How to get away with murder

The scene

Note: A Crimson Hawk is a soldier, a member of Odin's guards

Red.

Everywhere red.

Everything was red.

Red was her carpet.

Red were her walls.

Red was her furniture, her chairs, her bed.

Red was her dress.

Red were her hands. Probably her face too, but Sigyn did not dare to look into a mirror.

How did it all happen? How did she let this happen?

She did not know.

However, lately, everything had started going awfully wrong, but she could not exactly point out where it all started...

When she was born, her mother had not wanted to hold her in her arms. Her lover, her father, had abandoned them both, and she could not face the child of such a traitor. She had tried sending the baby to the man in question, but he had laughed and refused. So, her grandfather had taken her in.

Njord had been an hostage on Asgard for several millennia, since the defeat of the Vanir armies, but seemed to be well treated, the All-Father seeing him more like a family member than a prisoner.

And so, Sigyn was raised alongside the two sons of Odin : Thor and Loki. She loved them both dearly, though she had to admit she had more in common with the second prince. Both of them loved books, and the All-Mother had taken them as her apprentices, teaching them magic. Sometimes, when one mastered a spell better than the other, they would take some time alone in the garden, and explain to each other how to do it until they both succeeded.

Frigga was proud of her students, and hoped for the best for them both. They were a lovely pair, and to her, it was obvious they would make quite the happy couple, and possibly Asgard's future.

Time passed, and they both grew up. Sigyn had always thought her feelings for Loki were based on friendship only, but when she saw him one day kissing some blonde girl called Amora, she flew from the scene, before crashing on her bed in tears.

Oh, not friendship then. Love. Romantic, all-consuming, overwhelming love. Full of devotion... and hopeless. She knew it, even before accepting it. Loki was a prince of Asgard, and a potential heir to the throne. He was devilishly handsome, clever, and one of the best sorcerer in the Nine realms. While she was.. nobody. A bastard, whose parents did not even want. Sure, her grandfather had been a king once, but though the All-Father liked him well enough, he had no power. Had she been as pretty and attractive as Amora, she could have hoped he would take notice of her in that way, and ask her to become his concubine. Sigyn shivered at the idea. Of course, she loved him, but could she truly lower herself that much? She knew as a bastard she could not hope for a better position, and yet, maybe it was her royal blood roaring with pride, and refusing to let her become anyone's whore – not even to the man she loved.

Anyway, he would never ask her anything of the kind, as he did not see her as a potential romantic partner, and that was fine. Their friendship was comfortable, wonderful – they got along so well, laughing at the same jokes, loving the same things, and understanding each other, even without talking. Well, except for her silly little heart. She would have to shut it up, every time she would see Loki with a new lover in his arms.

Fine. That was fine.

These days, they were more often with Thor and his friends, the Warriors three and the fierce Lady Sif. At first, she thought she had nothing in common with the beautiful warrior. She was a noble lady when Sigyn, as a bastard, was seen as little more than a commoner; she was tall and comely, when Sigyn was short and chubby; she was gifted with the sword and despised magic, when Sigyn was clumsy with weapons and loved the magical arts.