This story will only be two or three parts. It's a quick mini series I'm throwing together for fun. This story is also available on tumblr and AO3, both accounts also named justfandomwritings, as a reader insert story with some minor edits. Hope you enjoy! Let me know whatcha think!
Soulmates had been around for nearly as long as Asgard itself. They were a blessing, bestowed upon the people by the goddess Frigga.
Asgard was not always a kind place. Even in times of peace, the people knew only a warrior's culture. The armory and the colosseum were sacred space; they saw their equal only in the crypts or Yggdrasil. Daughters were prided for nothing but their ability to breed strong warriors. Sons were trained to fight from the day they learned to walk. Every man worth his keep knew how to wield a sword and carried one at all times, even around the city, and being placed amongst the palace guard was the highest honor that Asgard could offer. Men were judged on strength and physical prowess rather than their hearts or minds. Even royalty, even the gods of the palace, were affected. They were firm in their anger and quick to wrath. The Nine Realms were ruled by Asgard, but they were ruled only through fear.
Frigga wanted none of it. Odin's benevolent wife sought to make Asgard a better place for all, rich and poor, royal and peasant. She was tired of watching the elite order the lesser to go die for an unworthy cause. She was tired of watching wealthy captains ride back into Asgard claiming victory when every poor soldier under their command had fallen to the sword. She was tired of seeing Asgardians with eternity laid out before them with no purpose to their time except bloodshed.
She wanted women to be valued for all they had to offer, not just the men they could create. She wanted men to think before they spoke, listen before they acted. She wanted the people to find their own worth, carve their own path, make their own way; she wanted wisdom and love to be as important as courage and power. She wanted peace, a true peace, not one made tense by the threat of a sword at the neck of the other realms; and she knew only one way she could help see her dream come to reality.
As the wife of the king, she had always laid claim to the territories of marriage and fertility, the ideal wife and mother for her family and for all of Asgard.
"Love," Frigga used to say, "is easy. Marriage is far more difficult." Love was a deep emotion but one she maintained almost any combination of two people could feel for one another given the right timing, experience, and circumstance. Marriage was something infinitely more complex, harder to achieve, and almost impossible to perfect.
Every Asgardian eventually underwent the ceremony of marriage, if for nothing more than appearances and the hope of gaining the queen's favor. However, it never ended well. Marriages were made not by matching two people who shared a love capable of withstanding the tests of time but by matching two beings in a mutually beneficial class standing.
If Asgardians shared the lifespan of Midgard the results would not have been worthy of note; marital bliss in Asgard, even in the most unhappy of pairings, often lasted a century or two, enough to last a lifetime in the realm of mortal men. Instead, those Asgardians who did not go to war, or at least those who survived the war, lived to be well past ten thousand years before death would claim them naturally: one lifetime of bliss followed by ninety-nine of pain and anger. By their fifth century, marriage was just a formality of title for most: something acknowledged for propriety at the palace but rarely upheld in the streets, much less in the bed.
Tolerating their own existence for ten thousand years was hard enough for most of Asgard; finding someone else to tolerate for so long was improbable. Finding someone else to love for that length of time? And love enough to marry? Impossible. It wasn't a once in a lifetime occurrence. It was once in existence, and Frigga had been the once.
She had seen Odin coming for her a century away. She was the goddess of marriage; even the king of Asgard would not persuade her into one she thought either of them would eventually foresake. She saw who he was and sought to find out who he would become. By the time he arrived, she knew he was the one for her.
Frigga intended to use her gifts of magic and foresight to perfect her domain, to help others experience what she had found. With foresight, she saw her realm and all its citizens that had been and would be, and with magic she bound each to their perfect mate. Every Asgardian would eventually find their match; Frigga would see to that. Some found theirs in the houses of their greatest enemies; some found them outside the Nine Realms; some would not find them for centuries to come. Eventually, however, every house in Asgard would be filled with a love so deep it touched the soul.
The princes were a special case. Odin had asked for some say in the matter of their futures, and Frigga had politely refused. Odin wanted his sons to find the love he shared with Frigga, but what Odin needed was vastly different.
Odin would never willingly accept the best love match if it meant compromising nobility. If Thor's one true love was a farmer's daughter from the rolling hills outside the capital, Odin would stand in the way and force another match as good enough, to some general's daughter Thor could tolerate for the rest of existence. If Loki found his solace with a woman from Midgard, Odin would sooner break the magic binding the pair or disown his own son than bring a mortal to the palace as a princess. He wanted peace and happiness, but he demanded respect and status more.
Frigga understood the severity of the situation. Love was her priority for her sons, but there was much to consider even beyond that.
Choosing a mate for Thor meant electing Asgard's future queen. Thor's mate would rule Asgard at his side for millennia to come. Peace in Asgard and peace in the Nine Realms could be achieved with the touch of her hand or wiped out with a turn of her head. It would be her task to carry on Frigga's work when Frigga's time came. It would be this woman's responsibility, and her responsibility alone, to bring soulmates to the generations that would come after Frigga's end. She would bare Thor an heir and choose that heir's mate, solely answerable for the next generation, as the successor she chose would be after her and the next after that.
Yet, somehow, Frigga was infinitely more worried about finding a mate for her second son.
Choosing a mate for Loki meant deciding fate itself. The Nine Realms would rely on her decision of Thor's mate, but reality depended on Loki's. With Loki, went everything. If Frigga chose right, it could mean eternal bliss. If she chose wrong, it could mean the end of Asgard, the end of life, the end of days. Ragnarok.
It was fitting, truly, that Loki was the pivot from which the pendulum of existence swung. His was a life of contradictions and extremes. The God of Mischief who valued nothing if not justice. The Lie-Smith who could trick anyone undetected but had been deceived since birth. The creator of Asgard's greatest treasures, punished for their very existence. The second son who was born to be a king. A son of Asgard and a son of Asgard's greatest enemy.
Frigga had watched the future of her son closely. She had foreseen the pendulum swinging both ways. In one future, she had seen his happiness, with a love and family, seen him reach heights of greatness Thor could never hope to achieve. Loki would be truly magnificent. All of the Nine Realms would shower him in praises, and he would only ever listen to those of his love. She was his everything, and he brought peace, happiness, and justice to all in her name.
In another future, she watched as he lived a life alone. Surrounded by those he loved that did not love him in return. Completely solitary in his existence. Years passed of being misunderstood, and he could not trust or rely on anyone. He was mocked and ridiculed by his own brother. He was imprisoned and beaten by the All-Father. His accomplishments were thrown in his face like insults. He was pushed to extremes that no other man could ever bare and then was belittled for finally acting on them long after anyone else would have broken. Loki grew to hate Asgard, and rightfully so. A lack of understanding, a lack of love for one man, was all it took to tear life itself apart.
Loki and Asgard were both capable of causing great joy and great pain to one another. Only one woman in history would stand a chance of determining the fate of both. Even then, Frigga was still unsure she would be enough. There were so many ways it could go wrong, and only one way it went right. Still, Asgard be damned; she was Frigga's only chance at giving her son happiness.
Sigyn was born on the final day of the Final War, the day that ended all war in Asgard, the day Laufey and Odin signed their peace treaty, the day Odin brought Loki home to Asgard, the day that launched a millennia of peace. It was how her parents came by the name. It was an old name from the days before Asgard, during the reign of Buri, Odin's grandfather. It meant "Friend of Victory", a unique name. Despite Odin's many victories, and the many victories of his father Borr, none had bore the name since it was first given so long ago. There had been too many battles to count, too many wars to name. Asgard had won them all, but one came so quickly after another that there was never time for celebration, never time to acknowledge the victory. This, Frigga hoped, the peace with Jotunheim, would mark the end. Sigyn's birth would mark the final victory, in more ways than one.
Sigyn was the first child born of a pair of soulmates. Her parents were the only pair in existence to find each other without Frigga's help. Neighbors who had known each other since birth, they fell in love gradually over centuries, an easy kind of love that would become common place after Frigga's intervention but was unheard of before. They had been together for almost a century before Frigga confirmed for them that they were in fact each other's perfect match, not that either really needed the confirmation; they both knew. Their love was deep and boundless. It had no stipulations and saw no hesitations, and their daughter's was the same.
On the day each Asgardian came of age, it was tradition to come to the palace and meet the king and queen, so that the king could attest to the domain of the one who stood before him. If they were a peasant, he would name them as heir to their family's lands or to some appropriate position in society: member of the Asgardian army or healer of an outpost. If they were nobility, he would name them a god. He would look on them and their works and declare before the Nine Realms that some portion of his dominion, appropriate to their rank and behavior, was to be overseen by the man or woman before him.
Then, Frigga would step down to provide her blessing for their future. She would lean in and whisper a name. Odin's proclamations were for all of the Nine Realms to hear; Frigga's were for only their ears.
Sigyn knew what to expect, and she knew this was not it.
When she stepped through the doors, Sigyn was astounded to see the throne room completely full of Asgard's highest ranking citizens. Coming of age ceremonies were often spectated affairs. Family were required to attend to witness what holdings of their family name would belong to each member as they came of age. Friends often came to serve as the witnesses and to provide support. Occasionally, a few elderly Asgardians would treat the ceremony as a spectators affair and would come to the palace to watch simply for lack of anything better to do. Rarely was there more than a small crowd around the dais, and on those occasions it was only for the coming of age of Asgard's highest nobility.
The last great ceremony had been the Vanir goddess Freya's coming of age two decades ago, and none in the audience or in the Nine Realms were surprised to hear she had been declared the goddess of love and beauty. All of the young men of Asgard, the men who were too young to know the names of their own mates yet, had gathered in the hall, crowding in until Odin had to send some away to make room for Freya's brother to join the gathering throng. All hoped that Frigga would whisper their name to the stunning goddess, and her eyes would turn to seek them out in the hall. No such thing had happened, of course, Frigga had leaned in to whisper to Freya for several moments, and Freya had eventually left the ceremony with a look of sad but ferocious determination.
Sigyn was nobility but of the lowest kind, far lower than Freya, who watched her from the throngs with a cool, calculating gaze. Sigyn knew to expect her parents and younger siblings, and she had been correct in hoping that her dearest friends, Idunna and Semya, would make time to attend. Twelve at the most, that had been the group she thought was waiting for her. This group, now, who had come to watch Sigyn was greater in size and scope than the ceremony of all but the two sons of Odin themselves. It scared her. She did not know what they were waiting for.
Odin sat forward on the edge of his throne, clutching his speer firmly in his right hand as if preparing for attack rather than a simple speech. His expression was stern, cold. The King wasn't one known to smile, but his face seemed particularly void of feeling on this day.
Sigyn had expected no more from him, but she still felt the need to avert her eyes to the queen. Frigga's ever-present, comforting smile was all that kept Sigyn's feet moving across the marble floors. She truly was the mother of Asgard. Stood just over Odin's right shoulder, her wordless encouragement pulled Sigyn from where she stood frozen in the doorway. Nobles pushed in on either side as she walked up the thin aisle that had been left for her approach. It felt like the longest walk of her life.
On either side of the throne stood the princes, decked in armor and ready for war just as their father was. Thor stood at Odin's right hand, guarding his blinded side, ever the younger copy of the aging king. His red cloak billowed out behind him as his winged helmet gleamed in the early morning sun. With Mjolnir in hand, the Crown Prince of Asgard cut what should have been an intimidating figure, but one that struck Sigyn as simply arrogant.
Loki, on the King's other side, was renowned for his arrogance, yet Sigyn found him rather intimidating. An odd reversal of roles for the princes, but one Sigyn was sure happened only in her mind. The golden mage had long been thought the lesser of the two brothers for his slimmer build and affinity for magic. Sigyn had been at his coming of age when Loki was named the God of Magic, and she had long heard the whispered, "more like the God of Mischief", "Odin names his son the God of Lies." Like the rest of Asgard, she knew nothing of the talents Loki so richly employed, but her inexperience had led her to view the prince with greater caution rather than simple condescension.
Sigyn avoided meeting either princes gaze as she knelt before the All-Father. The eyes of all of Asgard were on her, and she still did not know why.
"Lady Sigyn," The King's voice boomed across the silence of the room. "You have come before the Nine Realms to be received for the first time as a woman grown, to be judged for your place in Asgard, and to be rewarded for your service of past, present, and future."
"Yes, My King," The response was automatic. Everything else was different, but the words Odin spoke were the exact same as her friend, Semya's, coming of age ceremony just five years before. At least this part, she knew what was expected of her.
"Your first century of life has proven you a good and faithful servant of your people." Odin had declared this sentiment to every Asgardian who had come before him where Sigyn now stood, and she wondered if any Asgardian would already be found lacking by this age. "You stand before me today, a good and faithful servant of your people." Perhaps not showing up for the coming of age ceremony would be considered lacking in good faith.
Then, the King departed script, and Sigyn's eyes jerked up from the floor to her king. At Semya's, and every other, coming of age ceremony she had attended, the All-Father would continue with, "And in your years to come you will continue a good and faithful servant of your people. For that, I grant you," and then he would name them to their place.
Instead, the king continued. "And in your years to come, you will prove, before all the Nine Realms, to truly be your people's greatest and most faithful servant." A murmur rippled through the hall, though it didn't last long as Odin continued to speak. "For that, I grant you domain over what I hold most precious. Loyalty. From the simple loyalty between friends to the greatest loyalty of a king to his realm, all will be held responsible to you, even me." Odin raised his spear and bounded the base to the ground. A rush of wind blew over the waiting crowd, and it was done, never to be undone. The loyalty of Asgard belonged to Sigyn, and with his added words, "even me", even Odin himself could not take it away.
A wave of sound started from the back of the crowd and worked its way forward; cheers, Sigyn believed. Sigyn didn't dare to stand before it or turn to face it. She stayed unmoved by the declaration and unmoved by the noise. Surely, some of it was shock as she watched the king set aside his spear and lean back in his chair. A greater part of it was fear. She was afraid to move.
Nothing about this day had gone as planned. Sigyn had been content that morning in the knowledge that she would probably be named goddess of some oddly particular thing or emotion or place. She had secretly hoped it would be something fun, something that would give her some excuse to enjoy herself. She had long since taken over for her mother in raising her younger siblings, and she was ready and willing to continue with that or some other more stoic responsibility, but she still had longed for something that would bring her a breath of fresh air, some small sense of levity. Instead, All of Asgard had watched as she had been given power that reached over even the All-Father himself. All of Asgard had watched as she was declared the Realm's greatest servant. Not exactly the levity she had hoped for.
Her fear kept her frozen where she had heard the news. Frigga, All-Mother, was expected to step down from the dais, to hold out a hand for her and help her to her feet, symbolizing forever the motherly role she played for all Asgardians. Once they were both on their feet, she was supposed to whisper a name in Sigyn's ear and escort her from the hall where she could be on her way.
Instead, Frigga waited a moment behind her husband. When her eyes met Sigyn's, she gave the same reassuring smile as early. Sigyn assumed that meant she was right to remain kneeling, but she was honestly in too much shock to infer anything clearly about her situation.
The cheers were almost deafening, and Sigyn was completely unsure as to why. Asgard had all just watched their King, the All-Father, Ruler of the Nine Realms, make himself even in some small part subservient to a young girl, barely of age, and far beneath him in stature and standing. They were cheering the humbling of their king, the subjugation of their loyalty to a new, weak, Goddess of Asgard.
It was several long moments before the cheers began to die down, and once they began, Frigga stepped out from behind her husband, silencing them in an instant. She walked down the short steps to stand above Sigyn and held out her hand.
Sigyn took it and stood on instinct more than response to her situation. She wasn't even surprised when Frigga too, departed from what was expected.
"We gather you all here today," Frigga's voice did not boom out like Odin's. It was soft and gentle. Its power came, not from volume, but from its ability to quiet everyone so instantly that her every word was heard just as well as her husband's, "not to witness the age of this great servant of Asgard. But rather, to meet your future princess."
Frigga touched a kind hand to Sigyn's cheek and brought her eyes up to look into them. Frigga didn't whisper the name to Sigyn as she did to everyone else, but even though all of Asgard heard, the words were still only for ears. "If it please you, my dear, I would join you in meeting my son, Prince Loki."