centre of the universe - the dreaming: Breeze

09/17/2008: "Breeze" "You who are my brother," he said, his voice the shush of water over sand, "you command me? I think you overestimate our kinship."

"Still. You came." Marek grunted through clenched teeth.

"So it would appear. To what do I owe the invitation and this ...warm... welcome?"

Marek whipped the crushed leather pouch at his brother. It struck his chest and landed in his outstretched palm. Around them the dust storm roared, sent lightning crackling through the air. Between them, it was quiet, but for Loki gently caressing the little bag. He smiled, drawing thin lips over his pointed teeth.

"Ah. Did your wife" he spat, "enjoy my gift?"

"You cannot have her."

"I have neither want nor need of her."

"That has never stopped you before."

"She's yours, brother. Yours to keep. For as long as you want her. May I go?"

"You may not!" Marek shouted, punctuating each word.

"Then?"

"Undo it."

"Undo what?"

"Don't play games with me."

"I assure you, brother, my games are much more fun. In fact, one can tell when one is playing one of my games."

Marek took a step toward him, closing the distance between them. He rose a full head higher than his brother, and dwarfed Loki in his own shadow. "You will go in there, and you will end this spell. You will leave this place then, and only then."

"There is no..."

"LOKI." Marek thundered as sand pelted his brother. Loki raised his arm to protect his face from the flying debris. "You are in my domain. You answer to my will here. Remove the spell."

Loki nodded meekly and stepped away from Marek, toward the house. He staggered against the wind, gasping as the breath was torn from him and his mouth and nose were filled with sand and grit. He reached forward with his other arm, unsure how far away he was. As he reached the gaping doorway, he heard her screams breaking through the storm.

Dust had swirled through the cracks between window and pane, down through the flue, spreading ash with it as it filled the chimney. It piled inside the door, leaving skittering dunes snaking their way across the floor. Loki followed the sound of Maeve's screeching, through the little kitchen to the place beside the table where she clawed at the floor, her fingers again raw and bleeding. He knelt on one knee before her and reached for her face.

"A Letter I Had to Write Today" "Wow"

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