Summary: Five months before Loki's trial, Sigyn, a young academic, receives a request from Frigga to assess her son's mental health. She agrees, but when Amora gets involved with a plot to help Loki escape, Sigyn develops some serious doubts about her future – and about Loki's.
Author's Note: So, I started this fic waaaaaay back before The Dark World came out, wrote most of it, and then never finished. Recently I opened it back up just to see how it was and realised there wasn't actually that much left to write. I've filled in the blanks and added some superficial details from TDW (like what the dungeons look like), but it's only consistent with the films up to and including The Avengers. There are quite a few original characters (or semi-original ones – who appear in the comics but not the films) and an Asgard fleshed out with details from my imagination, so if that's your thing I hope you enjoy this!
The fic is completely finished, so I will be updating with a chapter a week – unless I forget. If I do, I'm really sorry. But the chapters do exist and you can expect twelve of them.
Warnings: I don't actually think there is anything in this fic that needs a warning. There is some drunkenness and non-explicit sex later on, but nothing much. Please let me know if you see anything reading this fic that you think should have a warning, or if you think the rating should be changed later on. I think you'll be all right though.
-xxx-
Honourable Lady Sigyn,
You may have heard rumours in recent weeks concerning my sons and their return from Midgard. The few I have heard are inaccurate and cruel, but I do not doubt that more have been in circulation. I hope you will set aside any prejudgements you may have while reading this letter.
I have written to you to request your professional assistance in a matter of great personal importance. You are, I presume, aware that Thor travelled to Midgard with the purpose of retrieving his brother, who had been believed dead since the destruction of the bifrost. Loki has committed acts on Midgard that cannot go unpunished, and it is concerning this that I am anxious.
It is clear to me upon observing Loki's violent and erratic behaviour that his mind has become wildly unstable. I believe him to be suffering from a severe mental affliction – a belief also held by those who encountered him on Midgard. Loki is currently being held in the dungeons below the palace and it is Odin's intention to leave him there indefinitely, but I fear such a sentence will only worsen his mental state. I am working to convince the Allfather to hold a full trial for Loki, in the hope that his illness will be acknowledged and a more appropriate punishment devised.
It is in this that I request your assistance: at the very least, he needs a competent academic to confirm that his actions are the result of a sickness, not of inherent evil, and that there is hope for his recovery if sufficient mercy be shown. You, as Asgard's foremost expert in illnesses of the mind, may be the only inhabitant of this realm qualified to help me. Were you able to prove Loki's madness remediable, the House of Odin would be eternally grateful, and would ensure that you were suitably repaid for your services.
That is all I require, but my fondest hope, although I concede that it would be a difficult venture, is that my son will be cured of his ailment and become the man he once was. For this reason, I would like to personally request that you take Loki on as a patient and assist him on his way to recovery. I have heard about your great successes in the past, and believe you may be invaluable to him in the coming years.
I understand if you would prefer to decline this latter request, and will not take offense if that is what you decide. I urge you, however, not to decline the former. I fear that without sufficient defence, Loki will be dealt too harsh a punishment and all chances of his return to good health will be permanently crushed.
I eagerly anticipate your response,
Frigga Fjörgynnsdottir
-xxx-
The letter had arrived early that morning courtesy of a loud and impatient raven. Sigyn had been in the middle of dressing and was startled into knocking over a pile of books as it rapped its humungous beak against her window. She pulled on a dress before letting it in, and when the raven had flown in and perched itself impertinently on the end of her bed, a neighbour leaned out of a nearby window.
"Keep the noise down, girl! That infernal bird woke me up!"
"It's not my bird," she called in response, and the neighbour retreated back inside his house with a huff of irritation.
The raven stuck out its foot and dropped a piece of rolled up parchment onto the floor. It tilted its head as though sizing her up, and looked distinctly unimpressed before it spread its absurd wings and flew back out of the room.
Sigyn grabbed the parchment and was about to drop it onto the other papers piled up on her desk when the seal caught her eye. It was glittering gold in colour and portrayed the elegant profile of a cat – Queen Frigga's seal.
She hesitated before breaking the seal and sitting down to read.
Now she stood in her office, having arrived at the Academy a full hour late, sipping a hot beverage. Hrefna, her closest colleague, was looking over the letter.
Sigyn ventured to the window while Hrefna read and gazed over the gardens. The building was tall – the Academy was comprised of three gleaming pillars in the centre of the city, connected by walkways and floating shards where certain laboratories could be free from gravity – but her office was near the ground. The view was not spectacular, and she couldn't gaze out over the glittering city like academics with more prestigious offices could, but at least she had a window.
Hrefna slammed the letter down onto the desk and Sigyn turned back to the pale stone room.
"Frigga Fjörgynnsdottir. She signed it Frigga Fjörgynnsdottir. Not 'Allmother', not 'Her Majesty Queen of Asgard'. Frigga Frörgynnsdottir. I didn't even know what her patronymic was."
"Somewhat missing the point, Hrefna," Sigyn said.
Hrefna picked the letter up again, pouring over it excitedly.
"Sigyn, this is incredible. 'Asgard's foremost expert in illnesses of the mind' – she means you!"
Sigyn smiled weakly as Hrefna hurried over and embraced her. "Yes, well. I don't exactly have a lot of competition."
There was a reason her office was on a lower floor. Asgard's warrior culture permeated even its academic halls, and warriors didn't have much time for psychological wellbeing.
Hrefna ignored her. "When do you start? Have you sent a reply?"
"No, I – I'm not certain if I want to."
Hrefna gaped.
Sigyn shuffled past her, strode to the desk and sat down, lifting a stack of papers to clear the chair and, after seeing no space on the desk, dumping them onto the floor beside her.
"It is not a decision easily made," she said, pretending to organise her notes. "And besides, she has misunderstood my work. She has asked me to take him on as a patient. I am not a healer. I'm not certain I could fulfil her request."
Hrefna was not about to allow Sigyn to hide behind a desk. She moved to stand directly opposite her, placing her hands on the desk and sliding the parchment across to her friend.
"It is a royal summons. You cannot refuse it."
"It is not a summons!" Sigyn's voice was laced with irritation. "If I had known how overexcited you would get I would not have shown you."
"But Sigyn," Hrefna responded, not changing her position. "You cannot toss this aside. It is more than a request; it is a declaration of support. If you accept, you affiliate yourself with the House of Odin. Think how that would assist your work! If I got a letter from the queen requesting help I wouldn't hesitate."
Sigyn stood. "I know that. And it wouldn't be the same for you – what would she ask you to do? You'd only have to translate something. Quite a bit less personal risk, don't you think?"
"I cannot believe you are throwing such an opportunity away."
"I didn't say I would refuse, I said I was not certain."
"Why are you not certain?"
"Because," Sigyn said, and realised that she could produce no real grounds for her uncertainty. Yes, there was a good chance she would fail, and yes, she might be risking her safety, but she had requested access to the dungeons in the past with no success, and now she had been given it freely. She had longed for the chance to examine severely disturbed minds. If she were able to gather enough data she could write a book on the topic.
"See?" Hrefna interrupted her thoughts. "You cannot give a reason. I think you are afraid."
Afraid. Perhaps she was.
After a while, Hrefna returned to her own office to resume her ancient Álfar translations, leaving Sigyn alone with her thoughts. The letter from Queen Frigga sat in the corner of her desk, face down, all day. She could see it in the corner of her eye, the broken royal seal glaring at her with indignation at being ignored.
It wasn't until she returned home, pushing and shoving her way through the tavern to reach the steps that led up to her small quarters on the floor above, that she reread the letter.
And read it again.
She was being irrational. There was no reason why she should not accept the work. The feeling in her stomach that halted her reply – could that really just be fear? Fear of failure or of success? She had been searching for an opportunity like this for so long, and now that it was here, was she really going to refuse it?
She picked up an empty sheet of paper and searched the room for a quill. When she returned to her desk, she did not hesitate. She wrote.
As Sigyn composed her reply with the sound of laughter and drunken merriment drifting up from the floor below, she suspected that this could be a turning point in her career . This letter would cement her fate. What she certainly did not suspect, though, was the nature of the fate she was securing herself. She was standing blindfolded on the edge of a treacherous precipice. The wind was urging her forward, and the sweet scent of the sea raging against the rocks below enticed her uncertain feet to make that simple step over the edge. Blindfolded as she was, she couldn't see that the part of her that sensed the drop was right. Perhaps the Norns had planned this for her, and, despite her earlier indecision, there was never really any chance for her to refuse Frigga's request. Perhaps the plummet into that unknowable sea had always been her destiny.
When the tip of her quill touched the paper, Sigyn's feet slipped from the cliff's edge and she had no hope now of halting her descent.
-xxx-
"How dare you go behind my back! I am the king and I will decide the fate of my prisoners."
"And I am a mother, doing what is best for her child!"
Word of Frigga's letter had spread fast – how, she wasn't sure, but Odin had always been bound to find out before her plan was put into action, and she was ready for him.
"A mother does not outrank a king."
"You are not just a king, but a father too!"
Frigga had been reading in her private rooms, enjoying a quiet afternoon with her handmaidens, when Odin stormed through the door in a rage, a copy of the letter in his hand. The handmaidens had scattered, bolting from the room upon his furious command, and Frigga had placed a marker in her book and stood up to face him. Though she had been preparing for this very argument for days, once it began she found it difficult to keep her own temper in check.
"Do you think I am unaware? Or do you think me heartless?"
"Heartless? You would have had him killed if I hadn't intervened! Of course you are heartless!"
"I–" He faltered, and some of the rage seeped away. "You know I would have retracted that order before it was carried out."
She did. But that was not the point.
"There needs to be a trial – a fair trial – before you let your fury override your sense."
He shook his head, starting to pace. "We cannot be seen to offer him dispensation just because–"
"A trial is not dispensation, it is standard practice." Frigga stood her ground, unwilling to be shrugged off.
"You may have your trial," he said, waving a dismissive hand. "That is not the issue. The issue is that we have never tried to claim violent madness an affliction, and now that our son is facing punishment we cannot suddenly decide that it is and lighten his sentence. The people will not stand for it!" He stopped pacing on this last sentence, turning to face her.
She went to a nearby table and picked up a small book. "We were wrong in the past," she said. "We have known Loki all his life, and though he has never been perfect, he did not seem capable of what he has now done. How do you explain that? Were we blind for all these centuries?" She handed Odin the book.
"What is this?"
"This is one of the studies that prompted my letter. Our healing techniques are advanced, but we have been neglecting an important field. I am not trying to excuse our son's crimes, but to find a way he could return to us."
Odin did not open the book, even to scan its page of contents. "Frigga, this is wishful thinking. You are putting an innocent in danger and wasting her time."
"She will be protected at all times, and no study is ever wasted."
"The point remains that you did this without my permission." Odin tossed the book onto one of Frigga's chairs. "I cannot have you giving him preferential treatment without consulting me. It will be misconstrued by the public."
"Let them misconstrue. He is my son and I will help him however I can. Any mother would."
Odin looked at her in silence for a long time.
"You may no longer enter the dungeons. No more gifts or furniture. If you wish to speak with him, you may do it as a projection. There will be fewer rumours."
Even after all this time, Frigga bristled when her husband gave her orders. He was the king, however, and she knew he had the realm's best interests at heart. As long as he had not cut her off from her son entirely, she could respect his instruction.
She nodded, and Odin left. The book she had handed him sat unread on a chair, but he had taken the discovery of her actions better than she had hoped, and he had promised Loki a trial. She would consider today's argument more success than failure.
Before she could settle back down in her seat and call for her handmaidens, there was a familiar knocking at her door. She supposed now she would find out how Thor had taken the discovery, too.
-xxx-
Two weeks later, Frigga and Thor waited in one of the palace's smaller and less impressive reception halls. She and Sigyn had exchanged several letters since her initial response, and had met in a conference room at the Academy. She had been impressed by her confidence and assertiveness, even in the presence of a queen, and felt more sure of her decision every day.
They had discussed many things about Loki: his nature, his past, his madness – she answered any questions the academic had and promised to continue answering questions as they arose. She had seemed particularly interested in the circumstances surrounding Loki's fall from the bifrost and, to her credit, had managed not to appear too disturbed by a true account of the events – less disturbed than Frigga herself felt upon repeating it, at any rate.
There was still so much that she did not know, but that could come later. For now she merely needed to diagnose Loki – preferably soon. Although she knew that preparation was important, she was tired of the delay and needed to push things along. Today would be Sigyn's first day in the dungeons.
"Mother, are you certain of this?" Thor's voice drew her out of her thoughts and back to the present. His features were twisted with concern.
She smiled gently. "I am certain."
"What do you hope to achieve?" Though her smile had never failed to placate him in the past, it failed now. "You have saved him from execution – let that be enough."
"You must have hope, Thor. Your brother will recover."
"You didn't see him on Midgard as I did, Mother. If you had you would not be so gentle with him. He will do nothing but terrorise this woman."
Frigga understood her son's concern, but what she had seen of Sigyn so far gave her hope. Perhaps Thor would agree with her after today. "She is very well qualified. She has published several texts on the abnormal psyche and has assisted Eir in healing a number of difficult cases that would previously have been considered hopeless. Her seniors at the Academy recommend her highly and after my personal interactions with her, I feel that she will do well with the task I have given her."
Thor gave a doubtful grunt and was about to reply when they were interrupted by the opening of golden doors. A pair of guards stepped through and bowed.
"Your Majesty. Your Highness," one of them said. "Sigyn Osvaldrsdóttir."
Before the guards had finished announcing her arrival, Sigyn had entered the hall, gazing around in wonder, her eyes tracing the murals of ancient battles on the walls, sweeping across the arched ceiling, and eventually falling on Frigga and Thor. It was almost as though she had never seen such a room. Then again, she was Vanir; since she hadn't grown up in Asgard, it was perfectly possible that she had never been inside the palace.
"Your Majesty," she said, giving a bow. "Your Highness." Nervous but composed – promising.
"Lady Sigyn," Frigga approached her and folded her into a hug. "You cannot fathom my gratefulness for your presence here today. I am in your debt."
"Honestly, you should not feel in any way obliged. Your request is a noble one, and I am glad to be of assistance." Sigyn smiled at Frigga, but her eyes drifted to Thor, who was looking at her with no attempt to mask his apprehension.
"Lady Sigyn," he said as his manners kicked in. "It is a pleasure to meet you. Mother had told me much about you."
He bent to kiss her hand and Frigga watched as a faint blush crept into her cheeks.
"So how is this to be done?" Sigyn asked as Thor stepped away.
"Thor will take you to the dungeons," Frigga answered. "I have been forbidden to enter, but I will send a projection now to speak with Loki. He will be prepared for your arrival. Are you ready?"
Sigyn did her best to be stoic, but Frigga didn't miss her fingers tightening on the notebook she held. "I am."
"Then you must go. Good luck."
-xxx-
Curiosity glittered in Sigyn's features as Thor led her down to the prison. He wondered what she was thinking. Was she excited? Afraid? He could not read her face, and that concerned him. What would Loki make of her? He had been worrying over that from the moment his mother had explained her plan to him, but he worried even more now that he had met the woman whose help she had sought – if woman was the right word. She was little older than a girl, not exceptionally pretty, but possessed of the softness and vitality of youth and wide brown eyes that spoke volumes of innocence. He doubted the wisdom of leaving someone so young alone in Loki's company. As intelligent as she may be, Loki would not leave any vulnerability unexploited. Would she be able to hold her ground? He had rarely questioned his Mother's judgement, but he did now. He didn't know if he could bear to be part of leading this girl into danger.
The dungeons were far beneath the palace, lower even than the vaults and tunnels, and it took time to reach them. No light reached this low, and there was no particular need for brightness, so many corridors and staircases were lit with nothing more than enchanted torches and lamps. All the while, Sigyn's eyes drank in the unfamiliar sights, her uneasiness seeming to seep away as curiosity overwhelmed her nerves. Neither of them spoke.
Thor stopped when they reached a large metal door flanked by two guards and he paused, watching Sigyn as a flicker of apprehension returned to her eyes.
"Lady Sigyn," he said, turning to face her. Her eyes darted to the closed door before meeting his. "This door does not lead into the cell. We still have a short way to walk, but there are some things I must explain to you first."
She nodded, and her gaze urged him to hurry up.
"You know why my Mother has requested your presence here, and she is certain of your abilities. It is not my place to question her, but I could not allow you into this dungeon in good conscience without a warning. You must be cautious around my brother. Be ever vigilant, and never allow your guard to fall. He has committed unforgivable crimes, and has lost his regard for all life – including his own."
Sigyn seemed taken aback by his words, but she did not interrupt. He wondered if his mother had said anything like this to her, and was glad he had chosen to speak.
"He will not hesitate to manipulate or attack you," he continued. "Loki has always been clever, and his madness has made that attribute dangerous. You must never take his words as they come – always consider them carefully."
A slight frown creased Sigyn's forehead and she appeared to contemplate his words. He hoped she would take them to heart.
"You need not be concerned, your highness," Sigyn eventually replied, seeming to choose her words carefully. "I am a professional, and you have my assurances that I will use the utmost caution in dealing with your brother."
Thor pulled his lips tight. "I am certain you will, Lady Sigyn, but that does not ease my heart."
"I understand," she said earnestly. "You are concerned that I am not up to this task. You may be right, but I will do my best to prove you wrong."
"I do not question your abilities, my Lady. I question my brother's receptiveness."
"Your mother believes there is a chance for him. Perhaps he will prove you wrong as well."
"I sincerely hope he does."
Turning to the door, he motioned to the guards. They opened the doors.
"You must proceed alone, Lady Sigyn," Thor said. "I have no wish to see my brother, and he will be more inclined to accept your presence if I am absent."
Sigyn faced the open door, steeling her expression.
-xxx-
Frigga's projection stood in the centre of Loki's cell. Making no move to stand up from sitting on his bed, he glowered at her.
"She is on her way here now," Frigga said. "There is nothing you can say to convince me to change my mind."
"There is plenty I can say to make her change her mind."
"Loki," she warned, "you are not to abuse her, do you understand me?"
He stood now, his hands balled into fists. "I am not a child, Mother. You do not give me orders."
She raised her voice a shade to compete with his. "It's not an order, Loki, it's an appeal to your manners. She is here at my request and she will be treated with respect."
"She can have my respect when she earns it."
He had not submitted, but his tone had softened and he began to walk around the cell – a method she had noticed him using in the past to calm himself down. Frigga took the opportunity to continue.
"I have met with Sigyn a number of times now. I believe you will enjoy her company if you give her a fair chance."
"And what good would it do if I did?"
"You know very well."
She watched him as he continued pacing. Eventually he came to a stop, looking at her.
"You really think she will influence Odin's decision? I have never thought you foolish, but this?"
She looked into her son's eyes. She didn't understand why she was the only one to recognise the old Loki in this new shell.
"I realise this approach is unorthodox, but please, Loki, give it a chance. For me."
He didn't respond. That was good – or, at least, it was better than another refusal. She doubted he would be courteous to Sigyn, but perhaps after this talk he would at least be something approaching civil.
-xxx-
The dungeons were disconcertingly lit. Inside the cells the light was harsh and filled every corner evenly, but in the corridor that cut through them there was no light save what emanated from the cells, and not much spilled out. It was cold, too, and suffocating. The silence and stillness were so thick that Sigyn thought she might choke on it, and she wondered how anyone survived here. Privacy, too, was forgotten. In each cell, three of the four walls were composed of light and glass, thick with enchantment but completely transparent. Guards stood at intervals around the dungeon, gazing steadily into the cells, watching the occupants. The fourth wall was white and featureless, and the cells contained no furniture, no entertainment, and no comfort.
The majority of the cells were empty, and had been for some time. She peered curiously into the first occupied cell she saw. A man sat against the far wall, staring blankly. He didn't seem to notice her at all, but she realised that she recognised him. Ofieg Kjallakson, a former councillor. He had been imprisoned a century ago for plotting treason.
The next occupied cell she came across contained another well-known figure. Rannvieg Onämsdóttir, the Cannibal of Álfheim; a female elf infamous in Asgard for the bout of grisly murders she had committed two centuries ago. Her eerie yellow gaze followed Sigyn as she walked past, and the young woman shuddered before looking away.
Two more cells contained men she did not know, one of whom scowled and hissed "Vanir bitch!" as she passed. A fifth cell was home to a red haired woman with what seemed to be a gilded cage fixed to the bottom half of her head. Sigyn looked at her with open curiosity and was met with a blistering glare.
She was nearing the end of the corridor now, and fear fought with curiosity for her attention. In a sixth cell, a small man mumbled to himself and rubbed his hands together, totally unaware of her presence. Through the transparent far side of his cell, Sigyn caught
a glimpse of furniture, of a table piled with books, a bowl of fruit and a bed. Her heart flipped with anxiety as she continued, comforted only mildly by the presence of guards.
As she walked, the cell came completely into view. A man stood with his back to her. She stopped in front of the cell. It had to be this one. There were no more and he hadn't been in any of the others. Besides, why would he have furniture if he weren't a prince?
She had barely been stood there for two seconds when the man turned to face her.
-xxx-
Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Please come back next week for chapter two.