Sigyn, Gudinna Trogen (sigyn) wrote in history_dot_com, @ 2012-03-05 00:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | ~loki, ~sigyn |
Bending the Rules [several years after incarceration] (tag: Loki)
It was cold. It was always cold. Her fingers were so cold they were numb, which should have been a blessing in disguise. It should have made it impossible to feel, but she did. Sigyn ached, from the base of her spine outwards, she ached. It ran down the backs of her legs, which sometimes trembled from the angle at which she had to stand. It ran up to her shoulders then down her arms, her muscles burning from holding still in the same position for hours. Her back itself felt like one giant hurting knot tied around the bones of her spine. But worst of all were her fingers.
It had surprised her, because when her back first started aching, she thought that would be the worst of it, she really did. When her legs and arms started hurting, it was really just an extension of her back. But her fingers? Her fingers were a persecution all their own. They were always cold. Always. Beyond cold. They were frozen. No position that moved them to on the bowl relieved the cramping in the joints. And after she'd nearly dropped the bowl once, she'd held it even tighter since, to the point of digging her nails into the side to be sure. Sometimes, between the cold and the pressure, her fingers would bleed. There were days, Sigyn no longer felt like her fingers were part of her body. They were torture devices that had been attached to her hands, just something else she had to bear.
But in a way she was grateful for the pain. It was a distraction. It made it possible to focus on something other than the gaping hole in her heart where her boys should be. Her sons were gone. They had been taken from her by neighbors, people that claimed to be her friends, people she'd seen every day. And all she was left with was this endless loss and infinite loneliness. And the pain in her body. And a husband that barely spoke to her.
Sigyn thought she understood. She thought he felt guilty and was internalizing. At least, that's what she kept telling herself to keep from feeling as though he was blaming her. There were so many things she should have done differently. Maybe if she had, she'd still have her boys. But second-guessing wasn't going to bring them back. Or make her husband want to talk to her.
She stared at the entrance, watching the cold rain falling outside. Sigyn knew that in but a moment the wind would pick up and send a cold gust into the cave. Her frozen fingers would probably not feel it, but it would go up the sleeves of her dress and right down her back. It was always so cold. Even in summer. She was going to be cold forever. It was a horridly depressing thought, and she hadn't imagined that she could feel any lower.
Sigyn sighed and muttered aloud, “Something has to change.”