’d destroy your brother’s life—just because you don’t want to do something?”

Teki turned away, as much as she could with the brace. Including Brant was low and her mother damn well knew it. Had she always been this manipulative, and Teki was only now seeing it?

With a sigh, her mother rose. “I have to go,” she said emotionlessly. “I hope you feel better tomorrow.”

Teki watched her glide from the room without a sound, the picture of dignity. There was something different in the air, something heavy. Even as Teki tried to relax into her pillow, it weighed on her chest, pulling her deeper and deeper away from the golden lights, until the glow of the healing ward had been replaced with something far more prismatic.

The Rainbow Bridge still gleamed at night, but it was a quieter sort of gleaming. There was no horseback riding this time, no princely arm wrapped around her waist, just Teki and her unhurried step, her shift fluttering around her knees in the spectral breeze.

The path to Himinbjorg was miles long, yet Teki crossed it barefoot in a heartbeat. A figure stood in the center of the golden dome, a horned silhouette that seemed not to have budged one bit since the last time she had walked through those doors.

You’re not asking the right question, he had said. She had stormed out in frustration. What question could he want? What question could possibly be more direct than “where is he?”

But now, she understood. When Heimdall turned, his armor glittering with the reflection of the moon-kissed night, she spoke before he could even open his mouth.

How did my father die?

The gatekeeper said nothing. He lifted the great sword and settled it into the mouth of the platform as the lightning crackled. Around them, the Bifrost whirred to life, burning brighter, brighter, brighter…

Teki blinked when the light holding her in place dissipated without warning, washing her surroundings away with it.

She was standing in the living room. Her living room, on the first story of her family’s apartment. And yet, it was different. The olive curtains hadn’t yet been changed to garnet, a decision that followed Teki’s engagement announcement. The couch hadn’t yet been reupholstered. Instead of her mother’s liquor cabinet, a piano lay nestled in the corner.

The dinner table was set for two. On one end, her mother fussed with the cutlery, her silky hair running down her back in an elegant braid. She ran her fingers across the rim of her goblet, expression distant and unreadable. She perked up when the stairs creaked, someone shuffling down from the upstairs bedrooms. The man turned the corner with a casual stride, pushing the hair out of his muddy brown eyes with hands that Teki had once covered with hers, long ago when she would curl up in his lap on the piano bench and breathe in his soft melodies. Her heart caught in her throat.

Daddy…

She tried to run to him, hug him, call to him, please, but she remained glued in her spot on the other side of the table, her voice frozen in her throat. The scene before her had already played out. Teki could only watch.

Still, her eyes burned with pinpricks of tears as he stood just beyond her reach. Daddy, her mind cried as her father surveyed the room, Daddy, I’m right here.

Steinn didn’t hear her. He stopped just before the table, eyebrows raised as he studied the display before him. Her mother beamed up at him with her angelic grin.

“Good evening,” she smiled.

He hesitated for a moment, searching her face for... something. Teki wasn’t sure what. Nor could she tell whether he found it there.

Still, he sank into his seat. “Good evening.”

Áslaug reached for the plate of bread without taking her eyes off her husband. “Is she in bed?” she asked conversationally.

He nodded. “Yes. Fast asleep already.” A smile ghosted at his lips as he cut his meat, mirrored on Teki’s face. Me! He’s talking about me! “It was a big day for her.”

Her mother shook her head. “You spend too much time in town with her.”

“At least I spend time with her.”

They lapsed into silence. Steinn fumbled around with his food, very pointedly avoiding his wife’s gaze. Áslaug didn’t move. She seemed to be waiting for something.

When that something never came, she inhaled with artificial cheeriness. “How’s your writing coming along?”

“Well enough.” He took a gulp of his wine, then with a sigh turned to look at her. “Áslaug, you’re wasting your time.”

She cocked her head, still smiling. “Am I?”

“I’m not signing off on that proposal.”

Teki’s mother huffed. “I don’t understand why not. You’re always so concerned with Tekla’s well-being. I can’t imagine anything that would better safeguard her future than a marriage to the future king.”

He groaned. “You want to force a lifelong role on to her before she can even write her own name—”

“You’re being dramatic!” she snapped, waving her hands above her head. Teki flinched. “What if she wants it? What if she wants to be queen? What if we’re depriving her of a dream?”

“She’s a child. Right now, her dreams consist of flower picking and extra slices of cake.” Steinn rolled his eyes, taking another sip of wine. “She’s not capable of making that decision yet, and I have no intention of making it for her.”

“You are making it for her! You’re taking away her chance at royalty—”

“And you’re taking away her ability to control her destiny. Are you truly so desperate to mother a queen that you’ll run the risk of forcing her into a position she doesn’t want, married to a man she doesn’t love, trapped for the rest of her life?” He laughed bitterly, wiping the sweat from his brow. “I thought you of all people would understand what that’s like.”

Áslaug glared at him. “My father worked hard to get this offer from Odin. Do you know how many strings he had to pull, how many favors he had to cash in to—”

“I couldn’t care less.” Her father’s cheeks were flushed. He wiped his brow again before continuing with conviction. “She’s my daughter. I won’t agree to it.”

“Very well.” The statement was resigned, but her mother stared at him with a sort of barely masked excitement. His hands were trembling.

“Are you feeling all right, Steinn?” she asked, leaning forward delicately on her knuckles.

Her father looked up abruptly. “What?”

“How are you feeling?” Áslaug leaned her head to the side. Her voice was still innocent, but her smile was quickly morphing into a smirk. Teki’s stomach gurgled with dread. “A tad warm, perhaps? Chills? A bit of a headache?”

Steinn’s eyes widened. He jerked away from the table. “What did you do?”

“Nothing much.” She pulled the empty vial from within her dress, rolling it between her fingers. “Just gave your wine a bit of flavoring. Embers of Frost. It’s all the rage, I’m told. The woman I got it from said it would be lethal in half an hour.”

It seemed to dawn at him all at once. In a panic, her father stumbled to his feet, knocking the chair over in his haste to reach the door. Teki whipped back to her mother, who seemed unbothered in her seat, a smug grin on her face.

The door swung open before Steinn had the chance to twist the knob. Teki’s blood ran cold as Osvald stepped into the room, calm as can be as he blocked the exist, his eyes glittering like volcanic rocks. Her father lurched backwards.

“Steinn,” Áslaug called out from the dinner table. Her voice dripped with false regard. “I’d like to introduce a dear friend of mine, Lord Osvald Audinson.”

Her father surveyed his successor with wild eyes, sweat dripping down his temples. “Which one are you?” he asked.

Osvald grabbed his shoulders. “The only one that matters.”

Teki nearly screamed when her stepfather jerked him to the side, but instead of tossing him into the wall, he simply steered him back into the table and plopped him into his seat like a rag doll. Osvald remained standing behind the chair, a villainous snake posed to strike. Steinn’s collar was soaked. He shook profusely as his wife stood.

“Now, my sweet husband, I do have the antidote right here”— Áslaug brought out the burgundy vial, shaking it between her fingers like a toy rattle. Teki’s father lunged for it, but Osvald yanked him back, holding him to the chair—“which I would be quite happy to share with you if you would just be so kind as to take my dictation for me.”

He was gulping air now. “What dictation?”

Áslaug pushed aside the dinner plates, sliding an inkwell and a sheet of blank paper before him. “We’re separating, darling. You’re dissolving this marriage right here and now so we can both move on with our lives.”

“All this for a queen?” he panted, leaning against the table for support. “You’ve gone mad!”

“And you’re going to be dead soon if you don’t do what I say.” She tapped the page. Reluctantly, Steinn took the pen in his shaking hand. “Now, write this: I, Steinn Kjellson…” She went on, reading from a folded page in her hand as he struggled to keep up with her words. When she got to the part addressed directly to Teki, he stiffened.

She rolled her eyes. “What’s wrong now?”

“You—” he choked on his words. “Áslaug, please. You think about her—Teki—you take care of her—”

He sounded so broken. Teki tried to reach out to him again, blinking the tears from her eyes. How many times had her mother tried to tell her that he left because he didn’t love her? Because he didn’t want to see her again? And here he was, even at the end, begging for her safety and her well-being.

I’m sorry Daddy, she sobbed in her silent prison. I love you so much. I’m sorry. She prayed that somehow, he could hear her.

But he only groaned when Osvald smacked the back of his head. “You’re running out of time, friend.”

Straining, Steinn finished the last few lines.

Teki’s mother scanned it, nodding approvingly. “Good. Now sign it.”

He did so, a scribbled signature that left him absolutely breathless.

“There.” His skin was slick with sweat, his chest heaving up and down as he collapsed into the chair. “The antidote. Please.”

She turned the vial between her fingertips, picking at the wax holding the cork in place. A horrible smile stretched across her cheeks.

Teki knew what was coming, but still she shook with silent sobs. Don’t do it. Mama, please don’t do it…

“I think not.”

Steinn shrieked in horror. “Áslaug!”

“You made your bed, darling.” Her mother turned to walk away. “Now sleep in it.”

Her father sat there for a moment, eyes bugging out of his head. One last gasp, he lunged for her mother across the table. He didn’t even make it out of his seat before Osvald had him in a chokehold.

Teki couldn’t look away fast enough.

She screamed at the sickening snap, at the thud that echoed through her bones as her father fell to floor. She was still screaming when the scene faded away into the night as she came to, thrashing in a knotted mess of bedsheets and nightclothes, her throat burning something horrible as the harsh sound ripped from within.

They killed him! They killed him!

Besides her, someone made a gentle shushing noise she barely heard over the sound of the blood rushing to her head. Cold hands hovered at her side, holding her flailing arms to the mattress.

“Teki,” a familiar voice whispered, tinged with fear. “Teki, it’s all right. It was only a dream. You’re safe.”

The sound cut through her panic like a silver knife. Teki turned to the right, wondering if she was still somehow trapped in her mind. But there was nothing imaginary about the emerald eyes that shone through the dark.

Her heart leapt.

Loki.