Sigyn's Discovery (Part 1)

Replies (LOKI)

I had no appetite and ignored the tray Thyra brought me. Once I was certain no one else roamed the halls of the noble floor, I left Odin's room for the comfort of the bell tower. At least I could breathe up there.

Would Theoric wait days to recover from my admonishment and ask for her hand, or mere hours? The thought that they were together while I pined alone nearly drove me mad. I paced back and forth in my perch above the city, angry with the red-gold star that flickered in my periphery, cursing Mother for putting Sigyn in my path if I couldn't have her. I cursed Odin, too, for refusing to honor me as I deserved, which meant I had no choice but to perform the ceremony myself. I cursed Thor for how easily he got whatever he wanted, whether it was the crown or a woman, while I fought so hard for the respect to have both. Above all, I cursed myself—for if I'd only told Sigyn what went on in my mind those months ago, we might be staring at the stars together and planning our own happy future.

But a happy future was in itself a false dream to hope for. I didn't deserve happiness, just as I didn't deserve her. Odin's swift sentence when I returned from Midgard sealed my fate in the eyes of Asgard's elite. The far-off possibility that perhaps, someday, my children might triumph from Thor's shadow and bring me honor was lost with the thought that they'd forever be blemished by my name.

I dropped my Odin façade and faced the Bifrost, leaning with my fists against the balcony. My hair fell in my face, but I did nothing to remove it, ashamed to show my real face in Frigga's direction. The soft green canvas of my tunic breathed enough so I could feel the wind, though it didn't bear a temperature. It was a quiet night in the courtyard, not teeming with the usual midnight party, which would've been welcome if it didn't make me pique my ears to any sudden yelp of joy from her voice at Theoric's question. I prayed, even if it did happen that night, it would escape me and I wouldn't have to live with the knowledge for longer than necessary.

I should've startled when she stomped up the stairs behind me. Should've panicked or ignited my disguise, but I did nothing. Emotion made me numb. Even if I hadn't been certain it was her, I welcomed my discovery as a means to end my misery.

Sigyn bit me with her shouting. "Have you gone completely mad?"

I sank my head even lower, refusing to turn and face her. "I've wondered that myself lately."

She stood at my back, angrily panting. "Every time I think I've escaped your games, another one appears."

"A game?" I scoffed. "None of this is a game to me."

"Isn't it?" She sniffled, every so often stuttering over a breath. "Look at me."

I shook my head and walked around the perimeter of the balcony instead.

"All I want is the truth, Loki." Her tight hand gripped my right shoulder and forced me to turn.

With my brow furrowed and eyes teary, I searched her face for motive. She was hard to find beneath the streaks of black falling down her cheeks—decorations washed away while crying. Sigyn's lip quivered with persistent upset, though her expression was difficult to place. Rage? Loathing?

"What truth is that?" I asked, barely raising my volume enough to be heard above the wind.

She clenched her jaw for a moment, barely blinking. "Why do you fear him?"

"Fear him?"

"Yes. You feared Theoric before we were even together. Asked me if I'd ever spoken with him in the great hall. Yet you knew about the Allfather's command of the Crimson Hawks. Something tells me another man wouldn't have invited so much ire from you. What is it about him?"