The Lost Asgardian (Loki)

The Death

The gravity of her words hung between them, suffusing the air with a palpable sense of dread. Sigyn's heart pounded in her chest as she grappled with the implications of Thor's inquiry, the realization of the danger she had narrowly escaped sending shivers down her spine. In that moment, the shadow of uncertainty loomed large, casting a long shadow over the fragile threads of her reality.
A gruff nod from the god of thunder confirmed this. "Did Loki hand you the goblet?"
"Why would you ask-"

"Did he hand you the damned goblet!?" Thor snapped impatiently; his eyes wild. Thunder roared in the distance, rivaling the mighty noise of even the powerful lord Zeus himself. This was Thor's fury unleashed, his current mood sparking lightning in the air.
Sigyn's lip trembled as she shook her head, a nagging sense of unease settling over her. Yet, amidst the turmoil of her thoughts, a peculiar realization dawned upon her. The last memory she held of Loki was his guilt-stricken gaze as she fell into Balder's arms. A shiver ran down her spine. "You believe Loki poisoned me?" she whispered; her voice heavy with disbelief.
Thor's silence was deafening, his gaze piercing as he watched her closely. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. "He would never harm me! I am insulted you have reached such a conclusion!" she protested, though doubt gnawed at the edges of her resolve. Why had Loki looked so guilty?
"I agree, he would not harm you," Thor conceded, his brow furrowing in deep thought. His words hung heavy in the air, pregnant with unspoken implications. "But you were not the target of the engagement ceremony."
Sigyn's eyes widened in confusion, her mind reeling with unanswered questions. "Why would someone sedate me to sleep...?"
Thor slumped in his chair, a shadow of his former self. His weariness spoke volumes, casting a pall of unease over Sigyn's fragile composure. Where was everyone? Where was her family? Loki? Sif? Even Balder... The absence of answers loomed ominously, casting a dark shadow over the uncertainty that engulfed them both. What was wrong that the immortal looking so distraught? "To answer your question Sigyn, I believe you were poisoned to remove you from the path of real danger," said Thor in a whisper, his eyes wide and unblinking as he stared into empty space.
"I do not understand."

"You know the tale of Balder foreseeing his own demise, years previously," Thor muttered, still unblinking his eyes. This was not a question as much as it was a statement.
Sigyn frowned. She had no real idea what this had to do with anything. As the tale among the handmaidens went, young Balder bound for immortality had once prophesied his own demise in a dream.
Or, rather, nightmare. Therefore, the superstitious Frigga wanting more than anything to save the treasured Balder, devised a plan. She performed a ceremony where every individual in all Asgard was forced to attend. Everyone was to take an oath so as not to harm him. Twas a silly ritual given immortals could only die using daggers of Delphi or by few other means to die, but Queen Frigga was adamant. She wanted no harm to come to the sweet Balder.
Sigyn frowned, puzzled by the connection between her sleeping spell and Balder's fate. "What does the tale of Balder have to do with my sleeping spell?" she inquired, her brow furrowing.
"Balder's death will bring upon Ragnarok," Thor revealed in a breath, his voice barely above a whisper, his expression grave.

Sigyn nearly snorted in disbelief. "Ragnarok? Are you serious?" She shook her head, unable to fathom how such ancient myths could hold any relevance in their present reality. "I thought you were too old for fairy tales, my friend."
Thor's countenance darkened, his features drawn with seriousness. "Ragnarok is no mere fairy-tale, Sigyn. It is a prophecy foretold by the Norns themselves, a cataclysmic event that will herald the end of Asgard and all the realms."
Sigyn still looked in disbelief.

Think it through." Thor challenged without meeting her eye. "Think of the humans of Midgard. Tis foretold in their distant future they will no longer worship gods and goddesses, only specific religion. They will forget everyone and everything their ancestors once held dear in regard to the immortals they currently worship. Tell me, simply because something seems too surreal to be considered true, does it make it such?"
Sigyn's green eyes widened, a flicker of realization crossing her features as she took in Thor's words. Never had she seen this depth in him, this seriousness that seemed to weigh heavily upon his broad shoulders. Here and now, he appeared different, transformed from the lovable buffoon she had always known into something more profound. Despite his downcast demeanor, there was a maturity to him that she couldn't ignore, a gravity that commanded her attention.