Sigyn's Discovery (Part 1)

Invisible Connection (SIGYN)

My thoughts were filled with him. He haunted me. Followed me everywhere. My visions of Loki were so frequent, I was convinced the gods above wished we spent more time together.

Most of the scenes that played in my head took place in Frigga's room, since that was the only place I'd seen him close up as an adult. More than once, I dreamed about the night I discovered his secret, though it was distinctly different from reality.

In my mind's eye, I inched away from him on the bed as he sat at my side, all too aware how unworthy I was of his proximity. Even when a figment of my imagination, Loki's regal and smooth motion put me in a trance. His hair shined and trailed forward off his shoulder. Was I in danger, or did a spell make the world around him hazy?

If I could've changed fate and forced the dream to show me impossible things, like reciprocal admiration, I might've confessed that my interest in him was more amatory than of obligation. Yet even in a vision, it was inappropriate.

As if he could read my mind, Loki leaned forward and placed his slender index finger before his lips in a shush. His other hand drew ever closer—so stealthily, I scarcely knew it moved at all.

He gripped my forearms in a surprise attack, forcing a gasp from me. My heartbeat thumped wildly—from his strike and his touch. While I attempted to retreat, he pulled my arms parallel in front and inched his face so close to mine, I could smell him. His breath reminded me of hot rock after rain. Distinctly chilly. Icy enough to sprout goosebumps all over my skin.

With palpable anger, he hissed, "You know I could kill you now, you fiend, for finding me out. What right do you think you have? Why should I spare your life?"

Terrified, I shut my eyes and prayed he'd leave me be. Tears trickled down my face. I couldn't decide if my hands were better clenched into fists or wide open in surrender.

The overwhelming truth of our existence tainted his words. "What could you possibly have that I want?" His deep voice dripped from his lips like honey, though I wished his words were half as sweet.

My stomach rolled over. "I have n-nothing to give, My Lord."

"Then watch me as I decide your fate. Open your eyes."

I couldn't. If I saw his face in anger, it would be too real. Real like the laughter that still echoed in my ears. Real like the frantic rhythm pounding in my chest. Real like his tight grip on my arms that made my fingertips tingle...

"Look at me!"

"No!" I shot up in bed, awakened by my dream and a noise at the door. Tiwaz wandered in from another night of prowling, purring loudly enough that I heard him across the room. Even now, as I distractedly beckoned the cat to my lap, I stroked my forearms in an attempt to remember the sensation of Loki's cool hands upon my skin.

How much of it had been a dream, how much a wish, and how much a memory?

***

Two and a half weeks passed of bringing unfinished meals to False Odin. We had no more private meetings—since the last time we spoke directly, he kept his word and lit the foyer more. A small table inside was designated for my nightly offerings, and there was no need to discuss my duties further. When I wasn't attending to his needs, I assisted the rest of the servantry with large parties in the kitchen to stay busy, since sitting alone in my room would make my nightmares worse.

However, one such evening marked an important anniversary, and I opted not to volunteer that night. Instead, after delivering my final tray to Odin's foyer, I paused in front of Frigga's chamber on the trek home. From left to right, I searched the hall to make sure no one watched me and knelt before the tall doors to pray. Once my quiet incantation was over, I placed a small bouquet of blue flowers at the base of the door. It was a meager token at best, but all I could give to honor the dead.